nicholasjessiespring

[a-pirate]

Some ancient (2021) pics of Ven I just rediscovered and still love. I was learning how to take advantage of photo mode's look-at-camera.

[writersdrug]

I Don't Need You

Chapter 13. Each Other

Masterlist

Summary: Ridgeback was right: you and König make a good pair on the battlefield. Though, that doesn't mean the mission still can't go wrong.

Warnings: cursing, German that I'm too lazy to translate (nothing important), violence and blood, reader gets socked

As much as a leader should be, and as much as I hated to admit it, Ridgeback was right about everything he’d said: König and I made a decent team.

The morning after König’s temper tantrum, he was waiting outside of my door before breakfast. He mumbled something about “need to work together”, before turning on his heel and marching towards the mess hall. I stared after him, confused, but quickly grabbed my jacket when he barked at me to keep up with him. He was still grumpy, sure… but he wasn’t grumpy with me. Ridgeback must have given him an earful.

For the rest of the day, it was impossible to shake him. He ran training courses with me as we both got a feel for how the other worked. I figured out that König was truly a tank, in every sense of the word. Any poor “enemy” corporal that stood in his way was either launched to the side or pelted with a minimum of five rubber bullets to the head. And this was just a practice course; I couldn’t imagine what he would look like on the field. I was happy to be his six, his shadow that cleaned up the mess behind him. I made sure any stragglers were swiftly taken out, and that no one could sink a bullet into his back as he maneuvered through the course.

It was flawless. It made Ridgeback smirk as the two of us made our way back to the start of the run. His eyes held a thousand I told you so’s that made König scoff and my eyes roll. Still, it was obvious that we worked well together.

After that, I had a brief period of solitude when I retreated into the shower. As soon as I emerged from my barracks, König was there – leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He followed to the mess, where we ate in silence. In the common area I pulled out a checkers bord and challenged him to a game; König obliged, opting to put his phone down and entertain my request. It was only a few, shameful minutes before he had me beat; He chuckled as I pouted and flipped on the TV, letting some foreign movie drone on and pretending I was invested.

It wasn’t humiliating to have him connected to my hip, nor was it suffocating. It felt good to know I had molded so well to someone in the team; that I could see how useful I was. But König was certainly… unexpectedly clingy. “Forcing himself” wasn’t the correct term, but it wasn’t hard to see that he was straining his limits. There was still something holding him back from accepting that we were a decent pair, even if it was just in combative circumstances. Part of me wanted to call him out on his behavior and tell him to stop being a child – then again, I didn’t want to start an argument. Not with the next mission right around the corner. So I let him be.

In addition to the dynamic between König and I, Ridgeback had been right about the mission: it was a downright bitch. Based in some tiny village on the edge of Narikala, Georgia, backed against a thick, snowy forest. The air was bitterly cold, nipping at my cheeks and seeping in through the fingertips of my gloves. I sat next to König on the heli, absentmindedly letting my knee rest against his thigh to savor any warmth I could get. He bounced his knee anxiously – in excitement or nervousness, I couldn’t tell.

Not five minutes after the heli had touched the ground did all hell break loose. König and I jumped out of our seats and were immediately met with a storm of bullets. Pedestrians had already started panicking when they heard the blades of the helicopter – now, they were screaming, running to take cover in the shabby, concrete structures that lined the streets. It was a miracle that we didn’t get separated then and there – well, not much of a miracle. König had grabbed me by my vest and yanked me to the side, out of the line of fire. He didn’t let me go until we had made it into one of the buildings, dropping me rather unceremoniously onto my feet.

From there, things only got worse – but we were able to manage it. Rose and Horangi weren’t far behind us as we cleared each room for them. It was nothing short of difficult: some of the enemy soldiers were able to land a decent jab to König’s side, despite being killed no less than three seconds later by a bullet to the neck.  He seemed… giddy, like a teenage boy playing some first-person-shooter game in an arcade. It was all game to him; throwing punches and firing his assault rifle, occasionally dropping a laugh and scampering off to find his next victim.

Covering his six was surprisingly a simpler task on the field than in training. König didn’t leave anything but dead bodies in his wake. I spent more time helping him with what was hitting him head on. He used his gun more often as a bludgeoner than an actual rifle, ramming it into the faces and stomachs of anything that crossed his path. I forced myself not to focus on it too much – the idea of him relishing in the massacre of others threatened to shake me from my objective, but I pushed past it and continued to follow him through the buildings.

The stench of iron was strong now; the sounds of gunfire and voices shouting in a foreign language echoed across the various concrete walls, but I was all too attuned to it by now. The two of us reached the building where the hostiles had set up their temporary base, covered by thick walls and satellite dishes on the roof. König took the upper ground, running up the stairs on the side of the building. I pulled up next to the lower entrance and cleared one side – almost instantly, a hostile soldier clocked me on the opposite side, right in my face with the butt of his rifle. My back hit the wall before I realized what was happening, but I didn’t hesitate to fire my gun from where I was propped up on the floor. My pulse thrummed loudly in my ears as I blinked a few times, pulling myself up to my feet with a grunt.

Roze and Horangi entered shortly after; Roze grimaced, placing her gloved hand on my helmet and turning my cheek towards her. “That’s gonna be a shiner. You ok?”

I sniffed and cleared my throat. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s right.” She replied proudly, tapping my helmet, before running off to one of the monitors. “Horangi! The drive.” She jerked her head in his direction.

He pulled a hard disc from his cargo pants pocket, tossing it across the room; Roze caught it effortlessly and jammed it into the towers of one of the monitors, plugging in a passcode cracker.

“They’re calling in backup.” He said, glancing through one of the windows. “Don’t even care who they’re aiming at, civilians or us.”

“Have you heard from Majka?” I asked, unable to hide the slight worry in my tone. “Exfil?”

“No. Comms are still down.” He said bluntly. Even he was nervous, missing the usual, cocky lilt in his tone. “Last I heard, Fender and O’Connor were still on the west side, clearing the exit. Castillo and Zero are setting up foxhole.”

I nodded. Everyone still seemed to be on track, at least – it was daunting not to have Majka in our ears, keeping us connected with who had what position. König was the only one with a ham radio directly to Majka – it was the only line we had to any sort of commanding voice.

“I’ll find König.” I said, tapping Horangi’s arm. “Castillo and Zero will have your backs on the way out. We’ll guard the entrance.”

He nodded, before swiftly crossing the room to stand next to Roze: still bend over the monitor and typing furiously on the keyboard. I turned on my heel and left through the way I came, clearing the room left and right, then running to the edge of the building where I had last seen König. The air was quiet with the lack of shouts, despite the abundance of guns firing. Would König make a sound if he was being attacked? Would he stay silent? How would I know if he was injured? What if he was already?

Suddenly, a massive figure rounded the corner. For a moment I raised my rifle, aiming at the soldier’s chest – until I realized it was König. Switching teams as often as I had made it a struggle to remember who to shoot and who not to shoot, but it was easy to recognize his lumbering form anywhere.  

He didn’t bother with the pleasantries. “Exfil isn’t coming.” He said, maneuvering his body to press flat against the side of the building. He tucked his ham radio back into his tactical vest.

“Huh?!” I snapped, following closely behind him. “The fuck do you mean?”

“You see this?!” he gestured to the chaos around us – it was fairly congested with enemy soldiers. Although we made good headway, we were outnumbered. “They won’t be able to get in here. Majka said we need to get out; he has evac on the way, but it’ll take time.”

I scowled, more at the situation than at König. I knew Roze and Horagni could handle themselves, and they were more than safe with Castillo and Zero on their backs. What got me was the retreat; I’d only ever retreated twice before (ironically, both times falling under Price’s command), and it only did more harm than good.

Before I could give it any more thought, König’s thick fingers were wrapped around my vest again, pulling me behind him. I steeled my nerves as we wound through the buildings, dodging bullet rain and civilians as they sought cover. König appeared to be running us towards the forest, taking us closer to the edge of the village.

“What about the others?” I shouted over the commotion, as he dragged us past the large, stone walls at the entrance of the town. They would essentially be trapped in the center of the gunfire.

“They’re fine.” He said bluntly, dragging me up the hill and towards the tree line, not entertaining the issue I presented. Whether he was truly confident with that statement, or burying his concern for the sake of focusing, was beyond me. I had to trust him; the snow beneath my feet made it difficult to keep my pace with him, but he had yet to let go of my vest, so I had no choice but to stumble after him.

A glance back at the village had my stomach clenching in worry. Would they be able to get out? I looked around at the bodies strewn in the snowy terrain around us, some civilians, some enemies, some of our own. Gunfire continued to echo through the frigid air – Evac wouldn’t be here for a while, I realized, staring at one of the cadaver’s rucksacks – which might not even matter, if we froze to death in the woods. We certainly weren’t prepared to wait out in the freezing cold, however, a native to Georgia might. I dug my heels into the ground and ripped myself from König’s hold, acting on an impulsive survival instinct.

“Was machst du?!” König yelled a babble of German that I ignored. I skidded to a halt by one of the bodies and rolled it over (with difficulty), searching frantically. C’mon, c’mon… I tore open the pockets on his tactical belt and scavenged what I though was useful. König scanned around us – the sound of bullets flying, along with the fact that we were not trying to move away from it, wasn’t sitting well with him.

“We need to go!” he shouted.  

“Alright alright!!” I said, finally snatching the backpack off of the body. Hopefully this is enough…

“Komm!!” König finally ran back, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me back towards the trees. I shouldered the backpack and followed closely behind. We ran as fast as we could up the hill – I struggled to match König’s wide stride, but his grip on my wrist forced me to keep up, or risk getting it torn off if I slowed down.

The sound of a rifle firing nearby made us both jump. König must have assumed the battle stayed within the village walls, however, we were sorely mistaken. The bullets landed in the snow beside us, barely missing our backs. I looked over my shoulder and saw two enemy soldiers steadily following us, shooting in our direction as they clamored up the hillside. I mumbled a curse – König kept tugging me upwards as bullets whizzed by our heads.

“Keep moving!” he ordered – though it fell on deaf ears.

I tore my wrist from König’s grasp and ripped my assault rifle from over my shoulder.

“Scheisse – Bonnie!” he shouted angrily, but I ignored him. If I didn’t try to kill them now, they were going to follow us into the woods.

I fell to my stomach, aimed the gun, and fired. The first few bullets took out the closest soldier – the other one ducked low to the ground, and that combined with the angle of the hill made it harder to hit him. He took position and fired again, missing my leg by a few inches. I pressed myself down, steadying my aim, and fired a final, fatal bullet into his back. He jolted from the impact before falling limply against the snow.

König grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up. “Auf mich!” he shouted, ushering me in front of him. I ran ahead while he scanned across the hill one last time, before we both stumbled into the line of trees.

I did my best to steady my breathing as we continued to sprint, despite the adrenaline starting to wear off. My thighs and shoulders were burning as the effects of the fight were finally catching up to me. Branches from the trees whipped against my body as I ran, stinging and scratching against my skin. Eventually, König passed me – lucky bastard with those stupid-ass long legs – and took the lead, running further and further into the dense thicket of trees. He started to slow down, deciding that we had gotten far enough away from the village.

Retreat always left a sour taste on my tongue.

I rested my hands on my knees, gasping desperately for air. My throat felt like it was burning and my entire body was shaking from the post-adrenaline rush. König leaned against a tree, his head lolling back as his chest heaved up and down. We were both spent – at this point, if there was still anyone pursuing us, our best bet would have been to hide – or just surrender.

I straightened up, placing my hands on my hips and tilting my head back. God, this is going to hurt later. König pushed himself away from the tree. His breathing had slowed to a normal pace, although the stress on his body was evident in every other aspect.

“What was that?!” he spat, pointing back towards the field.

A deep, fiery anger quickly began to simmer in my chest. I slowly looked at König, hands still on my hips and my expression furious. “What the fuck was what, colonel?” I said, my tone clear as day: tread lightly.

“That stunt you pulled earlier.” He stood directly in front of me, looking down through his mask with obvious anger. “Fucking posting up on the hill like that, acting like-“

“You mean saving our goddamn lives?!” I stepped forward so that I was right up against him, despite having to crane my neck up to meet his gaze. “Doing my fucking job?”

“We were fine!” he seethed. “They weren’t hitting us, yeah?”

“Yeah – because I fucking killed them, you’re welcome!” I glared at him with an irate look. “They would have pursued!”

“You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“Well guess who’s alive and who’s dead, huh?!”

“You made yourself an easy target by stopping there!”

“Are you fucking blind?! Or deaf? Did you hear anything that I just said, dipshit?!”

“Vorsichtig…” König spat at me, sticking a thick finger in my face.

“I don’t speak dumbass.” I retorted.

König’s eyes widened with fury, and he leaned down so that his face was inches from mine. “Hör mal, du kleiner Mistkerl- “

Suddenly, he stopped. I continued to stare directly into his eyes, adorning my own defiant glare. He was looking back at me, however, he was focused on something else. He glanced over my head, in the direction of the battle. Realizing he spotted something, I froze in place and listened intently. After a few moments, we heard the sound of quick footsteps, distant, yet approaching. An irritated voice was shouting as they ran towards us through the trees.

We both turned and ran. König ducked behind a tree and grabbed my arm (perhaps I wasn’t fast enough for him to tolerate) – he pulled me against him, with an arm around my waist, holding my own against my sides. He pressed himself against the tree, and his hand roughly covered my mouth. I didn’t even say anything…

We waited silently, listening as the soldier drew nearer. König’s hand around my waist grew tighter by the second, and his hand pressed harder against my mouth, as if he thought I might yell out to the assailant. The footsteps grew closer – the person didn’t even try to mask the sounds they made, speaking loudly into their comm. “I lost sight of the runners.” She said.

Dumb bitch, we weren’t that fast.

“Copy.” She replied to the inaudible voice on her comm. She quickly slipped by us without taking notice of our bodies, not even twenty feet from her. Once we were behind her, König expertly maneuvered us to the other side of the tree, his hand never leaving my mouth. I struggled to breathe against it, as his entire hand covered from my chin to my nose. But we waited quietly for the footsteps to fade into the distance, and then some more, until König was satisfied that she was gone.

He released my mouth; I fell to my knees and gasped for air. “Holy shit-“ I wheezed.

“Sorry…” he said wearily; a complete one-eighty from his recent outburst. I waved a hand at him, signaling that it was ok. He waited in silence as I struggled to catch my breath. The tension from moments before had subsided, although not completely. König shuffled awkwardly on his feet, rubbing a hand on the back of his head.

“I didn’t need to say all that…” he finally spoke. “I was just… fick, I don’t even know. It was a close call.”

I got back onto my feet. “Don’t worry about it.” I said, clearing my throat and dusting my pants off. “Just curious, what did you even say? In German?”

König looked at me, unmoving. “Ah…” he rubbed the back of his head. “Use your imagination and you’d probably be right. I’d rather not get into any more trouble today.”

I nodded, choosing to let the topic slide. “I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have said those things about you… to a fucking colonel, too.” I said with an apologetic chuckle.

König shrugged. “I’ve heard worse. What you said was tame.” He paused a moment, then broke away from my gaze, looking at his surroundings and sighing. He paused in the direction of where the soldier had disappeared into. “I wonder why she would move so far away from the fight…” he said,  “that seems reckless.”

I shrugged. “She was following orders.” I replied, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck from side to side. “But the way she tracks is what’s piss-poor; heard that bitch from a mile away.”

König chuckled. “With a sniper rifle and a good angle, I could shoot her from here.” He held his hands up, positioning his non-existent gun on his shoulders, aiming in her direction. His shoulder blade was soaked in blood; something I hadn’t picked up before. It made me panic momentarily – when did he get that? Was that before or after we fled? – but I soon noticed that it wasn’t that deep. It needed to be patched up, for sure, but he wasn’t suffering from blood loss.

“Right, well“ - I slipped the backpack off of my shoulders and began rifling through it- “before we try chasing her down, you need stitches.”

Arms still in the air, König looked back at the cut. “Eh,” he began, reaching over to touch it. “I think I will be fine, this could be worse.”

I nodded and pulled out a suture kit. “Exactly: we’re gonna fix it before it does get any worse.” I pointed a finger at him. “On the ground, big guy.”

König dropped to his knees (a little too quickly) and stared up at me. I paused, shocked at the immediate obedience, and chuckled to myself. I got down on my knees, and König shifted to fully sit down so that I was at a comfortable level with his shoulder.

“You’re gonna need to take your shirt off.” I said. “I’m not tearing it up when it’s this cold. You’ll need it.”

König faltered, as if he was going to protest, but all that came from him was a sigh. He started with his arm guards, followed by his tactical belt, radio antenna, and his helmet, tossing them into a pile next to him. He pulled the hem of his shirt from his waistband, then paused. “Mask stays on.” He ordered.

I raised my hands defensively. “Fine by me.” I reached a hand under the back of his shirt, snaking it up and through the top of his collar. I could feel the smooth muscle of his back covered by a layer of sweat, despite the cold weather. I grabbed the back of his mask and pulled it back underneath his shirt. “Hold the front end under the shirt and then take it off. I’ll hold it back here.”

His breath hitched in his throat, followed by a very visible shiver. He reached through his shirt to grab the front end of his mask, before pulling the shirt over his head, wincing as it peeled away from his wound, and discarded it with the rest of his gear.

The cut was deep and angry, but thankfully it wasn’t terrible. König definitely needed stitches – luckily, that would be the only thing he needed. I grabbed a bottle of iodine solution from the kit as he watched, and he sighed. He pulled one of his gloves off and folded it between his teeth, preparing for the pain.

“Quick sting-“ I warned, popping the lid off of the bottle and pouring it sparingly over the wound. König inhaled sharply and groaned, barely muffled by the glove. I winced at his pain and mumbled an apology. I started threading a suture through his skin, focusing hard on being as gentle as possible. I could feel each fiber of his muscle tugging against the thread. His back was tense, flexed and unmoving as I worked. I peered at the scars on his back; some small, some long, some were thin lines, and others were wide gashes. Even a few bullet scars here and there. I noticed a dusting of freckles smattered across his upper back, thinning out the further down they traveled. Kinda looks like falling stars…

“Scheisse!” he suddenly growled, bringing me back to the situation at hand. Get it together – bad time to get distracted. I glanced up at him and watched as he breathed forcefully through the pain. He would suck a long breath in, before pushing it out between tightened lips, ending it with a small groan.

I looked back down to the wound and continued working. “Sorry, it shouldn’t be too much longer here.”

“Eh, you’re fine.” He said through clenched teeth. “I’ve done this plenty of times, though it never gets any easier.”

I tied off the last suture and grabbed the peroxide once more. I showed it to him as a heads-up. He chuckled. “Give me your hand for this one, yeah?”

I smirked and offered my hand, which he held tightly. He shoved the glove back into his mouth and faced the opposite direction, as if he was trying to be as far away from the pain as possible. I poured the solution on the stitched cut and he immediately hissed in pain. His hand squeezed mine with an inhuman amount of pressure, popping my knuckles and sending pain through my fingers, and I mumbled my own string of expletives. Remind me to never let him do that again. I quickly covered the wound with a piece of gauze and some tape, my hand still occupied by König’s.

“Sorry…” he said, releasing my hand.

I examined my fingers. “All good. I probably deserved that.”

“For what?” he asked, grabbing his shirt and slipping it back over his body.

“I dunno…” I said, leaning back on my heels as he turned to look at me. “I got you distracted on the field.”

“Anything could have distracted me. I’m glad it was just you…” He sat back against the tree. “… and nothing more dangerous.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “You don’t think I’m dangerous?” I quipped.

König laughed and shook his head. “At least not to me. The only thing I fear in you is your attitude. It’s quite sour.”

I scrunched my nose at his comment, followed by a playful jab to his shoulder. He inhaled sharply in pain and I winced, realizing that I had struck his wound. “Sorry!”

Night had fallen (quicker than we expected), and the forest was now freezing. We decided against making a fire, in case the enemy was still clearing out the field. I had been hoping and praying that the rest of them were alright: that Roze, Horangi, and everyone else had made it out of the village and into the woods somewhere, or at least managed to find evac, once they had gotten there. I would let myself freeze to death in the forest if I knew thy had died there. Still, the not knowing was almost worse.

König was pressing his back against a tree with his arms folded over his chest – surprisingly, he wasn’t shivering, but he still looked irritated with the current weather. He occasionally paced around our hiding spot, scanning the woods for any sign of… anything, really. But the world remained quiet, save the crunching of the ground under König’s heavy steps and my teeth clacking together.

I was frigid. I had crouched against the base of a tree, knees tightly scrunched to my chest with my arms tucked in between them. I was blowing warm breaths over my fingers – the fingertips of my gloves were cut off long ago to help have a better grip on things, and the current situation made me regret making that choice. My muscles twitched and shivered as my body tried to generate what little heat it could, which wasn’t much. My fingers and toes began to sting from the cold. Never thought I’d die from hypothermia… first time for everything, I guess.

König rubbed the sides of his arms, clearly not as cold as I was. He stopped pacing, watching me as the sound of my chattering echoed through the small patch of woods we were in. “You alright there?”

I nodded, never meeting his gaze. “P-eachy.” I said, my shivering taking over my voice.

“You won’t make like this before evac gets here.” He scanned the woods again, as if our rescue was about to come running through the trees any second now. Wishful thinking.

“Hopefully it d-oesn’t take that l-long for me t-o pass.” I joked. Neither König nor I found it funny.

