#if the last part seems oddly specific YES its happened to me before!!!!!

[invisibleoctopus]

one thing that always bothers me about gatekeepers/fakeclaimers who are like "we're just making sure people who ACTUALLY have these problems get help we only accept REAL mentally ill people" is that this kind of shit turns away ppl who are questioning and need help with whatever Thing they have going on and it in fact hurts "the REAL not-fakers who ACTUALLY have this mental illness/neurodivergence" who might be discouraged from accessing help because theyre the type of mentally ill that gets terrified of being labeled a faker just for simply being wrong about which mental illness they have

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 8

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language? Warnings: None? I think? Please let me know if I missed something Notes: Bit of fluff with some anxiety/update on primary conflict. Next chapter will be a cute date with Dani, the one after that will be maximum h*rny, and then what will likely be the finale. Music for this chapter here. PS this one is a bit on the shorter side, but I hope y'all still enjoy it. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony

Chapter 8: Obbligato

(Obbligato: An instrumental part which is essential in a piece of music)

“Okay, okay, serious this time, please? I’ll give you a kiss if you try hard enough,” you promised, grinning up at Daniela as you did. A week had passed since your talk in the library, with the two of you spending most days together, and you were progressing nicely with the musical lessons. Still, your girlfriend (you would never get tired of saying that word) was prone to getting a tad ‘distracted’. By you, usually. Not that it was intentional by any means. There was only so much you could do to keep her focused when the two of you were this close together.

“I could just kiss you anyway,” Daniela teased, leaning in with familiar intent. Right before your lips touch, however, she pulls back and smirks. “But if you insist, I can handle the challenge.” Then she’s turning back towards the piano, carefully finding the starting position. Even with her prior experience, you were impressed with how much she had already learned, and couldn’t help but be immensely proud of her. If anyone could meet Lady Dimitrescu’s expectations within a three month timeframe, it was the two of you. Except, of course, you still had to double-check just what her expectations were.

In the meantime, you were excited to hear your girlfriend play through the sheet music you had written up. Most of what you were working with had come from the family’s storage room, but you had also found some blank sheets, and figured it couldn’t hurt to create songs of your own. This particular one was relatively simple. It had been based on a song from a game you had played years ago, and only posed a moderate challenge due to its interesting rhythm. Daniela had seemed to enjoy playing it, with you even hearing her practice the song outside of your lessons, but had so far today refused to play it seriously.

Finally that was going to change. Once she found the starting notes, she nodded to herself, then started playing. For the first time today her expression is stern, focused. Seeing her like this was nice. She was always cute, you just thought that she was extra cute like this. But you tried not to let yourself get too distracted, knowing that you couldn’t give her feedback if you didn’t pay attention. In your head you “play along”, fingers miming the movements, knowing that it would help you catch any possible mistakes. Throughout the piece there are only a couple that you catch, none of them being severe enough to ruin the experience. Finishing with a little flourish, Daniela returns her gaze to you, grinning expectantly.

“Well? I seem to recall you promising me a reward,” she said, perking a brow. Laughing a little, you roll your eyes, before moving in to give her exactly what she wanted. Both of you are smiling into the kiss, enjoying every moment of it. Soon enough Daniela is running a hand through your hair, and pressing against you more, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. You’re blushing hard now, thoughts going everywhere other than music. It’s not until you pull back for air that you remember what you’re supposed to be doing right now.

“As wonderful as this is… we still have a few more songs to go over,” you murmured, despite how much you wanted to keep kissing Daniela. By the way she groaned in frustration, you figured she felt the same way, more or less. “Hey, don’t fret too much. Think of this as an opportunity to earn a few more rewards,” you teased, gently patting her on the shoulder. For a moment she simply pouts, but eventually she sighs and gets ready to play another song…

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

Rushing up the steps, practically two at a time, you desperately hoped that you wouldn’t be late. This was your third “update meeting” with Lady Dimitrescu, which by itself was enough to make you a nervous wreck. Add in the fact that this was the first time you’d be meeting alone? And in her personal study, no less? Well, it was safe to say that you were terrified. You hadn’t even been told why things were different this time. No, you were about as clueless as could be, given the circumstances.

By the time you make it your Lady’s study, you cannot tell whether your heart is racing due to stress or physical exertion. Regardless, you make it there in short time, arriving precisely at the scheduled hour. After taking a moment to settle your nerves, you briefly knock on the chamber door. There’s the sound of movement from inside before the way opens. Lady Dimitrescu has to bend a little to see out, but quickly smiles when she meets your gaze. Which was rather unexpected. The last time you had met with her she had been distanced, although still polite. Then again, Daniela had also been with you, and the focus was, as always, on her.

“Lady Dimitrescu,” you greeted, giving a short bow per customs. Then you were being waved in, brought over to a small sitting area, where you waited for permission to sit down. Once it was given, you relaxed a little. Maybe I don’t have as much reason to be nervous as I thought, you muse.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. There are no reasons for you to be unsettled, as far as I am aware,” Lady Dimitrescu said, smile disappearing for a moment at the end. But it’s back as quickly as it had vanished. Did she suspect something? Perhaps she had seen the way Daniela looked at you, or even overheard the whisperings of your roommates. Both thoughts do little other than renew your anxiety. Noticing this, Alcina frowns and shakes her head. “I was merely joking. Now, let us get to the reason for our meeting: How are Daniela’s lessons fairing? There is only so much I can glean from listening.” Glad to have something to think about other than your secret relationship with your boss’ daughter, you nodded and began explaining.

“Lady Daniela is making outstanding progress, in my opinion. Even with her occasional… lapses in attention, once she puts her mind to something, she’s quick to master it. At this point she can sight read nearly as fast and accurately as myself. However, we’re still going over vocabulary, as well as keys and their corresponding chords,” you answered, barely able to maintain eye contact with your employer. Thankfully, she seems to have accepted the inevitability of your nervousness. You were especially thankful now that you prepared to ask her a question. “My Lady, may I inquire about what specifically you expect from my teachings? If there are certain genres you wish for Daniela to be familiar with, or techniques-... I must admit I am unsure as to how to best meet your requirements.”

Slowly reclining in her chair, Alcina appears to ponder your question. In the meantime she sips at her beverage, holding the cup as if it were a fragile heirloom (which it could very well be), eyes looking into the middle distance. Then she gives a soft hum, setting her cup down and returning her attention to you.

“I suppose I can understand your concern. In some ways you have already exceeded my expectations,” she said, expression oddly plain in comparison to her positive phrasing. “My daughter has rarely invested herself in anything as much as she has in your lessons. For this, I am left wondering what she finds so captivating- the music, or the one who pulls the strings?... But that is not the answer to your inquiry, is it?” In that moment, you are incredibly still, willing yourself to keep a straight face, despite the racing of your heart. At your silence, Alcina perks a brow, expecting you to respond. You can’t, your mouth suddenly dry. “What I expect is a passion to educate, a drive to see my daughter flourish. I expect you to teach her exactly as much as she wants you to, focusing on whatever brings her the most joy. But I expect professionalism. Your duties come first, above your health, happiness, and all other desires. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Lady. Of course, my Lady,” you replied, stuttering, eyes wide. Did she know? Or merely suspect?... There’s another thought, one you try desperately not to voice, only to hear the words fill the room before you can stop yourself. “May I ask where Lady Daniela’s desires fit into this?” Silence hangs heavy over the room for several seconds. Your employer has narrowed her eyes, lips curled downwards into a sharp scowl, watching you with thinly-veiled anger. All you can do is gulp and wait for her response. When it comes, you are surprised by the stability of her tone. It was almost as if she respected your gall.