König sighed. He dropped himself at the base of a tree and leaned back, spreading his legs in front of him. He looked at me and patted the ground in between them expectantly.

For a moment, I was taken aback enough to stop shivering. “Huh?”

“Come here.” He said, frustrated. “I’m trying to warm you up, blödmann. I’d rather not have you die right next to me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew whatever he called me was an insult. “No thanks, I’ll be f-fine.” I turned my head back down, exhaling warmth over my fingers. The thought of sitting in König’s lap like that was embarrassing, and something I was absolutely not about to do. Ever.

He stared at me, his eyes blank. I could feel the irritation radiating off of him, but I didn’t care. He couldn’t force me to do anything, and I know he wouldn’t try.

“It’s an order.” He stated firmly, his voice slightly deeper than before.

I looked at him with surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Are you forgetting that I’m a colonel?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

I scoffed. “Sometimes you forget- “

“I’m not going to repeat myself, sergeant.” He warned.

And there it was. That feeling. That electric zap in my lower abdomen. That stupid sensation that had got me in trouble with Ghost over a year ago. All from a single order from my superior. I stared at König, hoping my arousal wasn’t obvious, as I attempted to shank every single butterfly in my stomach. Christ, get it together you slut…

I sighed, standing up and moving towards König, who chuckled smugly. Rather than sit in between his legs, I planted myself next to him, our shoulders and hips touching. I brought my knees to my chest again while his remained splayed out in front of him. The excitement I felt earlier was gone, now replaced with an awkwardness. I couldn’t stop the small frown that settled on my face.

König froze at our touch, seeming to feel the awkwardness too. It was a bit amusing, seeing him flop between being cocky and sheepish. Eventually, he relaxed, ever so slightly leaning into my side. Soon, he gained enough courage to wrap an arm around my shoulders.

Reflexively, I tensed and pulled away a bit. “You don’t need – “

“I don’t want to hear it, Bonnie.” He said, pulling me back in. His words expressed superiority, yet his voice sounded anxious. “I’m keeping my teammate warm. I don’t want you to freeze to death out here. We’re benefitting each other, you know.”

I hesitated to give in; in all honesty, König was very warm… even his fingers. They gently rubbed the side of my arm through my sleeve, sending pins and needles through my skin as the feeling began to come back. My head fit easily against the side of his chest, and I felt good too… not even aroused, just safe. The stress from the mission and worrying about my team – it all was catching up to me, but now it was being absorbed into the warmth of König’s form.

I sighed, leaning against his body as a shiver ran up my spine. Under the smell of sweat and gunpowder, there was a hint of musk. I hated how it comforted me.

He felt my movement and chuckled. “Not so bad, huh?”

“Stuff it.” I replied curtly.

König laughed, charmed by my stubbornness, I assumed. “Here, give me your hands.” He opened his free hand and offered it to me. I reluctantly obliged, my sense of reason now being controlled by my dropping temperature. He was able to close his hand around both of mine, gently kneading my fingertips between his. The blood rushing back to my hands was painful, but the accompanied warmth was welcomed. I stared at his large hand massaging mine with half-lidded eyes; now that I felt safe, I realized how tired I had been for the past several hours.

“Thanks.” I mumbled. Even though I was feeling better, the situation was still embarrassing. I tried not to rely on people if I could help it.

“Go to sleep.” He said, ignoring my comment and letting go of my hands. “I’ll keep first watch. It’ll give you a few hours of rest.” He kept his gaze forward, aligned with the trees with an iron stare.

I huffed, tucking my hands into my sides and leaning into him further. I could sense he was just as apprehensive about our unfortunate situation, unwilling to acknowledge the tension between us – which was probably for the better. If we could hold off until evac reached us, we could pretend this had never happened. I let my eyes close, bristling against the contrast of the frigid air and König’s warm muscle, choosing to be thankful that I wasn’t out here alone – and that neither was he.

Right before sleep blanketed over my senses, gently pulling me down from awareness, I felt his arm shifting back around me to hold me closer. I smiled.

I startled awake from a dreamless sleep – pain shot through my fingers and toes when they tensed up. The freezing bite of the wind nipped at them, and they burned as my blood began to flow throughout my limbs.

I looked up at König, at poor, poor König…

He was still sitting upright, his one arm draped limply over my body. His eyes were fixed forwards on the tree line – they were narrowed against the chill of the wind, and dark bags had formed underneath them. His posture was slouched, and occasionally he would drift forwards, only to jerk himself back against the tree. He blinked slowly as he fought away the sleep.

“König?!” I pushed myself upright, staring at him with concern. “Oh my god, are you ok?!”

“Bitte,” he said, still looking at the trees ahead. “Ich muss schlafen…”

“What?”

“I need to sleep.”

“Shit, why didn’t you say something?” I asked, sitting up against the tree.

“I tried. You wouldn’t wake up.” His voice was gravelly from his lack of sleep. “You snored.”

“I- what?” I pulled my head back, looking up at him with an offended expression. “I snored?”

“Like a horse. May I please lie down?”

I scowled. That doesn’t even make any sense… I pressed myself against the tree trunk, ushering him to lean against me. “Yeah, you sleep, Colonel. I’ll keep a lookout.”

Instead of resting against my side, König completely flopped down into my lap. I let out an oof as he landed – it felt like a tree had just fallen on my legs. He let out a long, tired groan, his eyes finally closing for the night. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and hugged them close – his fingers were freezing, making me inhale sharply as he tucked them between my thighs for warmth. I didn’t even have the mental capacity to react to the gesture due to the frigidity.

“König-“ I began to protest.

“Es ist so kalt.”

“… huh?”

“It’s cold.” He mumbled.

I hovered my hands above his body, unsure of where to put them. I glanced around the dark woods, only being able to decipher one tree from the next by the light of the moon. Why am I nervous? There’s no one here but us.

That’s exactly why I was nervous.

I sighed, rubbing my hands roughly over König’s arms to warm him up. He grunted something in appreciation, squeezing my legs tighter. I bit my lip and prayed that he wouldn’t crush me. Despite his appendages being cold, his torso was relatively warm, still. As much as I hated to think about it, his current position over my body did a much better job at fighting the cold than how we had sat before.

“You gonna be alright?” I asked.

Silence. Then, a long, grating snore, akin to a chainsaw cutting through a tree trunk.

I huffed, patting his shoulder (the uninjured one). I leaned my head back against the tree trunk, fixing my gaze to the trees ahead of us. The forest was utterly silent, save for the occasional whisper of wind rustling through the leaves. Thankfully, the ground was spared from snow due to the thick coverage of the trees. My breath froze in the air, puffs of icy clouds wilting away before me. I looked back down at König: he was out like a light, face pressed into my hip and fingers clenching between my thighs.

Wish I had a camera.

Next ->

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[zer0pm]

Imagine demanding Luis to unlock your chains. When he doesn’t, you take matters into your own hands.

A/N: DID SOMEONE SAY PART 2 OF THIS PIECE?!

You did and I’m grateful for all the love that has been thrown for my work. So here’s me giving some of that love back. Hope you enjoy 🙏

Warning: SMUT AHEAD. Look away, minors! Look away! Avert your eyes from the sexual content! Shoo! Begone!

Warning 2: It’s quite long so mentally prepare yourself.

.

.

“I still didn’t catch your name.”

The cheek on this guy. Using the fact that he holds the key to your restraints as a bargaining chip to become familiar with you. As if he hadn’t just forced you into a partnership with him already. The absolute nerve. You had more important things to do, such as finding Leon and the president’s daughter. And this Luis Serra was effectively wasting your precious time. Well, two can play this game.

You start by offering him an inviting smile before relaxing your hands until your palms pressed flat against his chest. The man didn’t seem to fully register your subtle movement until you slid them upwards, feeling the fine leather beneath your fingertips. The motion takes him by surprise, his eyes following your touch. He then casts an inquisitive glance your way.

“¿Que haces?” Apparently he wasn’t expecting this, convinced that you didn’t much care for him and thus was taken so off guard that he slipped into his native tongue. He must have remembered himself right after as he repeated the question, making sure that it sounded more direct. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Voice comes out in a low, sultry drawl as you grip the lapel of his jacket with one hand, gently tugging at the material. “I’m about to give you what you want. But I’m going to need you to come closer.”

Once you were certain that you had his complete attention while also making sure that you didn’t lose yourself in the mesmerizing grey of his eyes, you make your move. With your other hand, as best as the chains allowed, you reach for the key that was lodged in the lock of your chains. Disguising your intention, you run your fingers down the expanse of his chest in an explorative manner. This earned an appreciative hum from the Spaniard as he leans his head towards you expectantly.

Too easy.

Mindful not to look down between you two so as to not give yourself away, you lean in as well while also blindly searching for the key. “My name is…” you whisper. His bated breath mingles with yours, the lids of his eyes heavy, grey growing dark in anticipation. Another inch from either one of you and the gap will close. Just as your fingertips touched the end of the key, something warm firmly grips your hand. A sudden chill runs down your spine.

You can hear the reverb of something between a scoff and a chuckle come from Luis’ lips. “Nice try,” he smirks knowingly.

With a strength that catches you off guard, he pushes you away from him. Key in hand. He flaunts the tiny piece of metal before swinging his arm as if he was making a play to toss it aside. In your panic, you jump towards him, shoving him off balance with your shoulder. He breaks your fall as you two tumble down together.

The man curses in Spanish from the sudden pain and you took advantage of this by quickly searching for the key. You spot it a bit of a ways above Luis’ head and use both bound hands to reach for it once more. The chain that links your wrists together are caught by a familiar hand and suddenly pulled down until your hands were restrained between your two bodies once more. You sigh in frustration and the man beneath you clicks his tongue against his teeth.

There is an amused glimmer in his gaze as he speaks. “The stubborn-type, eh? All this trouble over a name.”

You in turn throw him an annoyed glare. “I was going to say the same about you.”

Instead of showing offense, he laughs. “Perhaps we’re more alike than you might think.”

Rather than entertain him further, you try to wrestle against his hold. Luis seemed prepared for it this time, matching your strength, only he had the advantage as he had free reign of his arms and hands. One hand kept your chained hands between your chests, the other gripped at the bicep of your arm, effectively minimizing upper body movement. Out of instinct, you rebelliously wriggle with your hips and legs with the sole focus of getting off of him. However, the man’s longer limbs kept you caged against him and the only thing you managed to do was awkwardly seat your bottom on him, knees bent by his sides.

When you grounded down in your struggle, the man tensed below you. Thinking you have finally one-up him, you repeated the action and noticed he wasn’t nearly putting up as good a fight as he did before. This allowed you to sit upright, dragging his hand with you until his arm extended slightly, and you continued your efforts to be free of him.

Luis’ breath became labored. “Stop.” he commands with gritted teeth, his voice barely above a whisper. When you didn’t listen to him, he moved his other hand from your arm to your hip, squeezing harshly in warning.

“¡Basta! Stop moving!” he growls.

You bark back defiantly, “I’ll get off when you let me get the fuckin-“

That’s when you felt it. Or rather- him. A hardness pressed beneath your nether region. Despite the layers of fabric, there was no mistaking the telling throbbing pushing up against you as if demanding your attention below.

Your throat runs dry but your brain kept sending signals to your mouth. “Ar…. Are you-“

“Sí.” the man had a pained, conflicted look about him, a picture of breathtaking self-control as he kept his body completely still. His eyes didn’t meet yours, gaze locked upon where your hips met as if to keep himself in check and not allow his body’s desires to act out untowardly.

“Surely you know how the human body works,” he tries to sound clinical, face strained in vague distress, “and will not fault me for the involuntary reactions of mine. It already doesn’t help that you’re easy on the eyes.”

You should be chastising him for getting excited when it was neither the time or place and danger was surely around the corner, but bit your lip at your own wave of pleasure upon feeling his arousal pulse. A totally different kind of heat washes over you.

What do you do now?

Neither of you spoke for a moment, a tense silence settling in until Luis breaks it with a forced cough.

“Well, this is- uh, fun.” he says without humor. “Pero, perhaps we can call it even and stop the game here. ¿Sí?”

His words went in one ear and out the other. You were frustrated beyond belief. Fueled by adrenaline and temptation. There was no one around. And you have an impossibly handsome Spanish man between your legs with a hard-on for you.

When you didn’t answer, he spoke up again. “As much as I like this position, I must regrettably ask that you- Whoa!”

As best as you could, you shoot your bound hands straight up in the air. As he still had a grip on the chain link, Luis was dragged upright into a seated position from the floor and his face stopped right in front of yours. The movement caused friction in both of your sensitive areas, mouths could do nothing to stop the groans that escaped them. His eyes open to your heated gaze, confusion and desire swirling in the grey irises.

You breathe, “You talk too much, Luis Serra.”

And it was you who closed the distance. Teeth and tongue clashed in a new battle filled with pent-up energy and lust. Your mind quickly becomes hazy as you allowed yourself to be consumed in his emanating heat and musky scent. A nip at his bottom lip earned you an enthusiastic thrust of his hips, an appreciative squeeze at your bottom rewarded him with a carnal moan from your mouth. The only time you pulled back was for air and the man before you glances between your dazed eyes and bruised lips, hypnotized by your already ruined appearance.

“Are we, uh, still playing the same game?” His question nearly disarms you. You have a feeling he was really asking if you were of sound of mind about this. Your eyes roll reflexively.

“Really going to keep running your mouth?” You then follow up with a roll of your hips, the Spaniard throws his head back with a deep, guttural groan. Dark wavy locks brush against his cheekbones, eyes shut closed. With his thick neck exposed, you steal kisses along his sensitive pulse and stubbled jaw. Another primal groan vibrates from his throat.

“Eres muy mala.” Luis grumbles without a hint of disdain. Rather, when you finally pull back to allow him to look at you, you find him wearing that familiar cocky smirk. “But I must admit, I’m kind of into it.”

A charmer through and through this man is. His next move takes you by surprise.

He shoves you off of him.

As soon as you recover from your initial shock, the dark-haired man grabs you by the chain again and drags you to the far end of the room, further away from the key and exit. Using his strength and your own momentum against you, Luis tosses you forward. Your upper body lands right on top of a wide metal table propped against the dingy concrete wall.

He takes advantage of your momentary state of confusion by forcing your arms to extend towards the wall. It wasn’t until you heard the unmistakable click of metal did you fully regain your senses and look up to see what he did. The arrogant man used one of the wall mounts to lock your chains taut in place. He literally chained your chains. You’re caught in a trap again!

Just as you were about to curse him out, you feel something hard press firmly against your bottom followed by a pair of warm hands settling at your hips and the heat you didn’t realize you were missing came back in throes. You almost wanted to point out how unfair the shift in dynamic was, but all coherent thoughts were thrown out the window when he started grinding into you.

“There,” Luis hums at your apparent silence, “much better.”

Damn him. And he had the gall to say you were bad.

His movements were slow and methodical, like he was testing the waters to see if you were actually fine with this. Your pleased sighs were the signs he needed to continue and go beyond. Next, you feel his curious hands rubbing at your sides over your shirt before he lifts it enough to slip them beneath the fabric. Feeling his skin on yours sent chills throughout your body. His touch wanders, palming at your every curve, line, and muscle and you melted into his hands, encouraging his exploration.

The temperature in the room was becoming unbearably hot. As if hearing this thought, you were pulled up by your torso as far as the chains would allow and felt your back meet his chest. Now, his hardness was at your lower back and you purposefully melded your backside against his straining cock, mentally drawing the length of him. Needless to say, without even seeing it, you were impressed by his size. The man didn’t carry himself confidently without warrant. A soft, almost adoring kiss upon the shell of your ear pulls you from your shameless thoughts.

He whispers hoarsely, “My friend, are you particularly fond of this shirt?”

“What?” you manage to choke out. “Why are you aski-”

The sound of tearing answered your question before you can finish it. Tattered fabric scatters around your feet and the air within the room suddenly felt like soft caresses on your bare torso.

“You didn’t even let me answer!” Your voice sounded more excited than annoyed.

“Lo siento. You were too slow.” Luis presses another chaste kiss to the side of your head. However, you can practically feel his wicked grin. “And frankly, are much too sexy for clothing, anyways.”

Damn, this man was making you feel things.

Despite your skin now bare against the elements, it did little to alleviate the heat building within you. It only amplified when his hands returned to your form, making a slow, sinful journey from your stomach to your upper chest. The pad of his fingers push upon the sensitive buds of your nipples, earning a wanton gasp from your lips. His hips jerk forward at the sound you made, his erection pulsing against your ass, sparking tiny, wonderful jolts of electricity within you. The sensations were making your toes curl.

One hand sneaks back down, his thumb finding it’s way under the hem of your jeans and underwear. His reach teases towards your sensitive spot and you bite your lip in anticipation, wanting so badly for him to touch you where you need him to but your mind too much of a mess to voice it into proper words.

“Mírate,” his warm breath fans against your ear in hoarse, gentle whispers. “Promixa vez… Te quiero llevar a la cama.”

You only manage to translate “Next time…” until the synapses in your brain fire all at once when his fingers began to toy your sex without warning. When his skillful hand deftly undid your jeans, you didn’t know, but at the moment, you didn’t care.

Holy hell. This guy was playing your body like a fine-tuned instrument and your voice eagerly sounded to his ministrations. Your moans and gasps music to his ears. The coil in the pit of your stomach was tightening to the point of snapping as his hand quickened the pace upon your bundle of nerves. He was stroking you graciously while also harshly grinding you into the edge of the table from behind. Your voice was reaching greater heights from the onslaught of overwhelming sensations.

“Last chance, my friend.” Luis growls, barely reigning in his instinct to simply bend you over and have his way with you. “Are we still playing the same game?”

The same question echoes. He asks one thing but really means another. This dashing, infuriating man is asking you if you want to go all the way, past the point of no return. Luis Serra is a stranger. Yet he had the sense and consideration to weigh your feelings in the matter, giving you an choice to opt out even though it would have been so easy to let it lie and let your baser instincts take over. It was almost romantic in a way. You didn’t have to think twice about this.

“Either you fuck me now,” you pant, chains clinking around your wrists, “or I’ll find my way out of these and fuck you myself.”

Luis chuckles lowly in intrigue. “¿Prometes?”

He makes quick work on the rest of your clothing, letting your pants and underwear fall at your ankles. He helps guide you completely out of them. It was probably a strange sight. You completely exposed while he was completely clothed. The only bits of him you can hear rustling is the buckle of his belt and the zipper of his pants coming undone. You were starting to shiver from anxious chills until you felt an arm wrap around you assuringly.

A patient hand gently fingers your entrance, preparing your body for something larger. You eventually move along rhythm of his fingers, goading him to take it to the next level and he acquiesces to your silent request. The heavy heat of his cock that was poking between the gap of your thighs move upwards. Your body instinctively tenses when the head of his member prods against your opening. Luis’ lips pressed against your temple in comfort and finally, finally, he slowly sinks into you. You gasp and he curses.

No amount of foreplay could have prepared you for him. Not all the way in and already you felt so full of him, his cock throbbing against every sensitive nerve inside of you. You whimper in both pain and pleasure and Luis tends to you by wrapping his arms around your middle, planting more kisses along the side of your head right behind your ear.

“Estoy aquí, ángel. Té tengo.”

Like the gentleman he portrays himself to be, he waits for you to relax around him. With great self-control, he pumps into you slowly with a tenderness that could bring tears to your eyes. The initial discomfort soon faded and was replaced by wonderful bouts of sensual ecstasy that has you gasping. Luis keeps up the pace with gusto, nearly pulling all the way out and slamming back into you. The pressure he was piling inside you with every thrust has you screaming to the point that you can feel your voice growing hoarse. Meanwhile, you can hear him moaning his praises for you in his birth tongue. This man wasn’t just talking himself a big game. He knows what he’s doing, fueling his pleasure by ensuring your own. And he was making certain that you chased yours fast.

He pulls out and you involuntarily whimper at the loss of contact. You weren’t left alone for long as he lifts you to lay on your side on the table, your hands forced to rise above your head at this new position. Luis grabs a hold of one of your legs and bends it at the knee over his shoulder, entering your heat once more. Your blood boils fiercely at this new angle, you can see him and everything he was doing to you. And he can see you’re practically rendered speechless with every powerful thrust. At this rate, you weren’t going to last. The fluttering inside your core now popping like firecrackers.

Sweat pours down his handsome face, pupils dilated black with desire for you. “¿Cómo te llamas, ángel? Tell me. And I’ll give you what you want.”

He’s asking for your name again. The catalyst behind this whole affair. “Really bent on that, aren’t you?” you manage to pant out, your lungs barely keeping up with each strong snap of his hips.

“I wasn’t at first, only wanted to tease you.” He groans, his voice finding difficulty to stay level when he’s fucking into you without abandon. “But now- ah! I really want to know. I want to call out your name. ¡Joder! Let me call out your name, mi amor.”

The way he was begging tugged at you deep. Your name was on the edge of your tongue, but your heart was gripped with fear. Fear that if you so much as uttered what he’s asking of you, the spell would be broken and you’d be left unsatisfied. This felt too damn good to risk ruin with sentimentality. So you did what you have been doing best. Prevaricate. And make him want you more.

“Uncuff me. And I’ll tell you anything. Anything you want.”

You feel the vibrations of a laugh rumble deep from his chest.

“Eres tan… ¡Mierda!”

Like a cord finally snapping, the dam breaks and everything building inside spills out with a long, final cry of ecstasy. Stars dotted your vision, for a moment you forgot to breathe as you feel yourself unraveling. Within, you feel him cumming inside as well. Liquid hot ropes painting your insides, leaving you quivering uncontrollably. His hips slow to an eventual stop, his voice coming out in soft, satisfied sighs.

Slowly letting your leg down, Luis pulls himself out and hovers over you, hands flat beside your head. The man peppers your back and shoulders with soft nips and kisses. His stubble makes slow, sensual scratches along your skin as he reaches up to the flesh of your ear, biting onto the lobe affectionately. You turn your head to meet his lips with yours, noting how wonderful his kisses feel. He pulls away slightly to study you intently, varying emotions flashing over his eyes.

“Now,” he started, “about that name.”

Back at this again. You had to admire the man for his tenacity. “Told you already,” you huff once your breath returned to you, tugging at the chains around your wrist. “Remove these cuffs and I’ll think about it.”

His voice cracks in disbelief, “That was not what you said- ¿En serio? After all of that?”

“You’re more than welcome to keep working for it.” The words left your lips before you can stop them and an amused groan escapes from Luis’ own, sending another sinful heat to flow down your core.

“Eres muy mala.” He sighs with a shake of his head. There was no hint of annoyance in his husky tone, a devilish smirk plastered on his face. “Hanging with you- not healthy.”

“Right back at ya.” The remark earned a swift smack on your ass. You almost yelp out of reflex and shifted your eyes to glare at him.

The way he looked at you, however, tells you that he wasn’t against the idea of going again. And truthfully, you were all for it. Luis leans over to capture your lips once more, sweet and filled with promise, while his hand began to wander your body mischievously. The familiar tingle of heat starts to boil inside-

The alarming sound of inhuman groans down the hall jolts you two from your intimate high. Spell broken and you fully take in your nakedness in this increasingly dire situation.

“Get these chains off, Luis!”

“¡Sí, sí! Right away!”

[calisources]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

All sentences has been taken from different media and soruces about life in the royal court, involving the introgue of succession, war, marriage, kings and queens and tournaments. Most of this are acceptable for all audience except one with some foul language. Chance names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

Ten years of shadows, but no longer. Light up the darkness, Majesty.

You don't know a woman until you've met her in court.

A queen keeps a court that is spoken about. A goddess keeps a court that is never forgotten.

And you, lady? Are you a woman of conscience or of ambition?

That's a question rarely asked here at court.

Court games aren't fair. They don't judge men by their worth, and they aren't about what's just.

We know all men are not created equal in the sense some people would make us believe .

Either you break the law, or the law breaks you.

There is no playacting in this court. If you stay your hand, they will cut it off.

Power does not pardon, power punishes.

Listen! The court jester's cap and bells. The King is coming!

He was a man with a vision- and an extraordinary vision it was.

The cat who lived in the Palace had been awarded the head-dress of nobility and was called Lady Myobu.

In every reign there comes one night of greatest blackness, when a King must send away his court of flatterers and servants, and sit alone in the dark with the beast called truth.

It is important to refuse to be intimidated.

They all come innocent in court.

Is that how you get propositioned at the court? 'Mylady, would you be so kind as to allow me to put my manhood in your vagina'?

They used to say that, in a battle between the lion and the tiger, the winner was the monkey, who watched from a distance.

Men love those creatures that need to be taken care of.

 If you want to tame a lioness you need to become a lion, not a goat. 

 A doe is easier to keep.

The woman did not care for empty compliments; to get such a woman, one needed to put forth effort.

I’m a terrible prince. I should put my kingdom first and everything else second, but your first. I want you by my side every second . . .

Once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia.

She calls herself the Queen of Narnia thought she has no right to be queen at all.

Plenty of people have told me you are not my father.

It is necessary for a prince to have the people friendly.”

Royalty is not a right, Captain. The willingness of the people to follow a ruler is what gives her power.

Here, in this place, by this people, I have been chosen. 

These men are tired of being told whom to follow. Now they have a choice, and they use that choice to call me Princess.

I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. 

A prince ought also to show himself a patron of ability, and to honour the proficient in every art.

You should never have been only a little girl, you should have always been a crown princess.

You knew you would be sending me away?

A born king is a very rare being.

The world will need to know that I’m the last royal left. Their queen.

There’s royalty in me, but stronger than that there is adventure.

My life is the Crown and yours is politics, and I will not trade one prison for another.

Dignity is trained into royal children before they can toddle.

The first year of marriage is not always easy, especially within the Royal Family.

The real intelligence in the royal family comes through my parents .

The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.

The royal road to a man's heart is to talk to him about the things he treasures most.

The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.

The winner will marry the prince.

You want to marry my daughter? Prove yourself worthy.

That is acceptable. A king is a martyr to their ideals.

f I rule the nation as king, I cannot ask to live as a person.

A wise king never seeks out war, but... he must always be ready for it.

All men need something greater than themselves to look up to and worship. They must be able to touch the divine here on earth

I am the First Imperial Princess of the Misurugi Empire! 

You can tell she's a princess, she doesn't need a crown.

You, sir, are the most uncharming prince I have ever met! In fact, the only thing royal about you is that you are a royal pain.

No one ever told her "no." 

 In no time at flat, she'll get herself established as his official mistress, with her own rooms at the palace.

These men are my bodyguards, their lives forfeit to the guarantee of my physical safety. Of their loyalty to me, there shall be no question nor doubt.

Some balls are held for charity And some for fancy dress, But when they're held for pleasure They're the balls that I like best.

Be careful of what women with gowns plan, specially in a ballroom. 

The art of husband seeking is something every woman has been trained since birth.

Many wives and consorts, of course.

Who is to rule when I am gone? You are a princess. I have no son.

Men would sooner put the realm to the torch than see a woman ascend the Iron Throne.

Did I not mention there was another?

A king must always have an heir and a spare.

He was born to be a king... He rules men just by breathing. When he walks into a room, he commands it. People love him.

Two knights off to rescue a princess. Sounds like a great song.

As the king's brother, you should've been first in line!

 I was first in line. Until the little hairball was born.

That "hairball" is my son, and your future king.

My parents were... rather traditional. They wanted the heir and the spare, and I was left in the cold.

It cannot be easy being the youngest prince. To have others expect nothing from you, yet still shake their heads in disapproval.

 If my uncle attacks King's Landing I'll ride out to meet him.

You are in need of serious princess lessons.

 You're the new ruler of Mechanicsburg. You need to act like it.

Every princess needs a battle axe. Here. Use this one until we find you something more impressive.

You know what they used to write on cannons? The last argument of kings. I guess you could say magic is the last argument of queens.

A tournament has been arranged in your name, so you must attend and make yourself presentable.

They hope to find me a husband here. They said I am already a woman bled.

[corvin-ito]

okay btw one of my wreck-it ralph movie universe headcanons is that theres bosses in heros duty, which are the various soldiers getting turned into cy-bugs.

now, i imagine that the programmers of the game had to implement code to delete the "becoming a cy-bug and dying" part of the characters memory because before doing that the characters would Stop Showing Up in the bossfights for Some Reason (the characters chose not to show up. but. the devs dont know theyre sentient.)

which this is a good enough band-aid solution! especially for personal ports of the game where like the characters will only sometimes experience the boss fights, and no little errors in their code can crop up. especially very little issues for physical copies of the game (unless the disk scratches or somthin)

but in an arcade enviroment? where hundreds of kids are playing daily? and where the hero's duty and other arcade game characters can interact? the tiniest imperfection- the tiniest memory leak (a litteral one in this case) can be fucking devestating.

thats what i think happened to markowski. i think he had a tiny imperfection in his code where ! oops ! he doesnt forget being turned into a cy-bug! and i also think markowski would be the first boss in heros duty. so like. in One Week of bein g plugged in he's been turned into a bug over and over and killed over and over (either from the player's gun or the big ol bug zapper lazer) and no one fucking believes him because THEIR MEMORY GETS ERASED EVERY TIME.

i think that, in other arcades in the WIR universe, arcades where there was never a Turbo incident, Hero's Duty would be a problem game of apocalyptic proportions. like. One Guy doesnt show up for a quarter alert because hes sick of becoming a bug and it kinda fucks up the game a little. And like, theres a significant risk of a Cy-bug breaking out and getting into another machine.

arcades with copies of heros duty end up having to replace some of their games because of "dead pixels" (cy-bug swarms rendering as just green blurs) or "missing assets" (cy-bugs destroying everything in sight) or the entire machine just. breaking. the outlet it was in exploding (in cases where the hero's duty characters notice a cy-bug escape and manage to quarintine it in one of the games it fled to. rare "good" ending where they evacuate the characters and blow up the exit before the cy-bugs infect another game)

some arcades just straight up go out of buisness because cy-bugs have taken over all of the games. they just cant be stopped if there's no beacon. and most games wouldnt have one! sugar rush was really lucky that diet cola mountain was there and the devs didnt think it a waste of gigabytes and cut it. real "we put this tomato out of bounds because if we deleted it the game broke" energy.

and nobody outside of the game world would know whats Really happening.

Litwak's Arcade, though? there's probably a therapy group that gets started for game characters. one similar to bad anon but maybe one thats a seperate branch for hero characters, especially fighter / shooter / general violent video game characters. like bad anon and similar groups would have been started because of Turbo and these groups were essentially formed to stop other characters from doing something so drastic. so litwak's arcade ends up being one of the few arcades with a still functional cabinet of Hero's Duty.

also i think that in a "turbo/king candy coded himself so deeply into sugar rush that he respawns" AU he would remember being a cy-bug and it would be. just. the worst fucking thing to have experienced! not only would he remember being eaten he would remember being burned to death by boiling hot soda! cause hes not programmed to deal with that. any character not from hero's duty would not be programmed to forget what being a cy-bug was like and it would be traumatic as hell. because i do think it fucks with your brain as well. i dont think all of cy-bug candy's behaviour was himself, i think a lot of that was the cy-bug just basically being given voice. i think the bug moreso took on some of king candy/turbos personaly rather than turbo taking over the bug.

characters who die after being eaten by a cy-bug will respawn like normal if they're in their correct game though. so if a cy-bug invasion happened but the bugs were exterminated, the characters would be fine. plus games have a world reset condition so damage can likely be repaired (like how for sugar rush the world reset condition was vanellope crossing the finish line.)

it would have lasting effects for sure. probably different ones depending on the individual. i think turbo specifically would end up with an "i need to BITE everyone" kind of lasting effect 100%

im putting this note at the end but i think the final boss of hero's duty would be seargent calhoun. i think she would get eaten by the cybug queen after all the other soldiers are gone and then she herself goes down. i also think tthat in the 1 week of hero's duty being plugged in at litwak's in the movie no one has actually gotten to the final boss yet (difficult game yknow!!) so its not really known if calhoun would experience a memory leak issue or not.

the second wreck it ralph movie isnt real it aint happened (/silly, joke) so if it condradicts anything i ever say. no it doesnt actually. i make the rules.

[kikyan]

Yandere Diasomnia Headcanons

TW/CW: Dark content up ahead!! Yandere headcanons means yandere content y’all! Mentions of abuse and violent acts either towards the reader or the character!! Mental instability, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, obsession, emotional whiplash, etc. (Don’t think I’m missing anything but if I am, please do let me know!)  This is your TW please proceed with caution!!

ALSO FYI!! A minor spoiler warning, it’s during the last paragraph of Lilias Headcanons! It’s slightly mentioned in book 6 but emphasized in book 7!

DISCLAIMER: These are my interpretations of his/her/their persona and none of these is 100% accurate. I don't condone any of these actions in real life and all of this is purely fictional and should be taken as such! Underage characters will ONLY  be given SFW headcanons, please respect this decision!

As always, banner made by the lovely bestie @herestrish​ thank you for making all of these, you’re literally the best I love you so much! 

Malleus Draconia  

THIS IS MY DORM. THIS IS MY SHIT RIGHT HERE Y’ALL! I was and STILL am rooting for them!! Clearly, I have a bias and saved the BEST for last. Anyways, moving on! Malleus as a yandere is so popular because of how he’s literally pursuing the MC when TWST is not an otome game. Breaking the boundaries of the game fr. Not to mention, he’s so mysterious in the first chapters until you discover more and find out he’s quite sad :(( sorry babes </3. The main traits I see in him are possessive, clingy, obsessive, and overprotective. I will however start off with the main trait and the biggest thing that distinguishes him (book 7 spoilers really enhanced this headcanon), he wants a fairytale-like romance/story. 

Malleus is known as one of the (top 5 I wanna say?) wizards in the world of TWST. I’m sure his magic capabilities surpass his teachers so while he has no need to attend the school, I’m sure the main goal was to get him to socialize which he does with the MC. He wants to make friends, he wants to have a relationship with his fellow peers that isn’t the “strongest mage in NRC” or “future king of briar valley”. I honestly think he wants others to see him as Malleus Draconia (mostly Malleus because his last name has power), which will make sense with the rest of these headcanons. When it comes to Malleus, his relationship with his S/O is different than any relationship out there. Think about it, we got to call him Hornton/Tsunotarou because it was a name we picked for him because he did not want to reveal his name. I feel like he had the chance to speak with us because we’re not from this world. We don’t know the rules, the powerful families, and shit, we didn’t even know who Malleus was. Someone could say his name but it wouldn’t affect us because it holds no meaning. So when Malleus found out we didn’t know him, this was his way of testing the waters which I think is really cute. He wanted us to see him as himself, not as the all-powerful malleus and future king. 

He’s possessive with his S/O because you’re his friend(hopefully something more soon) and someone who saw him for himself. I think he cherished the nickname we gave him because it’s something from us to him. He’s possessive of us because we’re the only ones he has this important connection with. Sure he has one with Lilia and the others but with us it’s different. Leading me to a tiny headcanon I have that apparently isn’t that uncommon. Nice to know we think alike y’all! I feel like Lilia treated Malleus and Silver differently. I always saw it as Lilia feeling it was his duty to take care of Malleus as opposed to choosing to raise Silver. Malleus was probably raised as the future heir of briar valley, he probably had to attend many boring classes that prepared him for this role while Silver got the fun parent. I feel like Lilia raised Malleus with the intention of him growing to be a leader whereas he raised Silver with the intention of making Silver’s childhood the best it could be. Letting Silver be a child and then slowly bringing in the responsibilities, same with Sebek. So sorry for this analogy but I feel Lilia was the “daddy who was always working and never had time for me” with Malleus while it was different with Silver. Granted he didn’t treat Malleus with malicious intent, it was just that at a glance it was clear to see who got more of the ‘fun parent’. THIS IS ALL A HEADCANON BTW NOT CANON! These are just angsty times with Kikyan! So that being said, this is a very close and personal relationship that Malleus has with just you, so forgive him if he’s a little jealous. Malleus is well aware that it’s not right, but he can’t help but feel like this. He does what he can to prioritize your time, always being there in the evening for a nightly stroll. Sometimes, when he’s brave enough, he’ll try to plan something other than a nightly stroll. Maybe coming into your dorm and talking for a bit, maybe even inviting you to his? Maybe a small picnic at night because why not? Maybe a cup of tea? 

While that’s partly a reason why nobody approaches him (and a part that he dislikes), I can see him using his title as a way to intimidate others. When we called him by his nickname in book 5, everyone was stunned. I think Vil even accused him of taking advantage of our ignorance, but when we still called him by that name even when knowing who he really was, he “allowed” it. I already know he was kicking his feet, twirling his hair, and giggling when he left the stage. If you’re with him and standing by his side, nobody would dare approach you nor look at you differently. You have the protection of Malleus Draconia after all, who would even DARE approach? Even if he’s not physically there, his influence makes up for it. Everyone knows you hang out with him and honestly, nobody wants to take that risk. I don’t think you’d lose friends because he still wants you to have friends (maybe even open up his circle too?). However, if it’s just you two I think he could live. This goes in hand with his unique trait, the storybook romance. Think about it, it’s so romantic that even in his cursed world you will always have your lover by your side. Imagine it, just you and him in a castle all alone, just feeding off each other’s company. Who needs the others when it’s just you two? 

Obsessive and over-protective. I think they go hand in hand. Malleus would be a gentle lover, the one who wipes your tears away as he softly asks, “why do you weep my child of man” (crying, throwing up, and contemplating he sounds so pretty wtf and this is my writingDFJS). He thinks that you’re made of glass, a porcelain doll (don’t mind me I think I created possible fic ideas I’m carefully jotting all of these down) to be exact. If he looks away for even a second, you’d wither in the air. He’s so obsessed with you and so intrigued with what you do. You’re so lovely, you’re so unique and so precious. You came here from a foreign land and have no knowledge of him and his abilities. No knowledge of this world and its rules, yet suddenly you managed to rescue 6 over-blotted students and befriended so many people. Just how on earth did you do that? You don’t look at him with fear and I’m sure prior to knowing his real name if someone said “Malleus Draconia” you’d probably look confused. You probably wouldn’t have cared (I know I wouldn’t). You’re you, he’s probably head over heels for you. Absolutely smitten! He’s probably somewhere right now plucking flowers, “They love me, They don’t love me” and imagining what your reaction is. He’s probably the one keeping an eye on you, when he’s not busy he’s either taking your time or just nearby watching your peaceful life. Nobody will harm you, not while he’s alive and babes, he’s living for a LONG time. 

I added that he was clingy because I feel like he would be. He seeks out your attention and love, honestly, it’s so cute. The storybook romance, it’s unique. It’s something you two have and it’s something that keeps him going. He’s a gentle lover and if you give him attention, he turns to putty in your hands. He would change the time just to have your nightly strolls come faster. He really only has eyes for you, in Book 5 when Vil over blotted, he asked US what happened. He didn’t care for the others, he looked at us and asked us to explain the situation. His eyes are on us and only us. If he’s sad or annoyed, ask him what's wrong and if you place a hand on his or on his cheek to make him look up, it’s over bro. You’ve ignited a fire that cannot be contained. He’s the perfect partner, he listens to you, he does what he can to protect you, he puts YOU above him, and you’ll always have a place with him. HOWEVER, drumroll, please! Do NOT think for a second that he’s willing to let you treat him and this relationship with disrespect. He does not WANT to act out because he does want that fairytale romance, that attraction where you both are content with the other but if he’s pushed he will. I don’t want to say he’d hurt you because he doesn’t want to, but if you fight against this relationship he too will fight. Put your boxing gloves on because it’s about to get real. He’ll understand if you don’t quite accept it at first, but once he shows you the PowerPoint on why you two belong together and why he’s the better option and you’re still not getting it, he may be a bit upset. 

Wrapping off these headcanons, he’s a 9/10 on my danger scale and he’s a chain-turned saw on the rope-chain-saw scale. He’ll start off tame, he won’t take too many restrictions and he won’t say it like that. He’ll just say “that area is restricted because of construction or because they have so many dangerous magical items out in the open and it’s a huge risk! This is your room, he read that even when people are together they may need space away from each other (as much as he dislikes that) so you have that. Honestly, he’s super lenient right now that it seems like he doesn’t pose a threat but, keep in mind that he doesn’t like repeating himself. If he says that area is off limits and you’re wandering he’ll worry for your safety but then proceed to tell you off. “I did warn you that it was dangerous, I don’t like repeating myself. Perhaps I need to clip your wings to prevent you from wandering off, as much as I love that curious nature of yours. A joke, I assure you.” Babes. . .I don’t think it’s a joke anymore. Which is why I say chain-turned-saw. While he isn’t too strict on you and genuinely wants that romance between you two, he can turn strict to the point where you may find yourself with a broken limb or a cut-off one but it’s okay because he loves carrying you around! He’s the most powerful wizard (one of them at least) in the world and while he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s not above using that strength to get you to behave. He’s a 9/10 because as much as he loves you and wants those fanfic moments doesn’t mean he’s powerless and that you can get the jump on him. He gives you ONE warning and that’s it before he takes matters into his own hand. He’s been so patient with you, this is the thanks you give him? Fae live for a long time and if putting you to sleep is the only way he can do it, he will. After all, he’ll invade your sweet dreams and turn them into a nightmare if you choose. Another last measure would be branding, he once set Briar Valley ablaze but your skin is such a pretty canvas. 

Lilia Vanrouge 

Lilia, my beloved. The love of my life. I love him so much he’s so quirky and his aesthetic? To be honest, I hated neon green, like the highlighter colors. He changed that, the black and magenta is such a great combo. The green on their uniforms and their overall aesthetic. I love Diasomnia, I feel like I’m betraying Heartslabyul because I love Alice in Wonderland, but their styles never called out to me. Regardless, I am biased because I love him so much and I hope I can do justice to his character. The main characteristics that I see him having are manipulative, possessive, and overprotective. 

I was tempted to say that he was obsessive, but he and Rook share some qualities where they make it a game to find out about their S/O. He wouldn’t stalk you like prey but instead, he’d create a situation where you reveal that information about yourself to him. I do have plans for a Lilia fic (again bias) but without revealing too much information I’ll get into my personal headcanons of him. I truly think of Lilia fitting the troupe where he was emotionless at first, especially during the war but eventually toward the end came to appreciate life. Something happened to him during the war, that’s my biggest headcanon. It’s not something huge and over the top, but I think this is what caused him to have a change of perspective on life which will significantly change how he sees his S/O. 