“She is young still, with the mind of a lovesick maiden. Daniela does not know what she wants, not really, nor does she understand what she needs. If her… flirtatious nature begins to interrupt your instruction, then your response must be swift, and uninterested. Regardless of how unkindly she takes your rejection, I will ensure that she does not harm you,” Lady Dimitrescu said, giving a stern nod at the end. Though her tone was reassuring, you hardly felt better, considering you were far past the point of turning Daniela down (if anything, you had only turned her on). “Now, with that settled, I believe I should let you return to your duties. Oh, and do tell Cynthia that the tea she brewed was perfect, should you happen to see her.”

Then she looked away, practically ignoring your continued existence. So you rose to your feet, gave another bow, and left before your panic could devolve into a breakdown. Daniela is not going to be happy about this.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 15]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, softdom!seungcheol, blowjob, cum swallowing, restraints/blindfold, daddy!kink, dirty talk, v little hair pulling, orgasm control, squirting, sex toys 😗💕 hope y’all are having a good weekend! As you can see, with this chapter comes the decided amount of chapters 😭 which means! cherry bomb ends on jan. 1st! 😭😭😭 I’m sad about it but!! excited to start the new year with some new projects too!! and I promise it won't be the last of this au either (I'll upload and talk abt a new schedule when it gets closer to time)💕💕 Thank you, as always, for your support with Cherry Bomb and I’m glad some of us have had pavlovian responses when we hear the term now LOOOL😩💕 Enjoy ch15 and have a great weekend! see u tomorrow for the last intro post! 💕🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - x - x - x - x - x 

Seungcheol takes it as a blessing that he doesn’t work on the weekends.

You do your camshow on Friday and upload prerecorded content on Saturday which leaves two whole days of relaxation that the two of you enjoy.

But Monday comes quicker than you anticipate and Seungcheol drops you off to work before he heads back to the roller rink; ignoring the multitudes of texts it seems Jeongguk is sending.

I’ll be at work in 30 minutes, he thinks.

“I’ll be back to pick you up after work, baby!”

You nod back, blowing Seungcheol a kiss through the window before you turn to leave.

Seungcheol’s phone rings 3 more times, brows furrowed.

‘It can wait.’

“Hyung, we’re in trouble… Maybe?”

Jeongguk’s big puppy eyes stare back at the older male and he can already feel the blood draining from his face at the potential reasons that the younger male would even say that. “Um… is---is this pertaining to why you tried calling like 14 times?” Jeongguk nods, tugging on Seungcheol’s shirt and pulling him in closer.

“Before you say anything… Namjoon-hyung didn’t find out, did he?”

“Find out about what?”

“That I… cam… I don’t want to get fired because I--”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, “Listen, I’m gonna be real, I don’t think he cares. The problem is… remember that dude that came in? A couple weeks ago. Lookin’ for a job.”

Seungcheol nods slowly; trying to remember the male’s name. “Seok--something, right?” Jeongguk nods.

“Apparently, he came back, and at the right time too. Namjoon hired his ass on the spot and he starts tomorrow. I heard from Seokjin.” Confusion crosses Seungcheol’s features as he stares and waits for Jeongguk to continue. “... And? How is that trouble for us?”

Jeongguk lets out an over dramatic sigh, hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders. “Nevermind, I forgot you’re making bank on those videos. I was gonna say, we might get a pay cut! Or maybe Joon-hyung’s trying to replace us but I guess that’s not a ‘you’ problem.”

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, shaking his head before patting Jeongguk’s hands.

“You’ll be okay. I don’t think anyone is coming for your concession stand job.”

The next day when Seungcheol makes it to work, he can’t help but have a weird feeling in his gut.

Much like the time when he first met Jun, there’s an indescribable feeling bubbling up in his body that he can’t seem to shake off once he arrives at the roller rink and the sight of Jeongguk with the new employee doesn’t help to settle the feeling at all.

Just before he can make his escape, the younger male waves him over; a cheery smile plastered on his face when Seungcheol starts walking over.

“Hyung! It’s the new employee!”

So much for panicking about being replaced, Jeongguk.

Seungcheol smiles at the other male, introducing himself swiftly before extending a hand to shake. “Ah! I remember you! I’m Seokmin! I’m the same age as Jeongguk!” Seungcheol’s lips part as he nods in understanding; that had been why Jeongguk seemed so okay with it all of a sudden.

Seokmin’s eyes form crescents when he smiles and Seungcheol takes a second to do a once over of the other male; noting the pins tacked to his denim jacket. His eyes hone in on a specific one, narrowing once he realized what it was.

It’d been a while ago now, but when you’d hit 5k subscribers to your camming channel, you had made only three of the same pin, which you had raffled and only gave to three winners.

By nature, Seungcheol was one of them, and the other two were ‘xcaliburDK’ and ‘gentleman_josh95’. Seungcheol could deduce from usernames alone that this wasn’t ‘Josh’ so it only left one option left; albeit Seokmin didn’t add up to the username either.

“Hyung? Hyung, are you okay? You’re spacing out.” Jeongguk waves a hand in the elder’s face as Seungcheol shakes himself from his thoughts.

He’d just have to figure it out later.

Although, he can already feel the groan spilling from his lips.

Why was everyone popping up now?

When he picks you up from work, later that afternoon, he can already tell something is off about you too.

You slink into the passenger’s seat of his car, quiet and a little jittery. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He comments, watching as you fumble with the seatbelt.

“Yeah it’s just… Can we talk about it when we get home? I think I’m still recovering from the weird experience I had earlier.”

Nodding, Seungcheol reaches over, placing his palm in yours in a means of comforting you; even just a little.

“Guess we both have had weird days, huh?”

You can’t thank Seungcheol enough for how patient he is.

He doesn’t say a word in the car and lets you have your quiet, cool down time before you get home.

But when the lock slides into place and you finally plop down onto the bed, you know it’s finally time to have the talk that you knew was brewing.

“I met another one of my regulars at the diner today.” You mumble; beating Seungcheol to the punch of him asking.

“Weird, I think I ran into one of your regulars at the roller rink today too. He works there now, by the way.”

The two of you share an awkward laugh as Seungcheol lays down next to you; neither of you bothering to change out of your outside clothes as you bask in the oddly similar occurrences. “Wouldn’t happen to be ‘universe_WZ’ would it? He came by the diner earlier, ‘just passing through town’ he said. It was so weird though, y’know? Him and Jun kinda got along ‘cause apparently they’re born in the same year.” You smile at the memory, despite how odd it was at first. “He was quiet and Jun is very much not. I think he bailed earlier than he wanted ‘cause his ear was getting talked off. But he asked me for an autograph on the way out and some old lady stared at me. It was just… a little weird.”

Seungcheol laughs; somewhat glad that your experience hadn’t been as bad as he was expecting.

“How ‘bout you, ‘Cheol? What was that about him working with you?”