He has a very quirky personality and he’s definitely unique. I love that about him! In order for this to connect, we need to talk a bit more about his personality. It’s very unique and he enjoys putting smiles on others’ faces. He gets along with the others for the most part and even teases them, especially when he hangs upside down (he's so cute omg I love him). I remember in his normal card Vignette, the one with Trey they were choosing a topic for their paper and Lilia was talking about magical pens and how they went through changes. As Lilia was explaining, Trey assumed it was a joke, and when he casually mentioned “I have the hardest time figuring out what's true and what isn't”, Lilia smiled and went “who knows”. He knows more than he’s letting on but then again, nobody believes him so that’s partially their fault too.  When Epel was getting bullied and Lilia saved him, his whole mannerism was that of someone who was trying to fit in with the ‘young folk’. He gave Epel advice on how to take care of himself and mentioned that in a fight, it’s about winning unlike in a sport where you have to adhere to the rules. He’s strange, but he truly means well. This leads me to connect Lilia and his overprotectiveness on his S/O. 

Lilia cares for his S/O. Though he doesn’t seem like much, he packs quite the punch that may soon come to understand if they try to take something that’s his. Possessiveness comes into play as well! If someone ever tried to hurt his S/O, they better start preparing their funeral arrangements because it won’t end well. Underestimating Lilia is what leads to their downfall and honestly, these headcanons would sound smoother if I just led with his unique trait. I want to say he mirrors Rook where he will never trust his S/O, but it’s the opposite. It’s US who CAN’T trust him. Well, we can, but we can’t take anything he says without a grain of salt. You may think Lilia is petite and a cute harmless guy, but then suddenly he’s handing out ass-whoopings left and right. You may think Lilia is joking, but his devilish grin might be one of malice as opposed to humor. Again, he cares a lot for you but he’s not above scolding you and treating you like a child, which should get on your nerves. Nobody but him is allowed to tease you but him! 

Your safety is his priority, without a doubt. You mean the world to him so again, nobody will mess with you. His possessiveness is something that’s brought by his teasing nature. He may refer to you as ‘his’ and may do it in a teasing nature. He’ll do anything to get a reaction out of you, maybe even call you by some cringe-ass name. “So how’s my little snuggly wuggly piggly wiggly baby pie”. “Lilia, don’t ever call me that please”. Overly cutesy names to tease the fuck out of you. Though it’s embarrassing, he means well. He also prioritizes your time by filling up your schedule, suddenly you’re at the dorm playing online games with him and Idia (though they don’t know that which lowkey stresses me tf out). You’re trying out another dish he makes because Silver and Sebek are beyond horrified to try something else. He’s inviting you to the music club to listen to them play and to give them advice. He might even ask you to help him dye his hair. His relationship with you is so wholesome that it’s almost hard to believe he was once a war general and can scare the shit out of many. 

I want to touch on his manipulative side, it’s because of the lack of trust. You think it’s silly old Lilia (emphasis on old) playing games on you. Maybe one day when you promised to hang out with him you had to stay behind for an assignment. Apologizing and here he is, “Oh well, it can’t be helped! Don’t want you to fail now do we?” Thanking him for understanding, you turn to leave only to miss out on his eyes lowering, half-lidded before smiling. That devilish grin that you can’t forget and you can’t read. You can’t read him and that comes to be your downfall. He has the element of surprise, to the point where you’d start being on edge with him (like the leech twins). He may pop out and scare you or he maybe pushes you only to cause you to tumble. He certainly underestimated his strength, are you okay? Spoiler alert, it wasn’t an accident. If you start to ignore him, he’ll get aggressive. Scaring you, causing you to fall, your books to fall to the floor, spilling drinks, etc. He’s so silly and clumsy, must be the age huh? It only gets worse when you confront him, “Hey Lilia, did I do something to make you upset?” 

Eyes wide, “Why ever would you say that?” He’s surprised, what brought this on? Of course, he knows, he’s not stupid. He listens to you explain, eyes full of worry, reassuring you that it was only a joke and he never wished for you to feel like that! You believe him because when he looks at you like that he must be telling the truth! This is how it is at first until you start to realize that maybe he’s hiding something else. It gets even worse when his yandere traits start to come through. You could be crying and questioning why, why you? Why does he love you and why does he do what he does? That gentle look, those beautiful eyes are softened and he answers in pure confusion, do what? He acts surprised, are you sure you have the right guy? That doesn’t seem like Lilia does it? Oh well, the cat is out of the bag and while he had fun playing around with you, guess it’s time he gets serious (book 2 serious). His devilish grin is back and instead of it being of a playful nature, he’s hiding some ill intent toward you. His smile that usually would bring one to your face strikes fear, is this all a game to him? When he warns you of the consequences of defying him or escaping, he still has the grin on his face and that friendly tone, but the words he says are a bit frightening. Is he joking with you? Is it worth the risk? Like Rook, you never know if he’s telling the truth so should you risk it? Is it beneficial to stay put as he says and not fight him? Just like Rook, it’s about the thrill of your actions. He sits back and enjoys your reactions and how you handle the little tests he gives you. 

His character is hard, I hope you know I struggled for a GOOD while when writing this despite how much I love him. As far as the scaling goes, he’s a 10/10 (dare I say 11?). He has the magic to back it up (well had is more like it) and he’s open to change. Darwin once said that a species' chances of survival are not determined based on strength but rather their ability to adapt. This is Lilia, he’s strong but given the situation, he can adapt to the circumstances. His sweet words are laced with poison and spread doubt inside your mind. He could say the next time you decide to flee it’s off with your legs, but he does his adorable huff, “I don’t think I need to worry about that though, you’re so well-behaved right now.” He seems to be serious, but the last time he threatened that he didn’t do it, so was it a fear tactic? Do you want to risk it? If you do and get caught, I see him approaching you with a hum, a smile on his face as he stares at your pitiful form, apologizing and struggling to speak. He shushes you as if you are a child. Softly petting your hair, giving you false hope that you can talk your way out of this. His hands softly trail to your ankle, you’re panicking but he continues his antics. You know well then to underestimate him, no? I can see Lilia being all three, rope because at some point he does enjoy the taste and thrill. The hunter being hunted is a delicious trope. He could be chain, he’d scold you like a child and take away your favorite toy until you think about what you’ve done. He could be saw, he could be tired of your futile running and while he’s been so nice and caring you’ve really pushed his buttons and if he needs to take away your freedom he’ll do it. Do you want to see someone other than him? Too bad, you have no one to blame but yourself. 

Sebek Zigbolt 

I’ll be honest, I didn’t like Sebek at first and I lowkey still am not a huge fan, but I still love him. Let’s start at the very beginning, Sebek struggles with some identity issues. He’s very prideful of his fae side, despite being half-human. When I read how much he idolizes his mother but not his father, shit lowkey brought me to tears. I don’t know if his other siblings feel the same way, but his father tries his hardest and he’s a good father, loving, caring, doting, and always makes time for them. I truly believe that Sebek grew up around people shaming his parents, specifically his father and he fell into that hole as well. As a yandere, his traits would be that of overprotective, possessive, and manipulative. 

Continuing, Sebek hates humans despite being half one himself. He’s very prideful when it comes to that fae part of him. I know he talks down to them and makes it seem like he’s superior to them because he’s a fae, but deep down he probably knows better than anyone that he’s not all that. I want to curse the people who made him feel like that, they’re nothing but a bunch of gossiping hoes. If his S/O were a human, he would probably have a hard time accepting that. He’d probably hate himself for liking them. As an overprotective yandere, he’d care for his S/O. If you’re a human, everybody knows how fragile you guys are so expect him to do everything but not without belittling you. “You humans are so forgetful, fine I’ll help you find what you need! Just know I’m wasting precious time I could be used to get stronger to protect Malleus, wait don’t go!” He would probably tell you everything he could be doing instead of being here with you, but he dreads the idea of you leaving him. I think Sebek would see his S/O as a stress relief, but not in that way. He’d be like Malleus who thinks you’re the only one who can understand him to some extent but don’t expect any special treatment. He’s very contradicting, “A human like you wouldn’t understand what I mean! W-wait, but what were you saying?” 

You’re so fragile, try not to double down and break! You’re only holding him back from his true potential, but don’t think about leaving! He needs to show you how amazing he is! The type who would see you get picked on and save you from them only to say, “who wouldn’t pick on you? I mean look at you! W-wait! Typical humans, won’t thank someone who saved them!” Honestly, if you see him coming your way just turn your ass around. Save yourself the emotional whiplash. This is where his ‘manipulation’ side comes out, he’ll try to get you to depend on him to boost his ego, only to realize you want nothing to do with him. Sure, you’re thankful that he’s there to help but if he’s just going to berate you for being yourself then what's the point? He’ll show signs of weakness that get you to think that he needs you but then proceeds to act the same. It’s not worth it in the long run but if Sebek is struggling, then we should help. Going back to him seeing you as someone who can understand him, this goes hand in hand. At times yes, you understand what Sebek is going through. The need to be the best and somehow stand out, the feeling that he needs to make up for what lacks, that being his other fae side. 

Trying to get him to understand that it’s all an external factor that is making him feel that way isn’t helping. He’d shout and say that you nothing, so no point in helping someone who doesn’t want to help. Regardless, he does try to help you or at the very least love you in some twisted way. He cares for you because despite not liking humans, he’ll give credit where credit is due. He thinks you’re very strong but also very stupid. You managed to handle over 5 over-blots which is impressive but the fact that you’re always smack in the middle of them, how reckless! Soon you’ll get the title of “his human”, doesn’t that sound great? Silver would be confused and Lilia would be somewhat content that Sebek is changing for the better! Malleus would probably be content knowing that Sebek isn’t always there and is finally directing his energy somewhere else. While he has the support of his dorm, Sebek would constantly deny his feelings. He does love you, but he hates that he loves you. He tells you he hates you, that you’re going to hold him back, that you’re not worthy but at the same time he can’t stand the idea of you spending time with anyone else. 

While his possessiveness isn’t like the others, he tries to make it like a training regiment. He’d push his S/O to be better, to be the better version of themselves. While he loves you, he wants to be proud of the person he’s next to, again emotional whiplash. He’d explain how he’s doing this because you need it! He’ll take over your time and try to mold you into someone whose traits stand out more than their human side. You’re his responsibility and under his care, so he’ll take care of you to the extent of educating you. I think he would isolate you from your friends, after all, they’re a bunch of good-for-nothings who aren’t fit to protect Malleus. So this is what it’s really been about, it’s never been about what Sebek likes but rather being someone who Malleus could approve of. Sebek would not understand you, he’d call you silly humans for harboring such feelings and how you’re so complicated, it’s annoying. Your feelings are so strange, you should be glad that Malleus approves of you. All his hard work is finally paying off! 

As far as danger level, he’s a 5/10. He’s not a danger to you at the start, he’s really just annoying. Sebek has some things that he needs to work on but they’re not something he can do on his own. This is why he needs you and as much as you hate the idea or could care less, there is someone about him that guides you to him (or Lilia and Malleus causally threatening you). He could care less about you (or so he says) but as much as he says that, he cares for you deeply to some extent. You’re his support and he doesn’t want you to leave him, to add insult to injury he’s probably delusional and created this friendship/rift with you. On the rope-chain-saw scale, he’d be a chain leaning to saw. It’s not his restrictions but his training regiment on making you a better person that keeps you trapped. He’s basically in control of your life, dictating what’s the best course of action to mold you into someone others can be proud of. Let’s be honest, it was never what he wanted because if it was, you’d be perfect the way you are. It’s about the social pressure of others and maybe something he created that makes him strive harder to shape you into a pretty gem that he can show off to others. Towards the end, he becomes more aggressive because what is the point of this futile fighting? You’ve come so far, now you’re just throwing it all away? At first, he was strict but a bit lenient, you’re a human so, of course, your capabilities are limited. After a while, he’s frustrated. Like when you’re teaching someone and after 30 minutes of them not getting it, you’re frustrated and ready to give up. He’d insult you, yell at you, and he may hurt you. It’s for your own good he reminds you, it’s your fault he’s doing this. He’d get stricter if you’re not getting it through your skull and start taking away your freedom little by little. I don’t want to say it’s like a doll that he gets to dress us because he’s a bit more aggressive, but it’s like a soldier and his general. He leads, and you follow. You don’t question him because he’s doing this for you. 

Silver (no last name :( ) 

My adoptive son, my boy! So I’m going to go ahead and say it, he’s not meant to be a yandere. Like the theory that he’s supposed to be in RSA and that he’s a hero as opposed to a villain? Yeah, I believe it. For that reason, he’s hard to see as a yandere (ironic because I can see Neige as one and possibly Chenya but not him) and if he does ever show traits like that, it’s because he has Lilia and Malleus to push him to that. One thing I didn’t mention at the start, is that Diamonia see each other like family, that being said this is one dorm (like Pomefiore) that stick together and actually encourage their yandere behavior. His main traits would be overprotectiveness, manipulative, and possessive. 

Starting off strong, I don’t see him as a yandere, in fact, he’s the only sane mf up in this dorm! He would never hurt you nor would he ever want to. If anything, he’ll save you from danger and care for you. Even if he wasn’t a yandere, he’d still be overprotective of his S/O. He’d be a sweet lover, he’d walk you to and from class and would ask special permission from Malleus to be able to leave his side for a little bit. Sebek might yell at him and call him irresponsible, but Malleus is intrigued so he allows it. Lilia is ecstatic! They really do grow up so fast, he remembers seeing Silver as a young boy and now he’s all grown up, even ready to date someone! Not to mention, he feels comfortable sleeping around you. He would use your lap as a pillow, sleeping peacefully as he has sweet dreams of you and him. It’s such a peaceful life. He’d help you study any subjects, telling you stories of his past and his life, and he’d even invite you to Diasomnia to meet his family. What could go wrong? 

Well, it’s under the influence of his family where it goes wrong. Maybe, just maybe you and Silver aren’t together just yet, he was a bit shy. Did someone else start to put the moves on you? They started to ask you out, and take up your time and the time you spent with Silver begins to diminish. Little by little, eventually Silver begins to accept that this is fate. If this made you happy, he’d protect you from the shadows and would let you be happy. Only thing is, Lilia didn’t let that slide. What do you mean you aren’t in love with Silver? Oh, that won’t do! After all, if you love each other why would you ever want to leave? Silver is another person who wants that storybook romance, he’d be such a gentle and caring lover, but Lilia and Malleus are the poison that taints him. His father would never be wrong and even Malleus is agreeing, so there must be something Silver isn’t seeing. He’d start to be a bit more assertive, offering to walk you to class again and spending time with you. He’ll steal you back from the others who took you away in the first place. Soon, you’ll start expecting Silver and patiently waiting for him. 

Just like how he cares and wishes to protect Malleus, he’ll hold you in the same regard. You’re special, you mean the world to him. As his father says, you’re the sun that greets his day! So don’t be surprised when he suddenly starts showing up to everything. Silver would never see you as something to own, sure you’re “his crush” but aside from that, it would be immoral to claim you as if you were a prize. Lilia seems to think differently, I mean you’re practically together no? If Silver truly does love you, then surely he would fight for you no? Lilia would remind him that if he lets you go, someone will take him. If he seems weak, who is to say someone won’t come and steal you, much less hurt you to get to him? He needs to be on that ASAP! Though Silver doesn’t want to keep you on a leash like that, it’s hard to go against his father’s and future king's advice. Surely they speak from experience. Silver would start small, continuing to take up your time without it interfering with his club or other duties. When someone notices that you’ve been spending time with him, they’d ask if you’re together or not. Before you have the chance to say anything, Silver is beating you to it and answers, “yes we are.” He’s a bit of an air-head at times so maybe he’s not aware of what that means. Aside from taking up your time as his, he wouldn’t do or say anything too drastic unless pushed towards it. 

Unlike the rest of Diasomnia, Silver has morals. Unlike Malleus or Briar Valley which happens to be a dark and foreboding place, Silver is different. He was raised under Lilia’s influence but I’m sure that he also wants to cultivate his own path, which is why I say he’s not a yandere of his own free will. He wants to protect you, he wants to love you, but he’ll also respect you and your decisions. Lilia on the other hand will push and brainwash Silver to believe it HAS to be him. Silver is training to be a knight for Malleus, but he can be a knight for you as well! It has to be Silver, nobody else will treat you the same. Lilia is no fool and can see that Silver is fighting his inner demons so he redirects his doubts. Sure, Silver doesn’t want to claim you nor force you, so he won’t. Instead, Lilia convinces him that nobody else but him is suited to take care of you. He’s already a knight in training but he’s been around you for so long, there is no one better. He starts to tell Silver that it has to be him, nobody else. Maybe even exaggerate and say, “not even I could be suited to take care of them, Silver don’t you see? You’re their knight.” Silver would see it like that, the relationship switching to that of knight and royalty.

His love would be suffocating. You’re wrapped around his arms and he’s not letting go, “You’re safe with me my love.” There could be no real danger, but he somehow believed that if there ever was, he was the only one qualified to protect you. You two have a bond unlike any other, you trust him so much and he’s not willing to break it. I don’t want to say he’s manipulative, but he can guilt-trip you. He knows he’s not perfect, his narcolepsy sometimes holds him back and while they tried to cure him, it just wasn't enough. He’s here to repay a debt, the debt he somehow thinks he owes to Lilia and Malleus for raising him. He doesn’t mean harm, I mean he’s such a kind soul. He cares for his father and Malleus, no doubt he means well. Then again, has Silver ever once hurt you? He probably doesn’t even know he’s guilt-tripping you, he just assumes he’s confining in a trusted friend who happens to be so nice. I can see an instance where you’ve had enough, telling Silver that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to be hovering over you. There’s no danger and nobody is out to get you, but he so stubbornly scolds you saying that the moment you lower your guard they’re there. He’s here so you can lower it, if you were someone of royalty, he’d become the very castle walls that protect you. You don’t need to fear, he’s here. 

He’s a 3/10 on the danger scale, the only thing he’d be is suffocating by how much he hovers over you. He doesn’t mean to, want to, or plans to hurt you. Any and everything he does is for your safety (or so he believes). If he ever believed that your reckless behavior posed a threat, he would probably keep you locked in a room or chained. He constantly reminds you, “it’s for your safety, please understand”. So he gets some points because he can be unpredictable, but the bottom line is he does it out of love and the need to protect. Not as a selfish desire, yet. He’s a rope on the rope-chain-saw scale because he’s not one to take away restrictions and make you feel like you have to earn them. He’d only ever resort to those methods if he felt like you were a danger to yourself, because of this you could probably get the drop on Silver but his dad and future king are right there ready to alert him. You managed to get Silver out of the room while you plan your escape through the window, but there Lilia is, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’d be hurting Silver’s feelings after he went through the trouble of caring for you. Not to mention, you wouldn’t get that far.” Over time, he would start to be more alert and you won’t be able to get the drop on him, sure his a bit of an air-head but you can’t fool him twice. In the end, your safety and protection matter the most and I see Silver being the person who starts to see what Lilia means. You’re safer tucked away in a tower than so be it. If you must suffer the same fate he does and sleep, so be it. It was never about keeping you, it was about protecting you.

[davenporttf]

Emascatine

Yo, what's up? My names Phil and I'm the quarterback for Boston College. Go Eagles! I love the sport and I'm stoked I get to play QB.

I gotta be honest with you though, I've been having a slump lately out on the field. I haven't been at the top of my game. I've been working out every day but no matter how much training I put in, I'm getting sacked left and right.

I stopped by a local vitamin shop to switch up my preworkout. I don't think this whey stuff is really giving me the boost I need, ya know? The guy at the shop seemed like he was into me. I caught him multiple times checking me out as I was walking up and down the aisles. Not that I care really, a compliment is a compliment but dude could be less obvious about it. He eventually took a break from creepin to ask me what I was looking for in particular.

I explained how I wanted to switch up my preworkout, and he said he had just the thing. It was this black generic bottle with the brand name "Hit Fit." The slogan underneath it said "It'll hit you the first time guaranteed!" I didn't recognize the brand so I looked at the active ingredient, Emascatine. I've never heard of it either but the guy at the shop said it was a new type of drug only sold through his shop.

I was weary of trying the brand but the prospect of fast results was exactly what I needed right now. I caved and decided if I didn't see any results, I'd return it later.

I stopped home and whipped up the preworkout shake and threw it in my bag along with the bottle in case one of the teammates needed some. I made it to the locker room just in time, and setup in front my locker. I took out my preworkout and took my first sip. It tasted like fruit loops which was a nice changeup from my last powder that tasted like crap. I took more sips and really liked the taste so I started to down it.

"So tasty!" my voice cracked as I said it. "You good Phil?" asked my teammate, Drew.

"I'm good, sweetie!" The words just left my mouth without a thought. My voice had raised several octaves and my face was as red as ever realizing what I said. Drew looked at me in amusement. "haha okay, babe" thinking it was a joke.

I refocus on getting dressed, and pulled on my compression pants over my jock. My skin felt so sensitive in the moment. The tightness of the pants felt so good on my legs. I rubbed my legs up and down feeling the spandex material stretch. I was getting aroused by watching my quads flex in them. My eyes were closed sitting on the bench while I rubbed my inner thighs. An inaudible moan came from my mouth as I felt my dick hardened.

What was happening to me?! I look over the Hit Fit bottle and notice a tiny disclaimer at the bottom. "Emascatine may cause side effects of heightened sensitivity, mood changes, sexual stimulation, and emasculation."

I snapped out of it long enough to feel my ass stretch the tights even further. My center of gravity shifted as my ass grew into a firm bubble butt. I tried to walk around but felt an itch coming from deep inside my ass. I braced myself with hands on the wall squirming to hopefully scratch the itch. I don't know why it felt so right in the moment but I started to shake my ass faster and faster side to side as if it were on display for my teammates.

Drew had taken notice, yelling over "Yo, Phil. What has gotten into you?!" They watched as I continued moving my ass in their direction. My teammates' demeanor changed the longer they watched. I could see their faces going from confusion to slight interest to lustful. My ass was hypnotizing and they could have stood there all day staring into it's fluid motion.

I loved the look on their faces and called over to them "Hey boysss! You like what you see?"

Drew smiled, "Damn, Phil. Why don't you come over here and we can do some team bonding?"

I thought he'd never ask. I let them line up as I got in position.

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

Epilogue:

Coach says I need to take a step back from QB. Something about my performance not being up to snuff. I've been told I'd make a better water boy. I've really enjoyed it so far. I keep my boys hydrated as they take turns slamming my P-spot. Team morale has never been higher.

[nametakensff]

Mistletoe Mishap (S/teddie)

Ignore the cheesy title and enjoy 4.4k of mutual fetish AU S/teddie smut lol

S/teve and E/ddie are decorating the H/arrington household in preparation for a Christmas party when E/ddie has a ~mysterious~ allergy attack

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship (four years deep), both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, allergy sneezing, handjobs, spray, a little tiny mention of mess, descriptions of a pretty intense allergic reaction, sneezing on someone's face, sneezing on someone's neck, teasing, nose rubbing

CW: graphic descriptions of cum, E/ddie is a particularly demanding tease in this one

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“You know, I don’t understand why they don’t sell the place. Or just give it to you.” Eddie stated, pushing the front door to the Harrington residence closed behind him. “It’s not like they’re ever here. Seems like a waste of prime real estate.”

Steve shrugged, setting the last of the cardboard boxes they’d brought with them on the floor and crouching down over it.

“I’ve long given up on trying to understand my parents, Eds. Doesn’t matter, right? Comes in handy at times like this.”

He ripped the tape off the box and opened it wide, smiling as Eddie’s curls brushed the side of his face, the older man leaning precariously over his shoulder.

“You didn’t need to buy so many new decorations, hon. It’s just the kids. They don’t care.”

“Hmm.” Steve ran his hand over the assortment of tinsel, baubles and other Christmassy items, pleased to see they were completely intact even after he and Eddie had dropped this box in the parking lot earlier.

“Maybe they don’t care, but I do. It’s their last Christmas in high school, Munson. I want it to be nice for them. It might even be the last Christmas all of them spend together. They’ll go to college – they’re smart kids – and they might not even come back for the holidays.”

Even as he said it, Steve’s heart gave an unpleasant little flutter of what he supposed was preemptive grief. After everything they’d been through in this insane town – all the life and death situations they’d managed to pull through - these kids meant the world to him. They were eighteen years old – well, some of them – and he could hardly believe how much they’d grown before his eyes. He had been content living with Eddie in their small apartment and going about their everyday life in Hawkins, but change was in the air. Not only were the kids about 6 or so months away from graduation, he and Eddie had been discussing their own potential move. It should be exciting, and for the most part it was, but he was also a little terrified.

He felt Eddie’s hand squeezing his shoulder gently, turned his head to look up into his boyfriend’s face. He knew that look well, one of total fondness and adoration, and found himself smiling back up at him.

“Okay, Stevie. Let’s make it extra pretty for ‘em, huh?” He straightened up and made his way round Steve to open another box. “All I meant was they’ll be happy no matter what you do. The fuckers love you, man.”