The male groans, sliding a hand down his features. “It was… somethin’ else.” You turn on your side to face him, raising a brow.

“Couldn’t be that bad, could it?”

Seungcheol laughs, but only in the way he knows that the next words out of his mouth will sound ridiculous, even to you.

“I’m not going to say who it is because I don’t want you to be extra weirded out. He’s an okay guy, very diligent about his work. But let’s just say I caught a glimpse of his wallpaper, which was you by the way. And when I asked him, ‘hey, is that your girlfriend?’, the fucker lied and said yes!”

It takes a second before you’re letting out a boisterous laugh; tears springing to your eyes at the hilarious encounter Seungcheol had experienced.

“You’re not mad!?” He comments, eyes wide as saucers as he watches you curl up in laughter. “I thought you’d be mad!” You wipe a tear from your eye, catching your breath before you turn back to Seungcheol who watches you in confusion.

“No way, that’s fuckin’ hilarious! And let’s be real, probably not the first time someone’s lied about me being their girlfriend, right? But I--he doesn’t know, does he? That you’re… y’know, ‘dom.cheol’?” Seungcheol blushes, cheeks blooming a pale pink when he thinks about it.

Would his voice be enough to give it away?

“I don’t… know? He didn’t say anything but neither did I, honestly. It was just… weird. And now I work with him so that’ll be fun. Can’t wait for him to tell me how cute his girlfriend is.” He grumbles.

“Awww, is widdol Swungcheol jealous?” You blink cutely back at him; a teasing smirk on your lips when you see him narrowing his eyes back at you.

“Watch it, brat. You know I can punish you at any time, right?”

“Try me, then~”

Seungcheol mentally logs into his brain and waits until your Wednesday show before he makes a move.

He brings his favorite silk ties from his closet and places them on the bed while you get changed; a sly smirk on his face.

“‘Okay, ‘Cheol I’m--whoa.” You bite your lip when you step out and see the array of ties and the vibrator already sitting on the bed. “Um… I take it that these are part of the show tonight?” You end with a shy giggle; body already warm at the way Seungcheol looks at you.

“Mmhmm. For the ‘lil jealous comment you made. What was it that you said? ‘Try me, then’?” He grins in a way that you know you’re screwed and you saunter up to him in hopes of maybe pacifying him a little.

“Too late to say that I take it back?”

“Waaaay too late, baby. Now, let’s get started.”

chwenon has donated $50

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

artist8hao has donated $75

artist8hao: she’s so pretty with her hands tied behind her back like that

angelhan: shibari next time???

universe_WZ: she’d be so pretty all tied up

universe_WZ: rly nice seeing u btw ;)

therealchan99: where tf are all of u seeing her!?!?? I need to go out more im lackin bro

alphagyu97: its the way u walk into every set up for me

Seungcheol chuckles under his breath, reading the comments with his hand tangled in your hair and your arms tied behind your back as you work your mouth up and down on his cock.

Before the show had even started, he had quickly rearranged the setup so that the camera was angled down towards the space in front of the bed instead of where it usually faced which was on top of the bed. You were a little confused at first when he had nodded and told you to start your camshow from the rug placed underneath you but it soon made sense when he had tied your arms behind your back and made you suck him off with your knees digging into the rug and a silk tie tied into a bow around your eyes to prevent you from seeing.

“Shibari, huh? Ooh, wouldn’t it be a treat for your viewers if you did a show where you were all tied up? I’d have to start it for you, or maybe they’d like to watch the process and see how quickly I can get you to fall apart.” Seungcheol pauses; hips canting up slightly into your mouth as you swallow and gag around him. “We can make it an extra long camshow… Maybe a pay-per-view situation. They can watch you squirm and cum all night long while I keep a vibrator pressed against your clit until your cute body is trembling.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head even if Seungcheol can’t see it and you moan around his cock when you feel him throbbing in your mouth.

The sound of donations and comments is all you can go off of with your back towards the camera and your vision taken away; noting that the viewers must’ve liked the idea.

j__min has donated $150

j__min: popping in to say if u need help buying ropes, i know a guy ;)

alphagyu97: wait is this rly happening

alphagyu97: i’ll clear my schedule gentleman_josh95: yea same

xcaliburDK: i just started a new job i cant have any sick days plz… at least reupload it for me 😭😭

Seungcheol smirks when he reads that particular comment; fingertips massaging your skull when he hears you whining. “I know, baby. You wanna be fucked, huh? It isn’t nice being teased, right? So now you know how I feel~” In a blink of an eye, ‘xcaliburDK’s comment is buried and Seungcheol is thankful that you didn’t see it. He’d just have to keep it a secret for now while he played along and listened to what else Seokmin had to say about his so-called ‘girlfriend’.

You rub your thighs together; already feeling the slickness on them from how wet you already were and how long you’d been teasing and sucking his cock.

“Fuck, I could cum down your pretty ‘lil throat and then make you work for my cock. Drag your punishment out even longer than your viewers would see.” You moan around his cock in response and Seungcheol can only take it as a whiny ‘no’ before he’s pulling you off of him by the hair; soft sputters and coughs spilling from your wet lips as you catch your breath.

“But I think you’ve earned your orgasm, hmm? What do you say, princess?”

Your throat feels hoarse and your body feel obscenely hot at the way Seungcheol doesn’t seem to want to take off your restraints just yet. “Y-yes, daddy I--I want to c-cum… pl--please.”

tangerine_kwan: ahhh shes so cute

tangerine_kwan: petition for baby pink ties next time i think they suit her

sleepy_wonu: if that shibari show is happening, yes

“We’ll talk about it later, although I don’t think she’ll be opposed to it~” You furrow your brows; wondering what Seungcheok was referring to. 

You’d ask later.

“D-daddy…?”

Seungcheol tugs you slightly by your hair, urging you up as you slowly stand on shaky legs. You let him take the reins as he unties your arms and repositions you until you’re bent over the edge of the bed; left leg folded atop the bedsheets while your right leg keeps you upright. He keeps your blindfold on but lets you keep your arms loose; which you find out fairly quickly, is for good reason.

The buzzing of the vibrator makes you bite your bottom lip and soon enough, Seungcheol places the toy in your clammy hand.

“You’re gonna slide your hand under your body and keep that vibrator pressed against your clit while I fuck you. And you’re not allowed to cum unless I say so. Am I understood, baby?” You feel Seungcheol teasing you as he slides his cock through your soaking folds before circling the tip around your entrance.

“I expect a response when I ask you a question, sweetheart.”

“Y--yes, daddy, I--ah!”

Seungcheol grins as he slides his cock into your tight cunt; watching as you slowly sandwich your arm between your body and the bed sheets to place the vibrator against your clit. You cry out, a mess of sharp whines and jumbled words spilling off your lips with the combination of Seungcheol’s thrusts and the vibrations on your clit.

“Ngh, d--daddy! Fuck me m-more!”

Your other hand digs into the sheets, fingers tight around the fabric as Seungcheol fucks you from behind. He knows your body like the back of his hand and he quickly already has you on the verge of an orgasm despite only having started fucking you, moments prior.