Steve smiled again, feeling a little too sensitive and knowing if he said anything at all his voice would be thick with emotion. He nodded and took a second for the lump in his throat to recede before starting up into a series of instructions for their decoration game plan.

~~~~~~

“Okay.” Steve stood with his hands on his hips, feeling exhilarated as he glanced round at their handiwork. Despite how long it had taken them - mostly because of Eddie and his absolute inability to focus on the task at hand without either teasing Steve, fighting Steve or holding various decorations in front of his crotch and pretending they were his penis - it had turned out just great. In Steve’s opinion, it had been worth breaking the bank a little for the pomp and circumstance of it all.

“Looks great, baby.” He was grinning, the satisfaction of a job well done leaving him proud and happy.

“Fucking finally.” Eddie grumbled from his position on the hallway carpet, sprawled out on his back like a recalcitrant starfish.

Steve smirked at him before climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, planting his hands at the side of the older man’s head, careful to avoid the trailing brown curls that spread haphazardly around them.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Eddie deadpanned, but Steve felt him reach up to grip his waist gently.

“I am.” Steve admitted before pressing several small kisses over Eddie’s cheeks, eyebrows, nose. He was delighted to hear his boyfriend giggle sweetly in response. It was so fucking cute that Steve had to kiss him immediately, and Eddie, a sucker for him as always, elevated the kiss from soft and tender to deep and nasty in mere seconds.

After several more minutes of moaning and groping on the hallway floor, Steve figured they may as well be celebrating their successful decoration efforts in the comfort of an actual bed. He pulled back from the kiss, laughing as Eddie followed him as far as he could from his prone position before flopping back down.

“You better tell me the only reason you’re stopping is to haul my ass up to your bedroom, pretty boy.” Breathless and giddy, he massaged Steve’s ass with his wandering hands.

“Read my mind, baby. Let’s go.” Steve stood and pulled Eddie up alongside him with a strong arm. The metalhead flounced past him, already halfway up the stairs when Steve noticed one final box, unopened and forgotten towards the end of the hall. They must have missed that one in the maelstrom of hanging and pinning and arranging that had followed.

“Eddie, wait.” Steve started, pacing towards the box.

“What, what now?” Eddie groaned, turning around on the steps to peer down at Steve. His erection continued to stubbornly strain against the fabric of his worn black jeans.

“We missed a box.” Steve said, picked it up when he found it to be somewhat lighter than the others, and held it up towards Eddie.

“Are you serious, Steve?? It’s been hours, we’ve already worked like Santa’s god damn elves on cocaine and the house looks like Christmas vomited all over it – just put the damn thing down and let me suck your cock already!”

Steve, frankly, found the whole diatribe incredibly amusing – the only thing more amusing than Eddie’s rant was the look of utter indignation on his face when Steve outright laughed at him.

“Ooh, you piss me off.” Eddie stomped his way down the stairs, strode up to his still-laughing boyfriend and yanked the box from his hands. “If we finish with this last little box, can we go upstairs and fuck each other’s brains out for the remainder of this fine December evening?”

“Sure.” Steve smirked, enjoying his boyfriend’s sexual frustration and trademark impatience immensely.

With that confirmed, Eddie redoubled his efforts, practically tearing at the box as he crouched haphazardly beside it. Ripping it open, he paused for a second, tilting his head like a curious puppy as he took in the contents.

“Leaves…?”

Steve’s brows furrowed; he leaned forward, following his boyfriend’s gaze downwards. Suddenly, it clicked.

“Mistletoe.” He snapped a forefinger and thumb together. “Sorry hon, I totally forgot. Won’t take us long to hang a couple of these up.”

“Huh. Do you really need this much of it for the children, though? Are we advocating for teen pregnancy in this household?” Eddie joked, dangling a sprig dramatically over the two of them. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Please. Being members of Hellfire is contraception enough.”

“Wow. Fuck you, I guess?”

Steve chuckled, snatched the sprig from Eddie and held it above them as the metalhead had just moments before. He slipped one strong arm around Eddie’s slim waist and pulled him closer, until their fronts were flush.

“Sorry, baby. Kiss and make up?”

Any faux offense on Eddie’s part was quickly diminished as the older man smiled and leaned into Steve’s embrace. All too quickly his hands were roaming over Steve’s body, squeezing his ass, dragging his nails down Steve’s back hard enough he could feel it through the cotton of his polo shirt. They both moaned into the kiss, all tongues and heavy breathing, and for a moment Steve lost himself in it.

It didn’t last long, however. Steve felt his boyfriend tense, standing rigid in his embrace. He barely had a second of recognition at the sharp inhale Eddie took in through his nose before the metalhead was pulling away just a moment too late, catching Steve’s jaw with the light aerosol of his first sneeze. The older man choked out a breathy apology before sucking in another inhale and proceeding to sneeze fittishly against the column of Steve’s throat, trembling and gripping the fabric of his shirt as though holding on for dear life.

“Hh-HH’ENGXT’Tchieww!! NDd’tshieww!! ‘Tshieww!! Ihkg’tchieww!! HAH!! DDZZSCH’Uuuu!! Ohh…”

Steve felt his entire body blooming with heat at the arousal that pulsed through him. He never tired of this, felt just as overwhelmed and ruined by every sneeze that graced his heated skin as he ever had. He held Eddie upright as he shuddered, stroking one broad hand down the expanse of his back as best he could whilst still clutching the mistletoe between thumb and forefinger. He kissed into Eddie’s curls and willed his hips not to buck against the thigh his boyfriend had slid between his own.

“God bless you, sweetheart.”

Eddie pulled back, sniffly and watery-eyed, offering Steve a sheepish, crooked smile as he shook a few stray hairs back from his face.

“Whew, sorry, Stevie. That came out of nowhere.” He snuffled a little louder, and Steve was transfixed at the wonderful flare of those oh-so expressive nostrils as he did so. Eddie swiped gently at the dampened skin of Steve’s throat with the cuff of one long sleeve. “Had a tickle.”

Steve moaned softly, smiled at the pleased grin that whimper of arousal pulled out of Eddie.

“You okay, Eds?” He asked, still stroking Eddie’s back softly.

“I’m just dandy, honey. Great, actually. That felt fucking incredible.” He punctuated the statement with another sniffle, even more liquid sounding than the others, and pressed a soft kiss against the side of Steve’s mouth.

Whether he was embellishing the experience for Steve’s benefit or whether those sneezes really had gotten him worked up – either way, Steve could feel the older man’s erection, harder than before and digging into his hip. He groaned, gripping Eddie’s shoulder with one hand and using the other to cup his ass, forcing their hips together and grinding against Eddie’s thigh, inviting his boyfriend to do the same.  

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He muttered against Eddie’s plush lips before capturing them in another intense kiss.

It was much of the same for a bit – grinding and gasping and moaning and kissing, gripping each other with desperate, wandering hands. Steve replayed the sound of every tickly little sneeze Eddie had graced him with minutes earlier, the sensation of the spray as it arced across his neck. He hadn’t been exaggerating; he really did feel like he was going to die when they worked together like this, like the emotions and the sensations were simply too much for his body to handle and he would shatter into a million pieces. He loved every second of it.

Eddie tensed again, just as before, but this time Steve was ready for it. He groaned into his boyfriend’s mouth, rolled his hips against him, squeezed his ass for all he was worth. The metalhead pulled back with one final frantic breath sucked in through twitching, flaring nostrils, fingers scrabbling to find purchase on Steve’s back, and sneezed violently between them.

“H’ohh goddDDDISSSSHH’IEwww!! hHDT’TISShhuuu!! IGXShhh!! HIG’TCHIeww!! Hh-HH-!”

He seemed to pause for a moment, and Steve would have perhaps mistaken this for the end of his fit had he not the perfect view of his crumpled expression – eyes overflowing with irritated tears, nostrils flared to capacity, tongue pressing firmly against his bottom lip as his jaw hung open. He was a picturesque portrait of ticklish misery, and Steve wanted a better view. He released his grip on Eddie’s ass to instead replace that hand in a firm but gentle grip on the older man’s chin, tenderly tilting back his head from his slightly ducked position so that he was facing Steve directly. Eddie didn’t protest, allowed Steve to do as he would, seemingly more preoccupied with allowing the tickle to crest inside his aggravated nose. It looked like such a tease; the naked look of desperation on his face was driving Steve wild.

What was maybe a few seconds felt like an eternity as Steve wished he could freeze them in this painfully erotic moment forever – Eddie, held right on the precipice of a sneeze and Steve ready and waiting to receive it. One final, dramatic tick of his nostrils, however, and Eddie finally reached his peak, rocking forward against Steve as it overpowered him.

“AEGGKKk’KSHIEWWwww!! eEHDT’TCHIewww!! HEH’TCHIEWWWw!! ‘TSCHH’Iieww! Hh…”

Steve’s eyes closed reflexively with every sneeze that burst across his face, cock throbbing and pulsing in his jeans as he took in the rich vocal sound of them, the desperate, almost pained expression on his boyfriend’s face, the feeling of his trembling against him. Yeah, he was never, ever getting tired of this.

“Hholy shit…” Eddie muttered, sounding utterly drained. Steve didn’t blame him; the sneezes, whilst not as large as his own, had sounded incredibly intense. Eddie sagged weakly against him, the weight of his head heavy against Steve’s hand. The younger man released his chin from the grip and swiped a thumb under his boyfriend’s dripping nose, finally pinching a little string of mess away from his septum before wiping it subtly away on his own jean-clad thigh. With slightly less subtlety he raised the collar of his shirt to quickly wipe his face clean.

“Bless you, baby. My god.” Steve laughed breathily, elated and giddy and absolutely overflowing with adoration. “You doing okay? Those were some serious sneezes.”

“Yeah. God. They really didn’t fuck around, huh?” Eddie sniffled, releasing the death grip he was maintaining on the back of Steve’s shirt to lift a crooked finger to rub at his tickly nostrils, quickly switching to all but mashing his nose back and forth with his palm when the gentle rubbing did nothing to alleviate the itch. He used the knuckle of the same hand to scrub at his eyes, which Steve noticed were looking suddenly all too pink. He frowned a little, pulling Eddie’s hand away by the wrist, ignoring the gentle whine of protest.

“Itches.” Eddie muttered, blinking as another pair of tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I know. I think you’re having an allergic reaction, Munson. And a fast one, at that.”

“Yeah, I am. Shit.” He sniffled again, twitching his pink nostrils, and Steve had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand and not the fact that he could feel his heartbeat in his dick.

“Any idea what might have triggered it? You poor thing…” Steve murmured, hoping he sounded as empathetic as he was ragingly horny.

“Ugh. Maybe dust from the carpet? I was down there for a little while, I guess.”

Steve frowned.

“But you’re not normally this irritated that fast? Unless it’s, like, a lot of dust?”

Eddie shrugged, squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his nose frantically again, a series of wet clicking noises sounding out as he did so.

“I don’t know, man. Fuck, I’m so itchy,” He whined, using the heel of his palm to press up against a leaky eye, ignoring Steve’s attempts to swat it away.

Steve glanced around the room, looking for anything that might be the culprit. No flowers that weren’t fake, no cleaning products left out in the open; the house was maybe a little dusty, granted it had been unoccupied for months at this point, but his parents still paid for a maid to semi-regularly come and maintain it, so it wouldn’t be enough to make Eddie this allergic. At a loss, he turned his head back to his boyfriend and opened his mouth to offer some sympathetic encouragement or other before he froze in his tracks.

He was resting one hand on Eddie’s shoulder – the same hand that still clutched a sprig of fresh mistletoe.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever been around mistletoe before?”

“Sure? Kids used to hang that shit all over school around Christmas.”

“But that stuff was plastic, no?”

“Well, yeah, but…?”

“Eddie.”

“Mm?”

“I think you’re allergic to mistletoe. Real mistletoe.”

“…Oh. Ohhhh.” Recognition dawned on Eddie’s face, and Steve nodded back at him as they locked eyes.

“You only started to sneeze once we opened that box. I got it at the store when you were grabbing an extra box of fairy lights for me.”

“Well, shit.” Eddie giggled, even as mashed his nose against his palm again. Steve lowered the hand holding the sprig to his side.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, really meaning it and feeling horribly guilty for taking such enjoyment in what looked like a pretty intense allergic reaction.

“C’mon, Stevie, no sorries. We don’t even know it’s that stuff for sure – s’probably still just the dust. Delayed reaction, or something.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow at that. Telling himself it was merely a matter of necessary experimentation and not because his cock was drooling in his pants at the thought of a repeat performance, he lifted the sprig up and held it directly under his boyfriend’s nose. Despite so confidently reassuring Steve the mistletoe was of no concern, the metalhead jerked his head back slightly at the sudden proximity of the offending plant.

“Sorry, sorry – just, sniff this for me? I want to be sure.” Steve tried gently, handling his boyfriend as one might attempt to soothe a skittish horse.

Eddie, stubborn as ever, rolled his eyes.

“I’m telling you, Harrington, even if it made me sneeze a little, that’s hardly a big deal for yours truly. It’ll be the dust that’s gotten me like this.”

He sniffed obediently all the same. His reaction was almost instantaneous and explosive as could be, actually causing Steve to jump a little as he sneezed violently all over the sprig, Steve’s hand and even dousing his forearm in a sudden cloud of spray.

“EESHHHHhhh’uuu!!”

Steve dropped the sprig immediately, groaning as his cock jumped in his pants at the throaty sound of his boyfriend’s desperate release.

“Bless you, you stubborn bastard. Oh, my poor allergic baby.” He crooned, kissing at another stray tear that rolled down Eddie’s cheek and wrapping his arms around him in support as the metalhead built up to yet another fit. The older man’s chest jumped rhythmically against Steve’s own, and with shaking arms he wrapped himself around Steve in return, resting his chin over his shoulder and slotting his thigh even more securely between Steve’s, as if anchoring himself in position to allow for the sneezes to overpower him.

“Fuck, Mm’gonna-!”

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.”

Steve had barely finished speaking by the time Eddie launched into his fit, notably stronger than before after getting a direct noseful of the offending allergen. Steve held him close, keeping the pair of them upright as his boyfriend gasped and rocked and strained. He bit his lip, willing himself not to go off in his pants as each sneeze seemed to travel though the both of them.

“HeHH-TSSSCH-TSSSSCH-‘DTTSZ’SHieww!! hHH-!! ‘GTSCH’IEWW!! EhHDT’TSHHIEwww!! ENGXT’TCHuuu!! Hh, HH!! IIIESHHHH’IEWW!!! Hohh…”

Steve listened to Eddie snuffle as he hung limply in his embrace, stroking his back reassuringly and whispering sweet litanies of praise and blessings into his boyfriend’s ear.

“Bless you, honey. You did so good, really got that tickle out of your poor little nose.”

“Mmff…” Eddie responded, dragging his drippy, twitching nostrils over the junction where Steve’s neck met his shoulder and rubbing them into his skin. Steve shivered at the wet sensation, continuing to support his boyfriend’s weight whilst holding himself rigid, forcing himself not to rut his cock against Eddie’s thigh and orgasm when he should be offering comfort. He swallowed and breathed out a shaky little laugh.

“Thought I knew everything about you at this point, but I guess not.”

He felt Eddie kiss him softly through the fabric of his shirt.

“Doesn’t count if I didn’t know it either.” The metalhead muttered, sounding so incredibly wiped out Steve’s chest blossomed with affection. “Not exactly off brand for me, this shocking revelation.”

Steve chuckled softly, the sound quickly morphing into a strangled groan as Eddie suddenly muffled a string of poorly suppressed sneezes into his shoulder, shaking the both of them again.

“HhNGGXT’Tsziew!! MMP’TChhh!! Ehh’NGXT!! NGK’Tieww!!”

“Fuck, Eddie, bless you.” Steve squirmed in place, squeezing his thighs tight around Eddie’s.

Eddie sighed, an almost orgasmic exhalation of air that made Steve shudder again, before lifting his head and pulling back, allowing Steve get a thorough look at his face. The younger man’s heart (and cock) throbbed to see just how much those sneezes had overpowered his boyfriend. Eddie’s eyes were bloodshot and leaking an almost continuous stream of allergic tears; his nose was reddened and slightly swollen; his full lips pink and moist with the aftermath of the intense sneezing he’d been subjected to. But he was smiling, and Steve hadn’t been with him for going on four years now to not recognise the heated look of arousal plastered onto his face. As if to reinforce his deductions, Eddie ground his own cock, almost as hard as Steve’s, against the younger man’s thigh.

“Thank you, angel. God, that felt so good. Did you like it?” He murmured, leaning forward to rub his nose against Steve’s. The younger man could feel how damp those flaring nostrils were against his own, so warm and soft. He answered with a moan in lieu of anything even remotely intelligent. Eddie seemed happy either way.

“Bless me.” He rubbed his nose against Steve’s just a little harder. “My nose is so tickly.”

“Eddie-!” Steve moaned, feeling completely dumbstruck as his boyfriend nuzzled against him, voice low and seductive, each word elevating him closer and closer to orgasm. He wanted to throw Eddie on the ground and fuck him stupid, but he also didn’t want this wonderful teasing to stop.

Suddenly, he felt the distinct sensation of his zipper being pulled down, and gasped at the feeling of Eddie’s calloused fingers pulling his cock out of his underwear. It pulsed and drooled a new stream of pre-cum all over that warm, familiar grip.

“You want this, baby?” Eddie half-whispered against his lips.

“W-we should…go upstairs, fuckk…” Steve managed, even as his eyes rolled shut at the minute movement of Eddie gently rolling the foreskin back from his cock head. “I can…hold back…!”

“But I want you here, Stevie. And you? Holding back now that I’ve got my hand on your cock? That is a fucking lie.” Eddie grinned, offering a small closed-mouth laugh as Steve moaned against his lips again.

“Fine,” Steve gasped as Eddie’s hand, slick with the result of his own wetness, started to pull at him. “But I can’t get jizz on this carpet. Gonna have to cum all over you instead.”

It was Eddie’s turn to moan, and Steve’s eyes squeezed shut at the sound of it, so ragged and breathless he almost came on the spot. He looked down between them as his boyfriend used his free hand to bundle up the hem of his Motorhead shirt and hold it to the tip of his cock.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Harrington.” Eddie nipped at his lips. “All ready for you.”

Steve whimpered, fucking into Eddie’s grip as the stroking resumed, so good, so good, and then Eddie was sniffling into his ear and he was coming in waves, the pleasure spreading out from his pulsing cock right down to his toes, curling them in his sneakers. It was quick and dirty and felt fucking amazing – Eddie jerked him throughout as Steve gripped his shoulders to stay upright, moaning at last once his voice returned to him.

“God,” he sighed with a definitive jerk of his hips into the makeshift cover Eddie held patiently against his spitting cock. He watched as his boyfriend pulled back, the two of them taking in the impressive deluge of cum that stained the black fabric before Eddie used a clean section of shirt to lovingly wipe his cock head clean, giving it a gentle squeeze as he went.

“Feeling better, big boy?” Eddie kissed his cheek, gently moving Steve’s hands off his shoulders once it seemed he could stand on his own. He used his newfound freedom to pull the ruined shirt over his head, careful not to get any mess on himself. He scrubbed a cum-free section over his dripping face for a moment before balling it up and dropping it gently on the floor with a dorky, quiet ‘Sorry, Lemmy.’

“Yeah. Fuckkkk.” Steve breathed out, pulling Eddie into him in a crushing hug, breathing in the smell of his shampoo and running his hands up the bare skin of his back. Eddie patted the small of his back softly in return.

“Love the way you cum. So sexy.” He sighed next to Steve’s ear. Steve could still feel Eddie’s own erection, harder than ever, pressing into his hip. He danced his fingers up Eddie’s spine, humming in satisfaction as he felt his boyfriend shiver and break out in a trail of sensitive goosebumps at the touch.

“Let’s go upstairs now.” He pulled back and reached for Eddie’s hand, feeling his boyfriend grip him back immediately. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you scream.”

“You know that’s all I ever want to hear.” Eddie flashed him a crooked smile, going easily as Steve started to pull him upstairs. Steve felt him hesitate, however, after just a few steps.

“What about the mistletoe, Stevie? Don’t you want to hang it up?”

Steve shook his head, all but yanked his giggling boyfriend a step higher.

“Can’t put that shit up now, and you know it. Cheeky bastard.”

“One second.” Eddie shook his hand free of Steve’s and ran down the stairs towards the box of mistletoe, rummaging for a second with his head angled as far away from the box as possible before extracting a sprig and holding it out in the air beside him.

“Eddie-“ Steve started as his boyfriend bolted up the stairs towards him, keeping the mistletoe at arm’s length.

“C’mon, Stevie, it’s just a little one. We can leave it next to the bed, I promise I’ll be fine.”

Steve must have looked visibly worried, because Eddie pouted up at him and tilted his head coquettishly.

“Where’s your Christmas cheer?” He simpered.

Steve couldn’t deny the prospect was incredibly tempting. One glance at Eddie’s huge doe eyes as they pleaded mischievously with him was all he needed for any further protests to die in his throat.

“Fine. But you’re taking an antihistamine first, you demon.”

Eddie smirked at him, all lidded eyes and long eyelashes.

“Yes, sir!”

+++++

((Just a few notes - I'm pretty sure mistletoe allergies aren't a thing but I don't care because it's hot lol.

Also for anyone who is even a little invested in this AU, I hope it shows that Steve is more comfortable discussing fetish related things this far into their relationship compared to earlier on when he would stutter over everything!))

[marisaeon]

Sweet

a sweet moment between Leon, Ada, and their daughter. (I named her Alicia! A-li-cia What do you think? :))

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●

A cut on his left cheek. The results of a fight he broke up earlier... While he was out, he saw two men fighting in the store. Deciding to he the hero and seperate them, he ended up getting a few blows himself. But his daughter doesn't need to know that.

Leon decided he'd enter the house quietly, taking the walk of shame to the bathroom and tending to his wounds. Avoiding the questions of his wife or child.

But, his plans are immediately ruined when he walked past the kitchen to be immediately spotted by Ada.

"Look who's home, Alicia." She smiled at her daughter and motioned with her head towards Leon, who was behind the little girl.

Alicia turned, looking at him with a big toothy grin. "Daddy!" She screamed, jumping down from the counter and running over to him.

Leon picked her up, taking her in for an embrace. He purposefully laid her head on his shoulder, so she wouldn't see his face closely.

"Hey, sweetie. Did you have fun today?"

"Yup, tons of fun!" Alicia wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

He watched nervously as Ada got closer to him, obviously inspecting face. His cheek bleeding, and dirt rubbing into certain areas.

"...Oh yeah? What'd you do?" Leon continued to talk, looking at the woman in front of him clearly.

Ada spoke now, "We played doctor... Wanna show him what you learned?"

The little girl gasped, raising up her head to look at her mother. "Yeah!"

"Go get the bandaids and we'll show him, okay?"

Alicia nodded, breaking free from her father's hands as he sets her down on her feet. She runs off to the bathroom, trying to find her bandaids.

Ada crossed her arms, tilting her head ever so slightly to look him in the eyes.

"What happened to you?"

"Two drunkies fighting over nonsense. I guess they didn't like me much."

She reached to touch his cheek, lightly grazing over some dirt that clung to it. "I told you already, stop breaking up fights for strangers like this. You'll get seriously hurt one day... You know Alicia wouldn't like that." Ada sighed. "I wouldn't either."

He frowned. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Before she could say anything else, their daughter came back with her bandaids. They were in a pinkish box, with cartoon animals on it.

"Look, hun! Daddy's got a cut on his left cheek. You gotta patch it up." Ada exaggerated it, to make it more like a game.

The little girl looked determined as she ran over with the opened box, reaching for her father's face. Leon bent down, coming to her level as she struggles to peel off the paper back of the plaster. This gave him a clear view on what was about to go on his face. A pink and splashes of purple backdrop with a bunny on it. He has to say... Not really his style. But he can't complain, he's getting taken care of by his little girl.

"Here, let me open it." He offered.

"No! I can do it." Alicia stubbornly snapped back.

She got it open right in that moment, and gently stuck it onto his cheek. She announced that she was all done, and Ada couldn't help but laugh at the event in front of her. It was sweet, seeing a heart warming thing like this. Compared to the nights where Ada would stitch up his wounds, another scar to be had on his back and arms.

Leon smiled at his daughter. "Thank you, sweetie. I feel better already." He touched the bandaid, smoothing it down on his cut.

A little later, he went to go properly patch himself up in the mirror when he finally saw the plaster on his face. It stands out so much, and yet he loved it. He'd have to take it off to clean the wound.. Leon peeled off the bandaid, taking alcohol and pressing it into his cut. He dried it off, and put the plaster by on. To his surprise, it still stuck to his face. Leon smiled, it really was special.

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●

A little something while I finish up the 3rd chapter of "When I saw you"!!!

My aeon daughter finally has a name now, if you've been here a while you'll know I'd always just call her "little girl."

I had a few suggestions before, and I'm grateful for that! But I decided on this :D

Hope you enjoy this!! Cya with that 3rd chapter soon (.◜◡◝)

[pfffsfic]

Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 9: Double-O-Vision

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"So, you said it's a small town, right?"

Rob stared up at the clouds from his vantage point on the ground. Last night, he had woken up screaming after several consecutive night terrors. Sarah was enthusiastic about the chance that he was being haunted after she was awoken by the first scream, but the second and third were more frustrating to her than anything. Eventually, Rob had managed to lift his pillow-shaped rock and had taken it to the small waterfall not too far from camp so that he wouldn't be able to accidentally wake her up anymore. Sarah didn't have the heart to tell him that he was so loud he had done so a few more times anyways.

The repeated bouts of laying awake in the darkness had given both of them plenty of time to come up with their own game plans for the day.

"Right," replied Sarah, nodding.

"But you said there's a shopping mall here."

"To be fair, it's not a super huge one."

"Who builds a shopping mall in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere?"

"Look, the show didn't get into the history of local real estate development, okay?"

He let out a sigh and rolled over onto his side. Despite the sunlight, sleep seemed ready to claim him at any moment, but every time his eyelid started to fall, an image from one of the nightmares popped into his head, and suddenly he was wide awake and energetic again.

"I guess we'll have the rest of our lives to figure it out," he said.

"The rest of our lives? What's that supposed to mean?"

Rob's mind was racing, and not just because of the sleep deprivation. Did she not realize that-

"We're not going back to Elmore," he said.

She sat up and turned to him- he wasn't looking, but he could tell by the sound effects and ominous music cue. She laughed nervously.

"Sure we are!"

"Oh yeah? Well, tell me how you plan to get us back, then." He crossed his arms and curled his knees up to his chest.

"Via the Awesome Store."

"What, do you have his number?"

"No, but if he comes back-"

"If he comes back, there's no way he's gonna stumble on us by chance! Besides, why on earth would he even look for us?"

"I think there's at least one reason," Sarah said, and then promptly changed the subject. "Anyways, you have an electronics store to rob, Rob! Have you ever robbed anyone before? 'Cause, you know, your name, and all?"

"Rob's a common name."

"I know! But if this is your first time robbing someone-"

"It's not."

"Oh. All the better! As I was saying, you have an electronics store to- ahem- steal from. Thankfully, there's a whole TV display in the front window, so it shouldn't be an issue. No need to even go inside! Just, wham!" she mimed smashing a plane of glass with a crowbar- "Break in, get it, get out."

"You said I also need a generator. And something to put the DVD into."

"Oh yeah. Well, hopefully once you break in everybody inside will either run screaming or pass out and then you don't have to worry about dealing with them."

"What if they call the cops?"

"They probably won't because you're so freaky-looking, and if they do, you could take those guys with one hand behind your back. As long as you're immune to getting tased."

"...I'm not!"

"No?"

"What gave you the idea I was?"

"Hmm. That's a good question, actually. I guess I just figured you were some sort of cyborg."

"A cyborg? I don't even look anything like a-" he groaned- "Never mind. So you're saying the cops will tase me? Why can't you come help me do this? You're sort of throwing me to the wolves here!"

"They're not wolves, they're people. We're literally in the middle of the forest right now. I bet there are wolves everywhere! One could be behind you and you wouldn't even know it! Maybe even mutant wolves, or wolves that have their heads on backwards and speak in code, or- you get the idea. Any one of those could be behind you."

Rob scoffed dismissively but rolled onto his back nonetheless.

"If you get arrested," Sarah continued, "you can just dig your way out with a spoon."

"Where am I getting a spoon from?"

"Good point."

After a long and awkward stretch of silence, Rob said 'welp', slapped his knee, flinched at the pain, mentally beat himself up for flinching at his own slap, flinched at the pain from mentally beating himself up, and stormed out of the forest in a huff when he realized he had to take action to avoid an infinite loop. Sarah followed him to the edge of the trees to hand him his crowbar like a concerned mother whose son forgot his lunch box on the first day of school. He didn't thank her. Five minutes into town, he realized he never got an answer to the question of why Sarah was making him do this alone, but it was too late to go back. Not really- he had all day- but it was the principle of the thing. Had he dwelled on that thought for longer, maybe he would have realized it didn't make any sense, but he was too occupied with finding the shopping mall to do that. It couldn't be too hard; after all, this was a small town!

-

Sarah read through the back cover of her DVD yet again. It was significantly less fun than rewatching the show.

Just a few minutes south of Rob's campsite was another clearing where the mud was soft and a big stick was propped against a rock; Sarah had made this place her canvas. The apocalypse had allowed her to tap into her destructive instincts, which she had discovered were almost as potent as her creative ones and just as enjoyable to use, but that didn't mean she could go a day without at least doodling something or having an elaborate daydream. The thing about drawing in the dirt with a stick was that the final product never quite looked good enough.

She drew a little heart on the ground with her finger and put an S in it, for Sarah. Just as she was about to complete it with two more initials, she glanced over at the dozen or so other identical hearts she had drawn recently, and wondered for a moment if she was perhaps getting in a rut. What if the van never returned and she was stuck here and she never got to see their faces ever again and she forgot what they looked like? On one hand, that could totally be a setup for, like, a heartbreaking reunion plot. On the other, it could be the end, assuming this was a tragedy. Was it even possible to forget them? She remembered every detail... right now. But brains were fallible. Would love protect her, or would it be a moral about how love never truly protects anyone from the inevitable marching forth of time? She sighed. Sarah was used to sighing for theatrical purposes, but now there was nobody to fool except herself. 'I am just that committed', she thought, and that cheered her up a bit- so much so that she never even considered that the negative emotions behind the sigh could have been real.

Part of her felt guilty for wasting time. She hadn't come here for the trees and occasional monsters, she had come here for the people, and also demons. Mostly demons- actually, mostly demon, singular. But that didn't mean the idea of interacting with some of the others didn't excite her. She couldn't just barge into their lives, though! She wasn't human! That had never ever mattered before.

'At least it won't matter once I'm back in Elmore', she thought.

'We're not going back to Elmore', said Rob in her head.

"Oh, Rob," she said, rolling her eyes, smiling half-heartedly, and speaking out loud to someone who wasn't there. Nobody answered. There weren't even any monsters listening in? C'mon.

Sarah leaned back, closed her eyes, and counted sheep versions of her friends and classmates until the world fell away and she began to dream.

-

By what was either a normal consequence of life in a small town or some arcane miracle, Rob had arrived in front of the television display without seeing hide or hair of a single local human. That said, he had been looking down at his feet for most of the walk there, so maybe there had been some around.

Standing in front of the display case with the TVs made everything feel so real. Rob knew that it wasn't, of course, and yet some days that seemed like a distant, irrelevant fact. This was one of those days. He knew that bashing the glass in was his purpose at the moment, and yet it was so peaceful that doing so seemed a shame, even though reality was nothing more than a simulacrum created for the amusement of a media-hungry modern audience and none of it really mattered anyway because the heat death of the universe would someday render fiction entirely irrelevant. When that day came, would he die, or would he not even know that it happened? Sheesh...

He blinked and found that his head had slumped forward against the glass in the time that it took for him to think all of that. Boy, was he tired. He could lay down right here and- no!

He gave the glass a hard whack with the crowbar before he had the mental presence to stop himself. It bounced off with a clang that rang out like a tuning fork. Oh no- he'd need to do it again? He did it again, weaker this time, and the glass still didn't break. This was more difficult than anticipated. If someone saw this, they would laugh at him... no, wait, they'd probably call the cops. And then he'd get tased-

With a frustrated grunt, he swung harder and the glass splintered.

All it took was a light additional tap for the fruits of his mission to be fully exposed, and then he reached through the hole in the glass to grab one and three facts immediately set in, stymieing the evil, triumphant laugh in his throat before it could come out of his mouth:

1. The TVs were heavy,

2. He still needed to fetch a DVD player, a remote, and a generator,

3. There were people in the store-

4. And those people were looking at him!

As he took one frozen step back, he met the left eye of the silent, awed clerk behind the counter and thought, 'they're more scared of me than I am of them'. He had to believe that for this to work. He had to. With all the confidence he could muster, he shoved his anxiety deep down inside, stepped through the broken glass, maneuvered around the stack of TVs, left the display case, and put up finger guns at the clerk as if he was robbing a bank.

"This is a hold-up," he said, and it sounded cooler in his head. The clerk's hands went up. "Everybody on the floor!"

The two other customers in the store cowered behind a rack of phone chargers, one of them slumping down. The clerk promptly passed out. Either way, everybody was on the floor. Then, to Rob's horror, one of the customers- the one who hadn't slumped over- produced a cell phone from his pocket. Rob stepped towards him and aimed his 'guns' in the terrified man's face. The phone came on, and...

"Oh no, my battery's dead!" said the man as a red 'charge' symbol appeared on the screen.

Rob sighed in relief- and then both he and the man noticed the rack of phone chargers. Rob stepped forward, prepared to take the phone and crush it if need be, when the man's face fell once again.

"Wait, looks like they don't have anything that fits my old model."

Rob shook his head, feeling less like an intimidating bank robber and more like the world's luckiest petty thief.

"Uh, I suggest you pass out, man," Rob said, rubbing his own arm.

The guy obliged. Well, he tried to look like he was passed out, at least, but that was good enough.

It only took a few minutes to get a TV, an emergency generator (from the back), and a DVD player, load them onto a wheeled storage cart, and get out of Dodge with time to spare before the two genuinely-unconscious people woke up. That had been surprisingly easy! An unsettling feeling that he was being watched crept over him as he made his away from the electronics store, but it dissipated after just a few minutes of walking. Surely just another effect of the sleep deprivation. How many effects did sleep deprivation have, anyway?

-

Sarah took a sip of her milkshake. It didn't taste like anything, but that was fine since this was a dream. It was a dream, right? Okay, yeah, there was some sort of sky whale floating nearby and she was sitting on a giant toadstool in the middle of the mall. It was definitely a dream. But not a nightmare- not the sort of dream that would be thrust upon you as a punishment by a malevolent entity with an ulterior motive. This was the sort of dream she had most nights.

"He's not here," she mused, looking up into the eyes of her date, who looked at different moments like different boys she knew, most often two of them in particular.

"But I'm here, sweetie," he said, and tried to lean in for a kiss, but he turned to soapy water and spilled all over the floor before he could make contact with her. That was slightly weird, but not 'wake up screaming' weird. She got up and wandered through the dreamscape, feeling like a paper doll in a pool full of molasses as her legs refused to move any faster than slow motion.

"Hello?" she called. "You there? You know who you are."

No response. Sarah balled up her fists, puffed out her cheeks, and pinched herself hard on the arm, waking up in her art clearing with a disappointed sigh. It was then that she heard the sound of footsteps and the squeaking of wheels and decided that either this was Rob or some kind of half-wagon half-humanoid monster. Either way, she had to see for herself!

-

When the generator was running and the TV on, Sarah moved a rock in front of the eye of providence she had carved into the tree trunk. Rob found that strange. Whatever this DVD was, Sarah didn't want Bill to see it, which seemed rather counter-intuitive considering her entire goal here.

The two of them had dug a little ditch to sit in for ease of viewing. Sarah reached for the DVD enthusiastically, but her smile dropped off her face when she saw Rob, asleep, sprawled over in the ditch. She reached for his shoulder. He screamed so loud that she fell backwards.

"Another nightmare?" she asked.

"Yeah. This one had lots of stabbing." He let out a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Thanks for w-w-waking me up! I think I would have s-shh-screamed in my sleep and kept on going if you hadn't."

His voice had a new wavering quality to it, not quite a stutter but something close.

"Okay, you don't seem ready for a 17-hour binge session..."

He suddenly seemed awake. "17 hours? What the heck is on this DVD of yours?"

Sarah held up the box. Her usual cheery demeanor had mostly faded. Rob read aloud.

"Gravity Falls, the complete series," he said, and then did a double-take. "Gravity Falls the complete series? You have this? Where'd you get it?"

"The Awesome Store."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," said Rob, recalling the VHS tape he had once purchased from the forsaken red van. "But why didn't you tell me? Why would you want to keep this information to yourself? That's-! that's-!"

"Calm down! It's because- ergh. This is gonna sound super skeevy, but it's because I know that after you see what's on there, you're gonna say something like-"

-

"You're telling me you want to mess with that guy? On purpose? That you think of this as some g-game?"

Rob's blood boiled. He wiped his eye, which was wet, probably from the 17 hours of television (interspersed with the occasional bad dream). It didn't help that he had gotten emotional once or twice.

"WHAT ON EARTH IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Before Sarah could respond, he had stumbled backwards and fallen unconscious once again.

[velvet-paradox]

Heartstrings (Part Two)

Heartstrings (Part Two) Fandom: Sleep Token (band) Pairing: Eventual Vessel x Female reader, (brief) IV x Female reader Length: Short Warnings: Eventual NSFW, 18 + ONLY, reader discretion advised, strong language, alcohol consumption, tobacco use, supernatural elements, smitten Vessel, a quick smooch, a dash of angst at the end. This part is a bit shorter but there’s more to come so... yeah! Tagging: @synnersaint @megangovier20 @thesoundresoundsecho

ENJOY!!!

True to your word, he'd smile at a welcomed call of HELLLOOOO HANDSOME! or LOOKING GOOD BOY! something affirming that had Vessel walking a little taller that day, confident through your eyes, carrying himself with a higher weight.

That is, until you presented him with a necklace made of coins and tiny metal beads one evening at the coffee shop, sitting outside with a drink of your own during his break. Louie had taken an instant shine to you, even the bag under his eyes lit up when you hooked your arm through Vessel's, allowing you to snag a chocolate éclair; ion the house of course.

"Where the hell did you find that ratty old thing anyway?"

"In the dirt. Where else?" You scrunched up your nose, looking it over.

"The dirt?! Why-- wait. Why are you digging around in dirt?"

You shrugged. "Because you find things in dirt, why else? See, I'm thinking this thing has some sort of power to it, right? So what if it controls our destiny, our fate. You have it for... oh say three days tops, then it's my turn and we have to do whatever the other one says or we'll be cursed." You made a spooky sound that just might frighten a small child into sleeping with a night light for the foreseeable future.

"What are you nine?"

You mocked his suggestion and took a sip of your coffee, holding out the rank and blackened necklace across from him, he was quick to cover his croissant from any rusty or tetanus laden crumbs in your palm.

"Come on. It'll be fun."

"It'll be a disaster." Vessel grumbled but enjoyed the amusement on your face as you admired the thing. ....

"I'm not doing that!"

"You have to. It's my turn!" you seethed behind the dumpster of the basketball court at the college. "A dare is a dare, remember?"

Oh did he! You two had been at this twisted little game for years now. Egging each other on, upping the other to the most dramatic of ideas and pranks. Most of the time it was harmless little dares, mainly played to embarrass one another, to see the other fail in the most creative of ways but sometimes, oh God, sometimes either one of your would get downright nasty and force the hand of the other to do something diabolical. Not illegal, but it could sometimes feels that way.

Vessel had also began to express himself more so through masks than his attire. Always in black, head to toe, painting his nails and experimenting with body paint. He wished t blend in to the background of the world around him than participate in the grind. Thankfully Louie was understanding and let him try out new looks, as long as he didn't spook off the customers of course.

It was your turn, wearing the gaudy thing as you pointed out the biggest, broadest man on the court. Daring Vessel to slink around the benches, unnoticed obviously and creep under, tie his laces together so that when he stood up from his water break, he'd trip and fall in front of the whole court. What a riot, you exclaimed, waggling your fingers in his face.

You danced your eyebrows with a grin. "Are you game?" ....

"I told you that was a bad idea!"

"Oh calm down, it's not that bad."

Vessel pinched the bridge of his nose, scared that it might be broken and he'd only be making it worse, wincing as you held the underside of your shirt to his it. The skin of your belly, the purple underwire of your bra just within view.

"He could've taken your eye out."

"I wish he would've!" Vessel complained but the way you'd tended to him, more than once was a relief for a number of reasons. He'd never been this cared for, catered to, cherished like some dainty thing. He was too tall and gangly in middle school which transferred easily to high school and well after. Only after his mid-twenties did he feel like he'd grown into his features. Even with your constant approval that he was attractive, he was still on the bottom shelf of disbelief.

The praise was welcomed though. Cozy. You felt like home.

You moved your legs, standing closer over him on the bench, your legs shadowing over his own. You could easily just straddle his lap if you wanted. Not that he'd mind. It would be awkward as shit at first and with how you lived life, you might as well.

His mother, like Louie, was welcoming in your budding friendship in high school, happy to have a girl in the house, a daughter she didn't have. You were invited to family events, Christmases, birthday's and the like. Your pictures on their fridge. You were a part of the family.

Nothing sexual had been shared between you, though on one occasion you did plant lingering kiss on his lips when a girl that was after him and apparently wasn't hearing the word NO, gave chase at a party. He was panicked, looking for an escape, hot on Vessel's heels he finally ran into you and frantically begged for help.

He was giddy about it. Not even caring that his eyes were still closed when you pulled away and embraced him. He thought about that a lot.

He did feel a pang of jealousy when you'd come over to the house Vessel shared with his three best counterparts. You'd share a bottle of booze, if you were truly feeling frisky that night you'd drink it straight and pass it directly to III who'd either saunter over to you, while you danced or would pretend to lasso you to him. You never asked him to dance.

He'd watch though.

He was always watching.

Observing the night, logging things away in another fucked up notebook, scribbled down lyrics or events to remember later. A memory he might've otherwise forgotten. 

Vessel wrote poems, sonnets, haikus, little blurbs of life, clinging to them as if they'd save him one day, a token of appreciation maybe. A trade. An IOU for an unforeseen date.

Like the time he caught you wrapped up in the arms of IV, another night of dancing and drinking and laughing too loudly and not giving a fuck. You'd run off to the bathroom and hadn't come back. Vessel, drunk on his own had sought you out, toying with the necklace around his neck only to find the bathroom empty. 

The door to IV's room was cracked, red light screaming out into the hall.

He didn't know what he'd find behind that door but it certainly was not you, on IV's lap, grinding and kissing him in a way Vessel had only seen in softcore porn. All tongue and teeth, smiling and writhing against one of his best friends. Too lost in each other, neither one of you had noticed or had been bothered. Vessel ground his teeth and left the door the way he'd found it.

He meant to write it down but instead polished off back to back shots in order to forget it all together.

When you two rejoined them that night, Vessel didn't say a word.

If it wasn't him you were to be kissing and laughing with, maybe he should play into the advances of the women around him.

Maybe if he blacked out, he could blackout what he'd seen. Block you out.

....

The mug in his hands was scalding hot, coils of steam made his eyes water as he sat alone at the coffee table holding on to the necklace. The game, the chase. What once was.

"Soooo what are you going to do then?" Sleep crept around the table with his little red paws, leaving behind puffs of dust. Those inky black eyes fluttered up at Vessel.

"I don't know. I don't know what I should do." Vessel shrugged, thumbing over one of the coins.

The moonlight got brighter as passing clouds exposed its bone white surface through the kitchen window. 

"Play that little game, says I. See what she wants this time. It's been how long, my dear Ves?" Sleep questioned, floating up to rest on top of the refrigerator, tapping his tail on the ledge.

He had to squint in thought for a moment, images like passing train cars flashed behind his eyes. Stacks of journals, moving boxes, burnt plates of roast, pop-overs that popped too much over, Sleep slinking into his bed to sleep at his feet, a broken mirror and hell of a lot of tears. The accident. The bandages. The stares.

"Three years."

"Ah yes," Sleep hummed as he slid down the fridge and flopped himself over Vessel's shoulder. "That was when I came to you. A friend. A match to light your way. You just didn't know I was the headlight on the train of your deep dark tunnel you'd found yourself in," that admittance, even though positively true made him sick, Vessel didn't like to think about that. That was a whole other version of him he didn't want to introduce to anyone. "You are a different person now though, maybe your friend is too. What harm would it do, really?"

It took Vessel two days of wracking his brain around the necklace, stitched at one end making it whole once again. He touched it and whether he was just dog tired or Sleep had anything to do with it, he was now back transported to that awful place.

And he hated it.

Part Three

[dye-it-rouge-et-noir]

For April Fools, I rewrote Casino Royale but Uno as a crack fic. I'm not sure if I am going to regret this later, but I think this is something! 800~ words and it's fairly unrefined.

Within an ornate Montenegrin casino, an Uno tournament had been hosted with the cash prize of 100 million in USD. Though an eccentric option for a casino that typically hosted the likes of poker and baccarat, it had caught the attention of social elites. More importantly, a financer for a myriad of terrorist organizations had joined in. Le Chiffre had taken advantage of the opportunity to recuperate from his financial losses. 

M had nominated Bond to join in the game due to his high win streaks in the MI6 breakrooms. Though, he didn't need to exactly win. He simply needed to make Le Chiffre lose, drive him up into a corner, and figure out who his superiors were. 

The rules followed that of the original code laid out by the game's creator, Merle Robbins. Each player starts out with a hand of cards, matching one of their cards with the color or number that coincided with the top card on the discard pile. In order to win, they would continue matching until they had none left over. If there were no matches, they would have to draw another card. 

However, the game held some complexity that differentiated it from being a mere colorful imitation of Go-Fish. There was the inclusion of cards that could cause the next player to draw more cards, wild cards that allowed the next color to be chosen, and a card that could reverse the order of turns. All of these could be deployed to one's advantage to shift who was winning and who was losing.

Though a standard round of Uno would last approximately the time it took for someone to eat lunch, the game began to stretch over the span of a few hours. That was because of one special additional rule of Uno. 

When one's hand thinned down to a singular card, they had to call out the titular word uno before someone else did. Otherwise, they'd have to draw two cards. This rule was abused throughout the game to effectively bar someone from getting close to zero. 

Bond kept a watchful eye over everyone's cards, in case anybody had forgotten that rule. As Le Chiffre's hand slowly waned, the spy was waiting for the moment when his hand had a singular card.

That moment was now. 

The paymaster had placed a card on the discard pile, leaving him with one card.

This opportunity would not dare be wasted.

"Uno," Bond called out.

Le Chiffre's head turned towards Bond, "I beg your pardon?"

The spy simply nodded, "You have to draw two cards now."

"He's right," The croupier flipped through a tiny uno handbook, "You have to draw two cards whenever someone calls uno before you do."

After a harsh glare sent towards Bond, Le Chiffre reluctantly drew two cards.

For that move, Le Chiffre retaliated in response later by poisoning Bond's martini when break was called.

Never in his life did Bond think that he'd nearly lose his life over a colorful card game, but it happened. 

With Vesper's timely aid, he had managed to narrowly survive and could continue playing Uno.

The rest of the night had proceeded like an usual Uno game (an absurdly long one), albeit some of the other players had forfeited the match due to its prolonged length and increasing frustration. Even as the player count slowly dwindled, the tense atmosphere remained. 

Le Chiffre placed a red six on the discard pile, leaving him with one card.

"Uno," The paymaster said, not allowing himself to make the same mistake as last time. 

Bond looked at his hand of two cards remaining, one was a blue seven and the other was a wild card.

He had saved the wild card for good reason. Not only was it capable of being used without regard to the last discarded card, it had the ability to determine the next color to be used.

Judging by Le Chiffre's confident demeanor, he guessed that the other card in his hand would have been none other than either another red or six. Though, there was the lurking possibility that the paymaster held a draw four or even another wild card in his possession. Considering that wild cards only determined the color of the next card, Bond had to decide upon blue if he wanted to discard his other one.

Placing the wild card into the discard pile, hoping that luck would be on his side.

"Blue. I would also like to call my uno."

Bond wasn't going to let his opponent call Uno before he did at the very end of the game.

Watching the wild card get placed, Le Chiffre drew a card from the draw pile.

With that, Bond had secured himself the victory. He promptly placed his other card on top of the stack silently with a smirk. 

He was pretty certain that Le Chiffre would try to kill him again later, but he wanted to revel in the victory for as long as he could.

[juliasdowntonstuff]

My dearest Darling Chapter 56

After taking a bit of a mental health break from writing this story (and actually writing in general) I am now back with another chapter of My dearest Darling, available online on ff and on ao3 as usual.

"Donk, it's your turn," George said, sitting on the ground close to his grandfather next to their board of ludo. In recent weeks, the boy had taken a special liking to this particular game and pulled it out almost every day when Nanny brought them down after tea. It had easily ousted snakes and ladders, which had been his clear favourite before. And lucky for him, Robert had nothing against a fair game against his eldest grandson. As long as he won.

He was mesmerised by her, there was no denying it. Even after all these years. Although he would try to deny any such allegations if confronted. He watched her mouth move and he could not suppress the bright grin as her lips curled into the faintest of smiles. He watched the way her nose crinkled ever so slightly and how her eyebrows were raised in playful astonishment looking at the children surrounding her on the settee. She was replying to something one of them had said; or maybe she was just reading from the book open in her lap? It was probably the latter, now that he was thinking about it. But to him, it did not matter, not really. She looked carefree; an impression that she had made on him all too rarely in recent months. He enjoyed seeing her so at ease once more. If he weren't such a forlorn fool with words, he might have even told her that the sight warmed his heart.

Alas, he knew he could never say as much to her, and so he simply continued to watch her. She sat somewhat crouched over the book of old fairytales from their daughters' youth with Marigold and Caroline perched on the red couch to either side of her. It was an unfamiliar sight for him, even though he wished it was not. Marigold was trying her best to keep her half-brother still in her lap and away from the apparently very fascinating pages in their grandmother's lap. The blonde boy had still somehow managed to grab the edge of one of the pages and began tugging at it with as much strength as he could possibly muster. And once again she was saying something, this time turned to look directly at the little boy to her left, joy and playful rigour reflected in her eyes and face as she carefully pried the page from his tiny and surprisingly strong fingers. Then, while her granddaughters were laughing about the whole scene, she went back to reading them the story as if nothing had happened. She squinted her eyes, a ray of sunshine directly falling on her face now that she was leaning forward again. She looked so beautiful, so serene, so at peace. And healthier. Her road to complete recovery was still a long one, but she was looking more and more like her old self, before her illness had taken over their lives for so long.

"Donk?" George inquired again.

[hyperfixationstation128]

Through Blaze of Fire, I'll Find My Way. A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfiction.

Hello! This is my first fanfiction that I've written in over 11 years and I'm very excited to share it with you all! A quick note before you read, this is the first of many chapters to come about my Tav, Arcane. This first chapter depicts the very beginning of her story, so it'll be some time before you see an in-game character, but I hope you all stick around and join me as we explore! Small CW for non-canon character death.

This fanfiction does have some Irish Gaelic words and phrases, and all pronunciations and translations will be posted at the end of the story. I've tried my best to translate all phrases as accurately as I could!

Big shoutout to @galeorderbride for giving me the courage and motivation to pick up writing again. I had so much fun writing and hearing what you had to say!

The day was cold and overcast. It always seemed to rain in Daggerford, soaking the grey stone beaches and casting a saddening hue over the town, like the ever-breaking tide threatened to swallow you whole, keeping you tied to this land forever. But it wasn’t so, not for Arcane. To her, this town was home; this town that kept her and her younger siblings safe; this town where she, her mother, and grandfather practiced magic ‘til the sun sunk behind the heavy, dark sea.

Just outside the town walls, not far from the mighty moat that encompassed it, sat their quaint little home on the water. Her father Lorcan, a fisherman, was rarely home as he often set sail on his tiny sailboat for his daily catch to sell at the market. Her mother, ever-beautiful Suil, stayed home and watched after the children with the help of Arcane’s beloved grandfather Ruairí. It was Arcane’s birthday, she was turning 9 years old!

‘A very important age for a budding young sorceress’, her grandfather had explained. His words rang in her ears, filling her with excitement for the festivities to come. Mother had warned her, though, not to get too excited or expect too many gifts, but with her grandfather being all too willing to rile up her excitement, Arcane elected to ignore her mother’s words.

“Can I have my gift now, grandda?” Arcane chirped, her seafoam eyes blinking up at him. She held his hand as they walked along the stony beach, the spray from both rain and sea wetting their faces. Grandfather let out a soft chuckle that rumbled like thunder.

“You’re an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He lifted her hand and bent down to plant a loving kiss over her knuckles, patting it lightly. “Not yet, dove. When yer father returns from his catch, then you will have your gift.”

Arcane huffed and rolled her eyes, cheeks puffing out as she pouted.

They continued their walk, they seemed to always take these walks, just her and grandfather. He would talk to her about magic, show her spells, and give lessons in the form of games. From the moment Arcane’s abilities formed, her grandfather had taken a special interest in her, a rumor setting in amongst the townspeople that he had either blessed or cursed her from the moment she was born. The way he described it, her father was nowhere to be found when her mother went into labor, so he was the one who delivered her. According to the stories about her birth, grandfather lifted the crying babe above his head and proclaimed her “Arcane, Daughter of the Weave”. Her name never really meant much to her, not in the way it mattered to her mum and grandfather, but either way, she loved hearing the story.

It had seemed like hours had passed since they set off of their trek, the sunshower slowly letting up as the sun sank behind the dark sea. On their way back, the sight of white, patched-over sails caught Arcane’s eye and she released her grandfather’s hand to bound down the shore. Her father had returned!

“Papa! Papa!” She cried, arms outstretched as he stepped onto the dock and tied his sailboat to port. Upon reaching him, she threw her arms around his leg, holding him tightly. Her father grunted and dismissed her with a ruffle of her hair before turning to unload his catch. Arcane took a step to help her father but was stopped by her grandfather’s firm hand on her shoulder.