“Don’t cum, princess~” Teasingly, he alternates from quick snaps of his hips that have his cock slamming into your g-spot to slow thrusts that have you remembering every groove and vein of his cock when he pulls out. And when he fucks you like this, it’s easy to forget the camera was even on and that people were watching; if not for the constant pinging of comments and donations that mix in with your moans, Seungcheol’s harsh breaths and the sound of the vibrator against your clit.

hoshi_tiger_xx: hmm but shes obv being punished and we all kno good girls dont get creampies

therealchan99: ur right,,, where should he cum then?

kitty_junjun: my votes on her tits

kitty_junjun has donated $75

sleepy_wonu: maybe all over her back and then post the pics in the private room

xcaliburDK: or raffle them!! I want them

chwenon: ooo cum in her mouth but dont let her swallow

chwenon: then u can raffle those pics or sth

Neither you nor Seungcheol are even paying attention to the comments that fly past on the screen and the only thing Seungcheol even turns slightly for, is to check to make sure he’s still properly out of frame.

He can already feel you tightening up around him and with the vibrator on your clit, he knows for a fact you won’t last much longer before you’re cumming.

“Hmm, princess, I can feel you getting so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum already, huh?”

“D-daddy, I dunno, ah, how--how much longer I can h-hold off…” You mumble; already feeling the tension in your body ready to snap at any second.

“Be a good girl. I said you earned your orgasm but you need to be patient.” You nod to the best of your ability; head feeling heavy and fuzzy as you try to stave off your orgasm for a little longer. “Y--yes, daddy…” He slows down his thrusts in order to help you a little and the soft praises that fall from his lips have the warmth blooming in your chest.

But it doesn’t last long because despite Seungcheol’s valiant efforts, you’re already too close to cumming to stop yourself when you feel the pressure building up too fast.

“Oh, d-daddy, I---I can’t, I---I can’t, I have, ah, to---to c-cum! Fuh--fuck, ‘m s--sorry!”

Seungcheol can’t even manage a word in before he feels his cock being forced out of your pussy and the wetness that squirts all over his cock and lower half. Loud cries and whines are all you can manage in the thrums of pleasure and the grip you have on the vibrator only tightens as you grind against the toy to ride out your high.

Seungcheol takes the time to wrap a hand around his cock as he strokes himself; body turned halfway towards the laptop to see what everyone was saying.

hoshi_tiger_xx: uh ohhh pretty baby came without permission

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

hoshi_tiger_xx: donation for squirting tho

alphagyu97: ugh look at her cute lil hole begging to be filled up

angelhan: bet she’s feeling empty rn huh

Your soft mewls have Seungcheol turning back to face you; eyes trained on your twitching body when the pleasure starts to ebb away and the overstimulation from the vibrator starts to bite. “Daddy… the---the, mmh, toy…”

“You can turn it off, sweetheart.” His tone is clipped and you already know you’re in for it once you manage to find the switch on the silicone toy. You turn it off and slide your hand from underneath you; palms flat against the sheets as you sniffle.

“I--I’m really s-sorry, I--I couldn’t--”

“I want you on your knees again, princess.”

Nodding shakily, you ease your bent leg down as you maneuver yourself onto your knees; hands already searching for Seungcheol before you hear his small ‘ah, ah, ah’s.  “Hands behind your back and tongue out, baby.” You follow his orders as you clasp your hands behind your back and diligently open your mouth and stick your tongue out as far as you can.

He brings his cock towards your face, tapping his cock head against your tongue before he starts to jerk himself off over your mouth and face. “I gotta hand it to you, princess. At least you apologized.” Seungcheol laughs under his breath, “But next time though? I won’t even let you have my cock.”

You whimper in return, brows furrowed under the silk tie.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum all over this pretty face.” His grip on his cock tightens and he thrusts into his palm quicker as he chases his high. “Don’t worry. I’ll take pretty pictures of your cum stained face.”

Seungcheol groans as he feels the coil in his body snapping and not a second later do you feel warm rivulets of cum hitting your cheeks and your tongue. Some of it manages to catch on the silk tie as you moan. The donations and comments pour in like water as Seungcheol continues to cover your face in cum and for the umpteeth time, you’re reassured that this was a path that worked out for you.

It was so silly that you’d thought of quitting camming earlier. 

Although, you never brought it up to Seungcheol.

In actuality, there were quite a few things that you’d never brought up to Seungcheol.

“Fuck…” He mutters from above you and it’s enough to bring you out of your thoughts as you hold still. Seungcheol takes the hint, using a sticky cum covered hand to reach for his phone to snap pictures of you; he’d just clean it up later.

“Say cheese~” He laughs, taking a couple photos before tossing his phone onto the bed as you draw your tongue back into your mouth and swallow down the warm salty substance that managed to hit your tongue.

Seungcheol helps you up from the floor, pouting when he sees how red your knees have gotten. “Hmm, think I need to take care of my princess after this.” He helps take your blindfold off and you’re quick to blink the fogginess away as  you try to focus on Seungcheol’s face before peering over to the laptop’s screen.

Your cheeks burn hot at the cum that still stains your cheeks when you see  yourself but the comments that flood in calling you pretty make you giggle.

“Ooookay. I think daddy is gonna get all cleaned up and I’ll wrap up here?” You check in with Seungcheol, who shoots you a nod and a small thumbs up before slinking completely out of the camera’s view.

“Okay guys, now what were you all talking about while I was on my knees?”

You get out of the shower feeling refreshed; tossing on a loose shirt before skipping out of the bathroom.

Seungcheol is cozied up on the sofa, waiting on the food that the two of you had ordered right after you ended your show. “‘Cheollie~” He turns to you as you plop down next to him and he’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders as he tugs you into his side.

“Feeling better?”

“Mmhmm~ A ‘lil sleepy but I can go for that food and then sleep.”

The two of you share a laugh, eyes focused on the movie that plays on the TV. “Say…” You start, “Someone asked a good question in the comments after you stepped out.” You gulp; palms a little clammy.

You just had to know.

“Yeah? Was it about the shibari camshow again?”

“No, actually…” You take a deep breath, telling yourself it’d be okay regardless of what he said.

“Seungcheol, am I your girlfriend?”

[hela-avenger]

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 14

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1480

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: Once again, apologies for the delay! And more apologies for what’s to come. 

Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

It’s only Natasha, Steve, and you in the lab. Everyone else was told to stay away for the meeting with Doctor Strange. He should be seeing you any minute now but you had yet to hear word from FRIDAY of his arrival to the tower. His incoming tardiness only served to amplify the tense silence in the room. 

Natasha and Steve were under the impression that you had no idea of the secret they were keeping when in reality you knew the real truth for Doctor Strange’s involvement. You had yet to tell them that you knew and you had already resolved not to confess that to them knowing their guilt would be too much to bear at the moment. 

Late or not, you just hoped that this doctor would be able to reverse the damage done and allow you to go back to the life you had. 

You were over the random confessions you pulled out of your friends and the constant fear of this power potentially killing you. You just wanted to return to your life as an Avenger who only had the power of your own human body to face the world. 

You were content in being normal. 

Yes, people lied to you and spoke half-truths. Yes, they kept secrets and withheld information. None of that was new, but being a lie detector… being able to sense all of that now was taking its toll. 

You longed for the days in which you were blissfully ignorant of all that. 

The clock strikes twelve and Natasha lets out a sigh.

“For a highly awarded surgeon, I would have sure hoped he knew the importance of being punctual…”

As the last words left her mouth, a gold ring starts to appear at the end of the room and a figure steps out. 

The man is donned in a red cape, blue robes, and a glowing amulet laid on his chest. 

“Agent Romanoff,” he greets. “I’m Doctor Strange. I believe we spoke on the phone.” 

Natasha smiles politely swallowing back her recent words, “Yes. Thank you for coming. We have a special case and we’re hoping you’ll be able to help us.” 

Doctor Strange glances at Steve who offers a nod in greeting before turning to look at you. He takes a step closer and you straighten up on your seat. He looks at you from head to toe with a calculating gaze.

“May I look at your hands?”

You offer them to him and he takes them into his own. You notice the array of scars and the slight tremble of his palms. 

The question burns in your mind of the story untold on his skin and he takes notice. 

“Car accident and multiple surgeries,” he answers as if he read your mind. “A lot of nerve damage. Not much could be done on the medical side.” 

“But the mythical had a solution?” you ask. 

Doctor Strange stops his inspection and looks into your eyes. For the first time since he’s appeared, he dons a small smile. 

“Yes,” he answers. 

You wish you could smile back. Doctor Strange seemed like a closed off character that held a hidden warmth. The makings of a good friend and future ally if need be. Except, you weren’t in the best of moods since Loki’s revelations the prior night. 

Doctor Strange releases your hands soon after. 

“When was the last time you used your siphons?” 

“Yesterday morning.” 

“And the stones haven’t been overcharged yet?” 

You look down at the palm of your hands and frown when you realize that the stones were sitting normally. Loki had warned you that you had to use your siphons daily to avoid overcharging and breaking them. 

With everything running in your mind, you hadn’t realized that alarming detail that laid so blatantly in your hands. 

“I- I didn’t notice,” you stammer out. “They should be lit up by this point…” 

Doctor Strange frowns. 

“What does that mean?” Steve asks. “Is her power fading away?” 

“Not at all. In fact, I would say it's the opposite,” Doctor Strange answers. “You were right, Agent Romanoff. It seems like her body has evolved to the point in which it is able to retain the power of Veritas. The siphons are still helpful but they will no longer become necessary for her.”

A silence accompanies his statement as Natasha and Steve turn to look at you. The secret they were keeping is out and it was obvious from your tired expression that you already knew about it. 

“That’s uh… That’s great,” you mumble. “Any way I can reverse what’s been done?” 

Steve and Natasha call out your name.

“We should talk about this…” 

You ignore them. You didn’t need to hear their explanation. You just wanted to hear a solution from the local expert.  

“Doctor Strange,” you speak again. “Is there any way I can go back to how I was?” 

He hesitates and you knew then that the answer would be no. 

“Had I been consulted earlier, perhaps something could have been done or at least the risks would be minimal, but as your body has been impacted and changed by this power any kind of reversal would wind up killing you. The power of Veritas is ingrained in your DNA now and if I were to remove it, I would remove your life essence too.” 

You block out the rest of his explanation. Not as if it was directed at you anymore seeing as Steve and Natasha were still asking questions and attempting to find a cure elsewhere. 

They’re all so focused on scrapping up a solution that you’re able to slip out of the lab without them noticing. 

You don’t know where you’re going. You blackout for a few minutes until your mind clears up enough to find yourself on Thor’s residential floor. Specifically, right in front of Loki’s room. 

You knock and Loki is quick to answer. 

“Little mortal,” he greets. “Meeting cut short?” 

You look up at him and a burning anger starts to burn deep inside you. 

“Tell me you didn’t know.” 

His amusement falters. His true feelings revealed now that the mask has fallen. Concern laced his features but you don’t care about the truth anymore.

“Didn’t know what?” 

“Tell me you didn’t know that this could have been reversed,” you tell him. “That I could have been back to normal had we consulted other sources. Tell me you didn’t know.” 

Loki remains silent and the mask rises again. You are quick to tear it down as you push him back. 

“Tell me the truth!” you yell. “Did you or did you not know?!” 

Loki glares down at you but you weren’t afraid of him. Your body was evolved to the same kind of strength and power that he had. You were equals now as much as you hated it. 

“So what if I did?” he asks in return. “You were presented a gift and look how blessed you are now. Your skills as a warrior are amplified by strength. You are immune to illnesses and mortal weakness. You are a truth-seeker and can pull out secrets and confessions from anyone.” 

Loki peers down at you.

“Thanks to me, you are a Goddess among men.” 

Your anger turns to rage. 

You don’t know if it’s because of the credit he’s handing to himself or that he admits to turning your life around for his own amusement.

No, it takes a second to realize that it’s because he’s lying to you.

He’s lying about everything. 

Loki knows that he is and you can’t comprehend why he would still do it when he knows you’ll sense it.

“You’re selfish,” you tell him. “And you’re cruel.” 

Loki feigns indifference but you can tell the damage you’re inflicting. You’re better than this but Loki has damaged you enough and you are done playing his game. 

“You used my situation to broker a deal, but the deal is done,” you tell him. “My body has evolved to the point that I will no longer die from this power. I will no longer need the siphons nor your guidance. From this day forward, you and I… we are no longer friends.”

You think you see fear in his eyes but it’s quickly gone and it intensifies your fury. 

As much as you hoped, Loki could not release himself from the role he’s chosen to play. 

You wanted him to fight. You wanted him to rip off that mask he’s always donning. 

Loki had never been a villain to you. Not until recently. 

He had always been honest with you but he’s stopped. You had no idea what changed and why he started to lie to your face so blatantly. 

It hurt and with this pain, you decided to wield it against him too. 

“Forget my name. Forget everything. We’re strangers again.”

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry @hufflautia @waitforthehurricanrose @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @sanniegirl1214 @telenari @anonymouscastiel12 @ddaeing @kanemilove @casualdreamerdreamer @dark-night-sky-99 @nickkie1129​ @mischiefmanaged71​ @help-i-need-a-social-life​ @moncheriemoony​ @citrineasguardian​​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow-blog @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox @heykathchuu @is-it-madness​ @writingletterstothefire​ ​@nonsensicalobsessions​

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @moonlightprime @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart @fandoms-allovertheplace @polireader​ @hufflautia

[t4tlawlight]

Occam's razor is the principle that, of two explanations that account for all the facts, the simpler one is more likely to be correct.

this post is going to cover traits specific to the manga and the television drama, since those are the best adaptations to showcase L’s autism. THIS POST is required reading before you read anything i’m about to type, because it explains what kind of character niche L falls into--an unintentionally autistic coded character. i’ll talk more about that at the end.

i’m going to talk about manga L first, since he’s the original version after all. i’m going to go in order of physical traits, to behavioral, to his character writing. also, tumblr eats posts that have outside links, so i’m going to have my non-tumblr sources in a separate post, here.

anyways, more under the cut!