“Good catch today, Lorcan? Or has Umberlee found you unworthy of one?” Grandfather chuckled, and Father grumbled, muttering curses under his breath. It was always this way between them, but Arcane didn’t mind it, she was just happy to have her father there to celebrate. Arcane whined and tugged at her grandfather’s pant leg, practically vibrating with anticipation.  looked down at her and smiled his warm smile, he knelt, groaning with effort as he lifted her in his arms.

“Arcane and I are heading back to the house to celebrate her birthday. If you’ve a mind for your wee one’s heart, you’ll join us.” Father didn’t respond, and as they walked back home, Arcane stared after him over her grandfather’s shoulder.

Back at home, it was practically chaos, with her brother Caelan chasing after her sisters Naoisa and Maira with a wooden sword. Arcane practically leaped from her grandfather’s arms and rushed in to defend her poor sisters. “Caelan Villarelah, you are an impossibly naughty boy!” Arcane parroted the words of her mother, wagging her finger at him with her hand on her hip.

Caelan rolled his eyes at Arcane and dropped the sword on the floor. “Just ‘cause you're older, doesn’t mean you make the rules, Caney!” He stuck out his tongue, before running to their grandfather. “Grandda, tell Caney she’s not the boss!” He begged, pointing his finger accusingly at Arcane.

Grandfather looked at her, shrugging slightly. “Well, you heard the boy, dove. You don’t make the rules.” he chuckled, offering her a knowing wink. Arcane stifled a giggle before bounding into the kitchen, where her mother, heavy with her newest sibling, swayed in front of her large cookbook, her hands dancing in the air, her magic stirring whatever delicious meal she was cooking for supper.

“Mammy! It’s my birthday, Mammy, did ya hear? I’m 9 years old and Grandda says he has a special gift for me!” Mother turned to look at her daughter, her brow cocked in a confused expression.

“Yer birthday? No, no, we celebrated that last year, remember?” The corners of her lips quivered in an attempt to mask her smile.

“Mammy! We talked about this! Birthdays happen every year!” Arcane giggled, her hands reaching up to touch her mother’s stomach. “Don’t you worry, Niamh, when you’re born I’ll remind Mammy of all of your birthdays!” Arcane planted a kiss on her mother’s stomach, pressing her cheek to the swollen bump, and as if to say they agreed, Niamh kicked.

Her mother brushed her fingers through Arcane’s wind-tousled hair, gently detangling the knots that had worked their way in there. “Of course you will, A stór(meaning: “my treasure”), because you’re the best big sister any child could dream of having,” She gave Arcane a gentle nudge, “Now go on! Mammy’s just about finished with your supper.”

And so the night continued, Arcane corralling her brother and sisters while Mother finished cooking. The children had gone through the phases of chasing one another, playing “Silence Greatshout”, to finally settling down at the table and wolfing down the long-awaited stew. Notably, Father was absent from the meal and the celebration, he wasn’t even there when Arcane blew out her candle on her sweet cake. But the feeling of missing him was easily overshadowed by uproarious applause from her family, her grandfather giving her a loving shake. The night continued, Arcane sharing the small sweet cake with her siblings, despite her mother saying she could have it all to herself. In mere seconds, the cake was gone, all evidence of its existence now reduced to crumbs and frosting smeared on the children’s faces.

“Well, now! That was a lovely celebration!” Grandfather groaned as he stood and started up the stairs, “But it is getting late. We should all start heading to bed.”

“Grandda!!” The children yelled in unison.

“You a’got Caney’s birfday present!” Maira stood on her chair and stomped her foot, her chubby face red.

Grandfather turned, dramatically clutching his chest with his hand to his head. “Ahh, my wee darlin’, ya caught me! How could I forget?” He scooped Maira into his arms and waved for the children to follow him into their living room and sit in front of him. “You, sweet Maira, ya keep me an honest man.” Grandfather made a show of waving his hands in the air, his deep voice seeming to echo off of the walls as he cited an incantation.

Silence. The children listened close, pointed ears pricked for the slightest change in sound.

“Hmm, I don’t think it worked. Perhaps if the birthday girl were to help me.” Grandfather gave a knowing look to Arcane, who excitedly hopped up and stood in front of him. “Now, dove, hold yer hands out in front of you. Remember to keep yer mind clear, yer heart open, and speak clearly.”

Arcane nodded, her brow furrowing to a concentrated frown and her eyes closing tightly. Her hands, though a little unpracticed, waved gracefully in the air, a blue glow emanating from her fingertips as she repeated the encantation clearly. Her heart swelled, her nerves stood on edge, and with a soft fizzz and woosh, her arms suddenly felt heavy and.... Was that.... Fur?

Arcane peeked an eye open. There, in her arms, lay a small kitten, his gorgeous white fur and silver stripes bristled as his fiery blue eyes darted back and forth. “Wha.... where am I? Mum?” the kitten mewed, clearly frightened by his sudden appearance within the family home.

“A kitten? And he talks! Oh, Grandda, he’s perfect!” Arcane tucked the kitten close and leaped into her Grandther’s arms, hugging him tightly.

“Not just any kitten, dove. This here creature is a careful cross between an Elven Cat and a Cath Shee.” He gently stroked the kitten’s head which settled under his touch. “There’s a breeder in Evermeet who breeds these kittens specifically for their magical abilities. He will be yer loyal companion.”

Arcane gazed warmly at the kitten, gently stroking his fur and scratching his chin. He seemed to settle somewhat, his whole body vibrating as he began to purr. Enchanted by the adorable ball of fluff, Maira and Naoisa huddled closer to get a better look, tentatively brushing their fingers against his soft fur.

“He’s so cute! What will you call him, Caney?” Naoisa piped up.

Arcane thought for a spell, biting her knuckle as she thought. “Ah, I know! Pangur Bán! After the anomnimous monk who wrote poems about his cat!” Arcane beamed up at her grandfather and mother, who smiled proudly back at her.

“He’s all yours, A stór. You be sure to take good care of him, yes?” Mother raised her eyebrows expectantly, her smile strained as if she didn’t entirely care for the idea of having a magical, teleporting cat in her home.

“I will, Mammy! I will!” Arcane placed a gentle kiss on Pangur’s head before making her way to her bedroom. She and her new friend had a lot to talk about.

Two years later

It had been two years since Arcane’s wonderful 9th birthday; she was 11 now, practically a woman, her mother would say. Mother had given birth to Naimh, her new baby brother during the Spring that followed Arcane’s birthday, Father had begun to leave port less and less over the years, it seemed, and Grandfather was as wonderful and doting as ever. Although, with age, came the dark cloud of true sight. It became rather clear that Father and Grandfather didn’t get along, constantly bickering with one another over things like rent, supporting the children, and caring for Mother, who’d recently fallen ill. With things as they were, it fell to Arcane to care for her siblings, having to forsake her daily lessons with Grandfather.

Despite how busy her days had become, there were moments - however brief - when Arcane would have a little time for herself. Late at night, after the children were all tucked in their beds, Arcane would rummage around in Grandfather’s room and steal away with his tomes, hiding away by the rocky cliff faces near her town. That is where she found herself this night, with Pangur, now grown, curled in her lap. The bright white glow of her dancing lights illuminated the pair as Arcane read and practiced her new incantations.

‘Come on, Arcane, if you can summon a magical cat, you can easily project a magic missile!’ Arcane chastised herself in her mind.

“I heard that,” Pangur mumbled, his head still resting on her lap. Damn that cat for hearing her thoughts! He sat up and stretched, tail quivering as he did so. “Yer never going to get better at your spells if you keep putting yerself down like that!”

Arcane sighed, her shoulders slumping forward. “I know, I’m just not used to these kinds of spells! These would be so much easier if Grandda were here to help me.” Her teeth clenched and her frown crinkled her nose, “But with Papa not bringing in any fish to sell, he’s had to start working again to help pay for Mammy’s medicine.” She lazily petted Pangur, making sure to scratch between his shoulders just how he liked.

Pangur leaned into her touch, a deep purr rumbling in his chest. “Don’t you worry yer wee head. Pretty soon, all of our troubles will be a thing of the past and everything will go back to normal.”

Arcane heaved a hefty sigh, standing to her feet. She was tired of having to wait for things to return to normal! She wanted her Grandfather back! She wanted her Mother back! She wanted to spend all her free time practicing her magic, not looking after her siblings. As much as it pained her to think it, the bitter taste of resentment for her father burned in the back of her mind like bile. Why did he have to be so selfish? Why was he always so selfish? Favoring the drink over his wife and children? Why wasn’t he ever involved in anything they did?

Her eyes trailed down to the book in her hands, her fingers dancing over the ornate binding, tracing the inlaid gold leaf that highlighted the title on the cover. Another heavy sigh fell from her lips. No matter how much she didn’t want this, no matter how much she wished to be elsewhere, this was her life, like it or not. She had to keep going. For her Grandfather, for her siblings.... For her Mother.

The night had become pitch black, darkened by the heavy grey cloud that rumbled overhead; Definitely time to be heading back. Arcane waved for Pangur to follow as she carefully climbed her way down the rocky cliff back toward home. She had spent far too long out there already, and if she wanted to have any energy to watch the children tomorrow, she had to get some rest. The walk back home was quiet, save for the gentle rolls of thunder and the lapping of the waves as they crashed upon the rocks. It was a sound Arcane had forsaken as a younger child. After all, how could one miss something that became a part of her daily routine?

After finally making it home, Arcane slowly made her way inside, careful not to trigger the squeaky hinge that groaned when disturbed. Inside, her father sat in his rickety chair sound asleep, a tattered book about pirates hung loosely from his fingers while he held a bottle of whisky tightly to his chest. Arcane rolled her eyes and flicked her hand, a nearby blanket folding itself over her father at her command. Her dreary legs carried her up the whining steps until he made it to her shared bedroom with the other girls. Naoisa and Maira were long since asleep, arms and legs splayed freely across the shared mattress. Arcane was careful not to wake them as she took off her boots and lifted the mattress to stash away her Grandfather’s tome.

It took some detangling of the girls’ limbs to make enough room for her to lie down, but after she did, it didn’t take long for sleep to find her.

The next morning arrived like a banging drum, startling Arcane from her sweet dreams. The girls were awake and jostling her, begging for breakfast. She barely had time to rub the sleep from her eyes before the girls were pulling her out of bed and onto her feet, their cries for food making Arcane’s head pound.

“Alright, alright, ye diabhal beag!” Arcane shooed her sisters out the door, promising them breakfast after she saw to their mother’s morning treatment. As the girls bounded down the steps, Arcane rounded the corner, grabbing the medicine on the table in the hall. With a gentle knock, Arcane entered the bedroom. It was eerily quiet.

“Mammy? Good morning, Mammy. It’s time for your medicine.” No response. She must’ve been especially drained today. Arcane sat on the edge of the bed, pouring the poultice into a little serving spoon. “Mammy? You gotta wake up. It’s time for your medicine.” Once more, silence. This didn’t seem quite right. Mother was usually quiet, save for the gentle rasp of her breathing.

Arcane placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder, giving her a little shake. “Mammy~ wake up!” She cooed. She looked down at her hand. Mother was cold. Why was Mother cold? And why wasn’t she breathing? Arcane shook her mother harder, dropping the spoon with a clatter.

“Mammy? Mammy, wake up! Mammy, please, you’re scaring me! Mammy!” Her desperate cries fell on deaf ears. Mother wasn’t waking up, no matter how much Arcane shook her. Fear gripped her heart like an icy spear, her throat tightened and her eyes burned. No, it couldn’t happen like this! It wasn’t supposed to happen like this!

“Grandda!! Papa!! Help!” Arcane cried, tears now streaming her face as she continued to shake her Mother. “Help me, please! Mammy, wake up!” Footsteps bounded down the hall and the bedroom door swung open. Grandfather! He could help! He could do anything! He could wake Mother up!

“What is it, dove? What’s wrong?”

Arcane sobbed. “It’s Mammy! She won’t wake up! Grandda, please help!”

Her grandfather gently pushed her aside, taking a seat next to his daughter and stroking her hair. “A leanbh? Ye’ve gotta wake up now. Arcane’s here, you’re scaring her. Suil? Suil, sweetheart?” Grandfather’s words wavered and caught in his throat. A quiet moment passed, Grandfather curled around Mother, his hands stroking her hair as he muttered to himself, perhaps a spell to wake her! Yes, that’s it! Grandfather would cast a spell, Mother would wake and be better than ever! Right?

Arcane waited, breathless, waiting for something - anything - to happen. Without another word, Grandfather stood and walked her out into the hall, motioning for her to head downstairs with her siblings. Arcane looked up at him, confused, her eyes bloodshot from tears. Grandfather’s face was grim, his face stained by his own tears.

“Go, now, dove. Go take care of your brothers and sisters. And send your father upstairs.” His voice was somber, his words barely above a whisper.

Arcane nodded, trudging down the stairs as her eyes stared blankly ahead. In the living room, her father sat in his chair, eyes fixated on his book as she approached.

“Papa? Grandda needs to see you upstairs.” She mumbled, shock setting in. “It’s about Mammy.... I- I think she-” Arcane’s words were cut off as her father barreled past her, footsteps quickly retreating upstairs. She, however, remained frozen, eyes staring dead-eyed in front of her. All sound fell away, all feeling lost, all time stopped. A moment felt like an eternity, the roaring silence in her mind nearly driving the young girl to madness. And then-

“No! No! It can’t be! You bastard, what did you do?! What did you do to my sweet Suil?!” Father’s voice rang throughout the house. The children stopped their ruckus. Only the sound of Father’s wailing and the crashing of his tirade filled the children’s ears.

Niamh and Maira began to screech, startled by their father’s rage. Arcane ran to their side and held them both in her arms. Father stormed down the stairs, bursting through the door into the stormy morning that awaited them. And he cried. Gods, did he cry. He wailed and shouted like a child throwing a tantrum, breaking and throwing anything unlucky enough to get in his hands.

It wasn’t long until Grandfather made his way downstairs, all light cast out of his once cheerful eyes. The children turned to face him, fear, confusion, and worry filled their eyes as they stared. Grandfather sucked in a shaky breath, before saying the words every child wishes to never hear.

“Your mother is dead.”

The day was cold and overcast. It always seemed to rain in Daggerford, soaking the grey stone beaches and casting a saddening hue over the town, like the ever-breaking tide threatened to swallow you whole, keeping you tied to this land forever. And it was just so, ever true for Arcane. This town, her home, once a place filled with laughter and joy, was now empty and cold. The tide crashed against the stony shore, rain soaking through Arcane’s cloak, setting a dark chill in her bones. It was the darkest day to end all dark days.

Her Mother was dead.

Her Mother, Suil, a once beautiful, shining light in the world, was now reduced to a cold, stiff corpse that lay wrapped in cloth and heavy stone. Her mother, Suil, a beautiful elven woman, who taught her words of her and her father’s people, who always made the best meals, who saw the good in every situation, now lay dead in the little rowboat on the shore.

It didn’t take long for word of her passing to spread through the town. Word travelled fast in Daggerford. Those whose lives were touched, even for a moment, by Mother’s bright light showed up for the funeral, offering condolences and leaving letters or small trinkets in what would be Mother’s casket. Their words rang hollow in Arcane’s ears. No amount of “I’m so sorry for your loss” or “She’s in a better place” would ever replace the fact that she’s not here! It made her angry, it filled her mind with blazing rage! They didn’t know Mother! They didn’t know how she liked her tea! They didn’t see how she sang like a ringing bell while she cooked! They didn’t see how much she cared and supported Arcane with her magic. They didn’t see her at the end! No one came to visit! It was Arcane who was with her! It was she who walked in to find her dead! And all they could say was, “I’m sorry”?!

Arcane could’ve sworn she was steaming with all the white-hot rage that burned inside of her! She wanted all of them to go away! She wanted everything to stop!

Grandfather knelt down to plant one last kiss on his daughter’s head.

‘Wait, stop!’

He began to push the little boat onto the water, knees shaking as he did so.

‘Stop! Please!! Don’t!’

With one last push, he clambered into the boat, rowing away. Rowing away from shore, away from home!

‘Stop it! Don’t take my Mammy!’ Arcane ripped herself from her father’s side, racing down the shore.

“Arcane! Get back here!” Father called after her. She would not. She would never stop trying to get her mother back! She was hers! How dare the gods take Mother from her! How dare they!

“Mammy!!” Arcane cried out, pushing through the heavy waves that crashed against her legs as if the sea itself was refusing her entry. “Mammy!! Come back!” The cloud began to darken, nearly blocking out the sun, deep, growling thunder like a hungry beast.

Further, she pushed, the hungry waters beating against her small frame, daring to drag her under. She cried, gods, did she cry. Calling for her mother, only to be met by claps of thunder, only to be silenced by mouthfuls of salty water. She refused to give up! She couldn’t! That was her mother! Her arms slapped against the water, helplessly reaching for her mother as waves forced her down with such strength only nature could possess. It didn’t take much for the sea to subvert its dominance over the young girl, thrusting her head deeper, ever deeper, into the black depths, filling her mouth and lungs with its sanguine drink. For if she wanted to be with her mother, the water would take Arcane down with her.

In the moment, Arcane was okay with this. She was okay with being dragged deeper underwater, down to sunless fathoms below. If this was how she would see her mother again.... She was okay with dying.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans for her. Desperate hands fisted her cloak and from the murky water, she was brought back to the air, breaking to the surface with such a sharp gasp, her lungs threatened to burst. Arcane clawed desperately at the water, hands outstretched, reaching for the little rowboat that had now shrunk in size. Her frantic eyes darted behind her, who would dare take her back to shore?! It was her father! He hauled the drenched girl back to shore, slapping her hands away as she threw them back to hit him. She hated him! She hated what he was doing! She couldn’t go back to land!

With one last hard shove, her father practically threw her onto the rocks, her knees left bloody by the impact. Arcane ran to push past him, but he grabbed her, holding her tightly in his arms. She struggled against her father, slapping his face, kicking his stomach, fighting with everything she had to get back to the water.

“Arcane. Arcane! That’s enough!!” He fell to his knees and practically throttled her, grabbing her shoulders roughly and shaking her. “Enough of this, you hear me?! She’s gone! Your mother is dead! She’s fuckin’ dead!” The sound of his screaming left a ringing in her ears and sent daggers into her heart. She stared back at him, the same seafoam eyes she’d inherited filled with so much rage, dare she say it - hate.

Arcane opened her mouth to argue back, yet all she could muster was a pitiful half-whimper, half-strangled gasp. Her eyes peered over her father’s shoulders, just in time to see her grandfather tipping her mother’s corpse into the sea, sinking quickly from the heavy rocks, dragging her down to her final, watery grave.

It was too much! All of this was far too much for any little girl to bear! All the shock, the rage, the drowning grief balled itself inside her chest. She felt her fingers burn with electric fire, every nerve from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head roared like a monster against its cage. And with a deep, resounding inhale that seemed to suck all air from the sky.... She screamed.

Her cries echoed towards the Heavens. Her heartbreak shook the very ground she stood on. Her body burned with white-hot swirls of pure Weave that emanated from the very core of her soul, enveloping her in the purest, rapturous glow of magic. Her eyes were aflame with a blue light. She heard her father yelp in pain and snatch his hands away from her, recoiling at the sight of his wailing child. She continued to scream ‘til the very earth beneath her feet cracked and split. And then.... Darkness took her.

Translations and pronunciations:

Súil: Pronounced like "shool", taken from the song Siúil a Rúin, meaning "hurry, my love"

Lorcan: Pronounced like "Law-kuhn"

Ruairí: Pronounced like "Rory"

Naoisa: Pronounced like "Nee-Shuh"

Maira: Pronounced like "My-ruh" (literally just Maria with the I moved)

Naimh: Pronounced like "Nayve" or "Neev"

"A stór": Pronounced like "Uh Stohr", meaning "My treasure"

"diabhal beag": Pronounced like "Dee-uh-bool" "Bee-uh-g", meaning "little devil"

"A leanbh": Pronounced like "Uh Lan-uv", meaning "my child"

[worldssmallestghost]

Ibara should exist, actually

Hey, another little essay about a book series that hardly anybody even thinks about anymore, but I do!

If you're a fan of the Pendragon Adventures series, you're likely aware of the... Ibara paradox. If you're not, let me explain:

In the book series, it's explained that there are "travelers" from each "territory", which are different times and places in the vastness that is the greater universe, called Halla. The main antagonist, Saint Dane, has the goal of throwing each of these territories into chaos by forcing them to go against their set timeline. Most of the time, he loses and moves on, but sometimes he succeeds and gets stronger. He views his losses as inevitable wins, as each fallen territory is like a domino effect.

Book four brings upon his first win.

He relies on the local traveler's knowledge of the world in order to trick her into programming a computer virus that is supposed to make people realize that the virtual utopia of "Life light" isn't perfect so they'll willingly leave their perfect worlds to keep their real world alive and functioning. However, Saint Dane's trick is that it straight up kills people before they can get out. The world falls and, is implied to have created a separate timeline and whole new territory in the form of Ibara, a distant future version of itself.

Travelers are not of the worlds they inhabit. They are, for all intents and purposes, gods that maintain order without having any personal effect on Halla. Saint Dane, being one of them that broke order and left, wants to watch it all burn so he can become the ultimate god. Aja is a traveler, and thus, by series logic, she's not supposed to have effect. She was never supposed to exist to create the virus (the reality bug).

Hence where people start screaming "PLOT HOLE!". And I have been guilty of that until recently.

Saint Dane has never been the kind of man to create problems. He just exacerbates them. In book three, he messes with the morality of the travelers by forcing them to leave the Hindenburg to its fate. The Hindenberg was supposed to explode. In book two, is one of the few times he gets as close to creating a problem for a while. Poisoning fertilizer that the ship-inhabiting people of Cloral need.

I believe that Saint Dane just pours gasoline on turning points to accelerate things. Like putting nitrous-oxide in a car to make it careen into a wall. It's the speed that makes it hard to turn things the right direction.

Ibara was always going to happen. Veelox was doomed from the get-go. Saint Dane, time and time again, puts down humanity by calling us selfish and self destructive. In The Quillan games he breaks Bobby down by telling him that it's just human nature to refuse change. The people of Veelox wouldn't want to leave Lifelight, why would they? They get to have perfect dreams forever until they die. Reality can be whatever they want.

The Reality Bug was just to speed things up. Forcing a slightly different version of Ibara to exist.

"What about Aja Killian helping with the creation of Rayne? If she removed herself from the equation, how could she have been there to help people build a better future?" I think that, alongside Saint Dane speeding up the inevitable, Aja was never supposed to be the person leading the charge, it was supposed to be someone else much later. She was forced to fill a role that would eventually be taken by someone else under different, but similar circumstances down the road.

The series has, in my opinion, never made itself quiet about its ideas of how important fate is. Even after the travelers are given the chance to either go back to being immortal spirits, or mortals, they just live normal, unexceptional lives. Like a tiny little bug in a much bigger program, a little quirk that in the end, changes pretty much nothing.

Anyway, if you made it this far, damn, I'm sorry you had to put up with my fan theory for a very, very small fandom lmao. But thank you.

[claudeng80]

Caught (Childhood Friends/Pokemon AU)

The sun is just coming up, the castle spires of Tanbarun casting long shadows across the river. Nanaki yawns, because it was not his idea to be up this early, but Cubone has enough energy for the both of them. He chases Oddish in circles, over and under a fallen log in a game Nanaki is far too sleepy to make sense of.

There’s a flat spot on the log just big enough for him, and there’s plenty of time for a nap- 

“Are you going to help me or not?” The princess is too buried in a plant to put her hands on her hips, but the position is implied in the tone. He's heard it more than enough, before and after he left home, to mistake it for any other.

“You said I didn’t have to dig in the dirt, but you didn’t tell me what to do,” he says. “Guess that means I get to take a nap…” He pretends to close his eyes, watching her through his lashes as she wriggles back out of the bush.

“Please!” It’s not often she begs for help, and it startles his eyes right back open, gold meeting green for just a second before her gaze skitters away. He gets a great view of the stick tangled in her hair, more dirt than red at the moment, and Shirayuki points up into a tree. “The fruit. Up there. I need some for this recipe.”

“Potions aren’t that expensive at the store. I don’t see why you don’t like them.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them-” She avoids his eyes again. “It’s just good to have options and save money for emergencies. And maybe if I keep studying, I can make something even better-”

“Like a max-potion?”

“Nanaki…” He tries not to grin, but she is too cute when she whines. “Will you get me the fruit already?”

The tree’s barely even a challenge. He swings up to the first branch, easy as climbing stairs, and sticks the first one he can reach into his pocket. “You could have just climbed up here yourself. You’re taller than you were when you got here.”

Her voice is a little muffled as she dives back into her plant, looking for something underground. “Um, I don’t know how to climb trees.”

***

The night is quiet, not even the rustle of a leaf breaking the stillness. Obi adjusts the scarf around his face and watches the light from the fire die down to nothing. If the redheaded girl doesn’t get her gym badge, she’s going to stay here when the others move on. She’s stubborn; nobody who makes it this far isn’t.

But without her pokemon, there won’t be much she can do.

The prince, the source of all the problems, sleeps closest to the fire. He’s got a sword laid across the grass at his fingertips; it would bring a pretty penny too, if Obi had enough hands for it. But he’s here for a particular job, and sum he’s owed for it will cover that and more.

The older grass-haired boy and the blonde girl don’t twitch as Obi sneaks past them. The noble who hired him insisted they were guards, keeping harm from coming to the prince, but so far he’s not very impressed with their vigilance. He can’t resist a little dance step, right there in the middle of their camp, and nobody is awake to notice.

Immediately he feels a bit silly. He should get this over with and get out of here. He’ll drop off her pokemon at some center where she’ll never think to look. They’ll be taken care of, then either get adopted or released, whatever’s best for them. Nobody’s going to get hurt and he’s going to be rich.

The girl might have gone to sleep holding the strap of her bag, but her hand’s drifted away to the edge of her blanket. He just needs to support the bag so the balls don’t rattle and that will be that, she can’t possibly go on without any of her companions. Silently he pulls on the strap to slide the bag away from her grip, then gently starts to lift it from the grass-

“ODD!” Beyond the first circle of light, a tiny patch of leaves waggles in alarm. He’s been careless not to check, because of course the four of them could only sleep with a nocturnal pokemon left on night watch.

Her eyes fly open with alarm, and he has to wonder if her Oddish hit him with a Charm without him noticing. Surely he would have known all along if it were her. If he’d known-

No, he doesn’t lie to himself. perhaps he suspected all along, but hunger is a powerful persuasion. He could never forget her. But he has to eat. He tightens his hand on the strap and yanks the whole bag up, no longer worrying about the noise. With Oddish shouting its leaves off, all he has left in his favor is their confusion. He’s got to run for it.

“Wait!” she shouts and flails, missing his fleeing heels by a mile. She never was fast, trailing along behind him. She’d get there long after he did, but she never gave up. It doesn’t help her here. “Oddish! Use Sweet Scent!”

He was always much better at the catching than at the training, himself. He’s still several steps from the cover of the forest before there’s a giant blow to his back, sending him tumbling into the leaves. Pokeballs fly everywhere.

Down in the leaves, Obi’s held down, then forcibly flipped. He’s outnumbered, there’s no getting around that, and they’re far better prepared than he was counting on. He lets himself go limp, and a hand tears off his scarf. A pale face snarls down at him, the prince too eager to let his guards do his dirty work. “Who are you?”

Obi doesn’t answer right away. He watches Shirayuki’s face, waiting for the moment she realizes what depths he’s sunk to, how her childhood friend she’d looked up to once is a fraud at heart. But she looks at him with no more than curiosity, and he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that a few inches of height and a few years of hunger are enough to make him someone new. Apparently never intending to quit lasted her no longer than it did him.

Or perhaps he never meant as much to her as she did to him. “Nobody important,” he says, forcing a grin onto his face.