MANGA/ANIME:

sitting with his legs up and spine bent / sitting on the floor

this is such a big one and its extremely common in ppl with autism. sitting in chairs normally is uncomfortable to outright painful w many ppl with these disorders, myself included. L sitting like that (which, to recall, is a blatant homage to sherlock holmes, another character that is so blatantly autistic coded you can find absolutely ridiculous amounts of writing on the topic) and being like "I HAVE TO SIT LIKE THIS TO THINK PROPERLY" is so autistic. like sitting in a certain way to give you specific sensory stimulus/avoid distracting discomfort and pain is a thing. i found this post (1) written by an autistic person on the topic of sitting in chairs being uncomfortable, and it says as much:

“I suspect that seating discomfort is common in autism (though by no means limited to autistic people). Many of us, particularly as children, benefit greatly from chairs designed to be non-stationary: rocking chairs, “fidget” chairs, and so forth. These can improve focus, compensate for proprioceptive hypo-sensitivity, and alleviate restlessness. In short, many “attention issues” can be fixed simply by providing a little motion for the person sitting. Small change, huge results. That's what accommodations do at their best. They make (often minor) adjustments that have profound impacts.”

so when L says that sitting the way he does, for a specific sensory experience, improves his ability to think, it’s perfectly in line with this idea. Also it’s a good pressure stim.

standing with a slouch / shifting his weight around

to begin: yes! it’s very common for autistic people to stand or walk oddly for a number of different reasons, from physical comorbidity to other issues such as dyspraxia (see: movie L). From an article by YAI (2), an I/DD (intellectual and/or developmental disabilities) community program:

“Kyphosis (a curved spine), collapsed chest, dropped shoulders and even scoliosis are observed in many of our patients. These myriad of postural issues may result from reduced strength, decreased biomechanical stability, or from a sensory impairment, such as apraxia. 

Depending on the scene, L has mild to severe kyphosis which is very common in autistic individuals. Other things mentioned in that article if you want to click on it is instability in standing, where you sort of shift your weight around a lot between your  feet or rest all of your weight on one foot, which L is literally doing the first time we see all of him.

speaking with a monotone voice.

i obviously can’t show a picture for this one and it honestly depends on the voice actor you find for L, but in the anime in particular L has a very flat tone. a lot of this is bc he has a dry sense of humor but. just know that it’s very common for autistic people to have a flat affect (or go the other way into being too loud/emotive).

his eating habits. 

a lot (a LOT) of autistic ppl myself included can only eat certain kinds of food for texture and flavor reasons. HOWEVER there’s a term in the autism community called “samefoods” which is really well put by tumblr users candidlyautistic and autism-asks: 

“Samefoods or samefooding is a community word to describe the autistic trait of eating the same food over, and over and over . . . It is part sensory, part routine driven in most cases. A lot of times we samefood because we need that particular mouthfeel / texture / taste, and a lot of times even after that need passes, it turns into a need for routine until you actively dislike that food again.”

“Samefooding on the other hand is closer to a special interest. When I have a samefood (chocolate ice cream, currently), I really, really want that food. I could eat that food endlessly and not get tired of it. I will get upset if I’m not able to have the food in a day. For me, it usually is kind of routine based as well. For instance, with my current samefood, I have some in the evenings and it’s become part of how I wind down from my day.”

we don’t know exactly why L specifically desires sweet food or if he considers it part of his routine, but what we do know is that he really wants to eat sweet food and avoids eating anything other than sweet food, so it could either be that he’s a picky eater and can’t handle savory or he’s samefooding on sweets!

wearing the same clothes

L wears the same clothes every single day. It’s also worth noting that what he does wear is baggy, too-big clothing, the kind that wouldn’t be tight and uncomfortable. once again, sensory issues are a huge thing for autistic individuals. one of my favorite aspects is that in no adaptation does he wear socks. even L wears shoes, he wears them like slippers, not putting them on all the way. people comment that he seems like he’s poor, but we know for a fact that he’s very rich and that wearing these clothes is a personal choice he made.

not caring for himself/outsourcing his self-care

i don’t think one day is exactly canon, rather it’s an exaggeration of what might actually happen--i.e. L doesn’t have a huge closet full of the same outfit, but he does have several versions of the same outfit on rotation; L doesn’t use a human washing machine, but Watari might help him/encourage him to bathe regularly. One Day is a parody comic, but it was made by the creators for a reason and that reason is that L pretty obviously relies on a caretaker (Watari) for his personal needs. Watari, in the manga proper, cooks and cleans and does most things for L. we’ll come back to this topic when we get to the drama though.

doing stimming behaviors

if you don’t know what stimming is, it refers to self-stimulating behaviors, usually involving repetitive movements or sounds. everyone stims to some extent, but in autism it tends to be more obvious, go on for longer, and sometimes be more disruptive to others. it’s often used to help deal with sensory overload, or used to express feelings--think of an autistic person being happy and flapping their hands in the air.

there are a LOT of instances of L displaying stimming behavior, from stacking his food or things on his desk, to spinning in his chair, to biting his fingers/using them to press on his lips, to wriggling and tapping his toes. here are some specific instances:

there are a lot more. i’ll talk about more when we get to dramaverse, but if you rewatch/reread death note it’s definitely worth noting whenever L does something like this!

detective work as a special interest

ok, first and foremost i want to establish what a special interest is. Tumblr user cartoon has my favorite explanation of what a special interest is that i’ve seen to date: 

“To have a deep, intense, passionate and incredibly focused / narrowed interest in a certain area of study, subject, topic or thing - to the exclusion of other interests. This interest is something that exists for the long-term, most often lasting for multiple months, years, or even you’re entire life “

L says that he only does detective work because it’s a hobby, and he finds it entertaining. We’ve also seen that he’s been at it for quite some time--if you take side content (the wammy’s house comic, LABB) seriously, then he’s been at it since childhood, with unwavering interest. it definitely comes across to me as L having a special interest in detective work, rather than it just being a normal hobby or a job for him, especially since he says it isn’t out of any moral obligation.

germaphobia

Germaphobia is very common for individuals with autism. a lot of the time it’s actually sensory issues associated with “dirty” things, and a lot of the time it’s because features of OCD are heavily comorbid with autism, including contamination OCD and such fears. regardless of the reason, though, L’s aversion to touching Bad Things is a very autistic behavior, and so is his resulting quirk that he tends to hold things in a very odd manner!

muted emotional expression

this is getting more into L’s character, but L tends to feel and express emotions in a very muted way. not to say he doesn’t have them, but for instance in the example above, L doesn’t have a solid grasp on what exactly he’s feeling. he thinks he might be acting irrationally and overemotionally because he logically should be afraid, but he isn’t sure, and none of these emotions present themselves visibly. 

i’ve also seen it said that Ukita’s death is another good example of his muted response to emotion--he tells Aizawa to stay rational and his voice doesn’t waver as he tells him as much, but he holds himself tightly. for someone with poor emotional competence, these physical signs of distress can be hard to read in oneself, but Aizawa (a man who is extremely in-tune with his emotions) can tell immediately.

high logic, low empathy

L is also a character who, like many autistic people, lacks a certain degree of empathy. it’s not that he doesn’t have any, but it’s limited enough--and he values logic over it enough--that he’s willing to make extreme decisions and take a “ends justify the means” approach (such as using people as bait.) in the example above, L takes a moment to work through what it must actually feel like, which rings as very autistic.

bluntness/not caring about social convention

there are so many examples of this i honestly could list them all day, but L is a character who is very to-the-point and doesn’t care about mincing his words. he can be outright rude to the people around him, especially if he considers them not worth basic courtesy. see: Matsuda. 

DRAMAVERSE

if you all knew me you should have known this section is inevitable. i’m not going to talk about every single adaptation because i do not have the time and the only other adaptation that is meaningful in that regard is the movieverse (i am fairly certain that movie L is dyspraxic) but on account of the fact that i don’t care about them i won’t subject you all to them here.

anyway, drama L shows much the same traits as animanga L above (they are, after all, technically the same character) but he displays them in different ways. 

he has a much more advanced degree of germaphobia, with Watari saying he’s sensitive to outside air and spraying everyone who enters his space with disinfectant, but not making them wash their hands or anything like that, so we can kind of tell that his issues are more rooted, again, in a fear of germs rather than any actual medical issue. he wants to feel as though he is clean, not necessarily actually be clean. this is very common in contamination OCD, which has a high comorbidity with autism. (my girlfriend has a very good headcanon post about drama L and OCD that isn’t so much analysis than just plain fun, but it’s worth a read!)

he stims, but he has a different array of stims than animanga L--he chews on his jelly pouch bottles, 

he tosses it between his hands, 

he kicks his feet,

and he bounces in his chair.

he still sits in an unconventional manner. he still samefoods, this time even more exclusively--he only eats Lucky Charge jelly pouches and nutritional bars. Watari onscreen puts his shirts on for him, as well as cooking, cleaning, and mending his clothes for him.

however, there are a few traits that are drama-exclusive that i think really add to an analysis of his autism!

social scripting

social scripting and echolalic scripting are both commonly described as “scripting,” but are very different! echolalic scripting is like echolalia, but echolalic scripting is the recitation of longer passages of dialogue from things the individual has heard before. but social scripting is when you memorize common conversations so you can rattle it off without worrying too much! this can be very handy, such as exchanging basic pleasantries or ordering food, but it can also backfire if someone responds in a way your script’s not set up for. you can find more information on the difference in this video (3). 

now, this relates to L in that there are two separate scenes where L says the same thing, rather inappropriately:

L: When I consider Kira’s personality, could it be that the strong-willed daughter is Kira? Or could that sweet-looking son of yours surprise us by proving to be him? You never know what humans are hiding beneath the surface... Soichiro: Enough. L: Sorry. It was just a joke.

-- Episode 2

L: Light-kun. Oh, I’m sorry... If I called you “Yagami-san,” it would be the same as what I call your father.  Light: That’s okay. Call me whatever you want. L: Then what about Kira? (silence) L: It's a joke.

-- Episode 4

one could say that L just has a terrible sense of humor--and, of course, having a poor grasp of humor is common with autistic individuals--but the fact that he says nearly the same thing as a defense twice makes me feel as though he has it rehearsed as a defense when people react poorly to things he’s said, which happens often.

mirroring and echolalia

echolalia was briefly covered in the previous example, but for those unaware, via wikipedia (4):

Echolalia is the unsolicited repetition of vocalizations made by another person (when repeated by the same person, it is called palilalia). In its profound form it is automatic and effortless.

mirroring, on the other hand, is explained as such, also via wikipedia (5):

Mirroring is the behavior in which one person unconsciously imitates the gesture, speech pattern, or attitude of another. Mirroring often occurs in social situations, particularly in the company of close friends or family. The concept often affects other individuals' notions about the individual that is exhibiting mirroring behaviors, which can lead to the individual building rapport with others.

both of these are very common in autism, and they’re exemplified while L’s character is established watching his favorite TV show, Owarai Paradise. On one occasion, he’s watching the show and this dialogue happens:

Hiroshi: Despite never telling her how I felt, I still got dumped. I am Hiroshi.  Watari: Who was this one again? L: He is Hiroshi. Hiroshi: I am Hiroshi. I am Hiroshi.

-- Episode 2

it’s important to note that in Japanese, “He is Hiroshi” and “I am Hiroshi” are said, at least in this instance, exactly the same, so L is echoing precisely what he’s heard.

On another occasion, L is again watching the show with a glass of wine (seemingly acquired simply to imitate the characters onscreen, as he never drinks it) and when the characters onscreen toast their glasses, L does the same, mirroring them. 

CONCLUSION

I linked a post at the very beginning of this analysis talking about how characters are unintentionally autistic coded, and it’s important to understand how this unintentional coding is different from a headcanon--i didn’t make up these traits. they aren’t something that only exist in my head that i ascribe to L for fun. 

i made this analysis both because i wanted to share L’s autistic coding in one cohesive place, because plenty of people have made lists before, but none that i could find that included so many examples with images and explanations--and i also made it because of the old ryuzaki persona “theory.” 

for those unaware, the ryuzaki persona headcanon suggests that L faked all of these traits in order to make people uncomfortable, to put them off-guard and better mask his identity. i’ve seen posts about people claiming that nobody could actually behave in these ways, that L would surely be unhappy and uncomfortable sitting like that, or eating like that, or engaging in any of these behaviors. I’ve seen some people outright say that L isn’t autistic, but his persona is--that is, he’s pretending to be autistic.

i named this essay “occam’s razor” because, to me, L being autistic is the simplest answer to account for all of these traits. claiming that an autistic coded character is faking it is ableist and it just doesn’t make sense with anything else we know about his character.

but if you want to know more about that, i recommend reading eyecicles’ first!L tag. it’s debunked it in more ways than i ever could.

anyways, in conclusion

[vagrantblvrd]

AU where Luke and Leia are the children of the queen of Naboo and powerful and well-respected Jedi Knight, just about the age to marry and it’s this Responsibility hanging over their heads.

Their parents would never marry them off to someone horrible, but that’s not the point, and anyway, anyway, they know their duty.

(It breaks their parent’s hearts, but barring the same sort of Very Specific and Unique events that conspired to allow Padme to marry Anakin the best they can hope for is to like their future spouses, so.)

But then!

Conspiracies and the whatnot, and whispers of war spreading across the galaxy thanks to some faceless warlord pulling strings from the shadows and so on.

Worlds that co-existed, thrived, suddenly at one another’s throats and out of fear for their children’s safety they arrange for them to visit dear friend Bail and Breha on Alderaan.

(There’s meant to be a celebration, eligible suitors for Luke and Leia while keeping them far from skirmishes that have taken place too close to Naboo.)

Unfortunately Leia gets sick just as they’re about to leave, nothing too worry over, lose sleep over, but travel would only make it worse so she’s to stay behind while Luke and leaves for Alderaan on schedule.

(He visits her, the night before he leaves. Sneaks into her rooms the way he used to when they were younger and supposed to be asleep hours ago but young and foolish and the kind of reckless rebellion of the young and so on.

Leia’s tired, still recovering but she still manages a smile, a laugh, when Luke tumbles in through the window a though their parents haven’t been training them since they were young.

Politics, of course, but their father is a Jedi Knight and their mother is the queen, and anyway, anyway, any clumsiness they show these days are deliberate, so.

They talk, aware this may be one of the rare chances they’ll get like this again, what with their duties and responsibilities and privileged as they are the universe is far from fair.

Luke smiles, jokes, but there’s a flat tone to it that Leia hears all too clearly and Luke -

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says, wry twist to his mouth.

It’s a childhood joke borne of the stories their father and his former mentor would tell them at bedtime, well-worn phrase that heralded the kind of adventure that made them into legends, and now -

Leia grips Luke’s hands tight in hers because she does as well, dread a heavy weight in her chest.

“Don’t go,” she tells him, knowing he has no choice in the matter. “Luke, please.”

It’s on her face, in her voice, her yes, and there’s nothing they can do.

So.

Luke smiles, jokes, reminisces with Leia about the adventures they had running around the palace and its grounds and causing no end of trouble to their minders when their parents were busy until Leia falls asleep and Luke slips out the window and back to his own rooms without waking her.)

Leia knows long before word reaches Naboo that Luke’s ship was attacked in transit, all hands lost.

(Knows when their father senses it too, his rage and grief enough to send her to knees, draw the tears she refused to shed until then. She’s Force-sensitive, yes, but her father and brother are stronger, and if he’s so certain Luke is gone, then there’s no hope left for her.)

BUT THEN.

Luke’s not dead, of course he’s not, what kind of story do you think this is?

As it turns out, Luke’s ship was attacked, but one of his guards, escorts, manages to get him to an escape pod and away from the ships painted to look like one of Naboo’s allies turned jealous and bitter and angry over years and some insult or other.

(Conspiracies on conspiracies and so on.)

Lands on a planet, rocky and desolate and very much alone, injured.

Stumbles out of the escape pod, emergency supplies held tight in hand and absolutely certain he can’t stay there. Can’t wait for rescue to come, not knowing if whoever attacked his ship might find him first and finish the job that claimed his ship and the lives of people he’s known since he was young.

Manages to get a decent ways away from the escape pod before exhaustion and his injuries lay him low.

Cave in the distance he might be able to seek shelter in, assuming there are no native predators or otherwise living there, and he almost, almost makes it before he passes out.

Comes to however many hours later to a voice he doesn’t know pitched low and annoyed, but the hands checking him for injuries - he hopes, would be the worst luck to be robbed, looted, after recent events - are surprisingly gentle.

“What?”

Luke said that out loud, didn’t he.

“...Yes.”

Luke would laugh if it didn’t feel as though his head might burst, result of his skull meeting with a bulkhead at inadvisable speeds, and that had happened before the escape pod landed, so.

“Sorry,” Luke mumbles, because he does have manners. “But if you are robbing me I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer.”

There’s a long pause then, whoever is there with him so still Luke has a moment to wonder if they’ve left, offended by Luke’s words or disappointed he’s not worth robbing and then -

“Hmm.”

Luke frowns, risks opening his eyes and sees a kneeling beside him, oddly shiny.

“’Shiny’.”

Luke squints, tries to make out the figure, but it’s difficult as there seem to be two of them, and -

“I think I might have a concussion,” Luke informs the oddly shiny figure, and passes out again.

Later, however many hour later, he comes to with that same annoyed voice in his ears, but now there’s a fire merrily burning.

Nice, because it’s nighttime now, and cold and -

“You’re awake.”

As far as observations like that go, it’s incredibly unimpressed.

“Hmm,” Luke hmms, fuzzy memory of his oddly shiny companion doing the same, and also Luke being a natural-born smartass,

(Hereditary, he’s been told, along with stubbornness and fondness for eschewing things like common sense and a flair for the dramatic.)

There’s a sigh, long and heavy, and then the sound of the oddly shiny person moving closer, shadow falling over Luke that he can’t see with his yes closed the way they are, but, well.

His father is a Jedi Knight and he and Leia take after him in noticeable ways.

Luke opens his eyes and thinks oh, and hmm, and Leia is going to kill me, because his companion is indeed oddly shiny.

Or, well.

Perhaps not so odd, what with the armor and all.

Din - because of course it’s Din - is super unimpressed with Luke and his everything and Luke is just ??? because Mandalorian???

Not known to be BFFs with Jedi or Jedi-in-training, like Luke???

But Din can be excused for not partaking in this old feud/rivalry/animosity between them because Luke isn’t dressed as it befitting someone of his position, no.

He’s wearing the clothes he prefers on long trips when the are no other dignitaries along because to start with, they’re comfortable? But also Luke likes to tinker??? Little projects and such and maybe his father sent along a speeder or some other tinker-able vehicle to keep Luke occupied on the trip, use when he gets to Alderaan or...whatever.

Doesn’t look like the royalty, especially after recent events, and nothing to mark him as the prince of Naboo, or a Jedi-in-training and sworn enemy of the Mandalorians, and really, it’s incredibly, amazingly convenient, but it is what it is.

Din grumbles and complains, but he stays with Luke until he’s able to stand on his feet and even walk a fair distance without falling on his ass, and sighs when Luke invites himself along later that day when he says he has business elsewhere,

And then the two of them traveling to...somewhere, Din didn’t volunteer that information and Luke was too grateful to be headed away from where his escape pod crashed and potential search parties (doesn’t feel like trusting to the fact they’d be friendly towards him) and so on.

Doesn’t chatter incessantly as the annoyed set of Din’s shoulders heavily imply, because Luke is still injured and while his head isn’t an agony at the moment, it’s hardly a joy to deal with.

But, he does talk.

A lot.

About everything and nothing, off on a tangent here, there, wander far and wide the better to annoy Din into forgetting what questions he asked Luke. (The ones asking who he is, how he got there, and where the hell he’s going next, because Din’s patience lasts only so long.)

To Dins quiet horror, however, he actually starts to like Luke???

Like.

Annoying, yes, with the talking? But he doesn’t complain about all the walking they’re doing, or sleeping conditions when they make camp for the night and so on.

And, alright, sometimes it does get a bit lonely out here - conveniently far enough away from settlements or cities where someone would definitely recognize Luke - but he doesn’t tell Luke that, goodness no.

They run into trouble, after a while.

People who took part in the attack on Luke’s ship and other baddies on Mandalore connected to them and it’s a matter of bad luck meeting worse luck, and anyway, anyway.

There’s a fight, and some guns with the pew-pew shootout and Luke being the one to save Din’s life, escaping with him to some abandoned mine or underground tunnels, something and -

“Ah,” Luke says, breathless from the running and hiding and saving Din’s life and then hauling him somewhere that was supposed to be safe, even with the help of the Force.

(His head is killing him again, nowhere near healed enough to expend as much effort as he has just now, but it that or die, and he’d rather not get Din killed as well since the man’s only shown him kindness - and his special brand of charm - and anyway. Yes.)

He’s expecting it to be the people who ambushed them, but to his surprise, wariness, dread, it’s a Mandalorian. (Armor’s a dead giveaway and all.)

One who cocks their head when they see Luke’s face, blaster dipping slightly at the sight of him.

Luke tries for a smile, but Din groans, low, pained, and the best Luke was able to do was check the wound wasn’t life-threatening and slap a patch-job bandage over it before they made a break for it, and -

“I don’t suppose it would be asking too much if you had medical supplies, would it?” Luke asks, expecting to get shot for his trouble - sass, snark - but the Mandalorian holding them at blaster-point huffs out a laugh and holsters said blaster.

Jerks their chin towards a side tunnel and strides off, clearly expecting Luke to follow, and after a moment’s hesitation - no way to know if the Mandalorian is taking them to their deaths - but no better option available to them, so Luke follows.

(Murmurs an apology to Din when he groans again, guilt heavier than Din’s arm slung over his shoulder, the weight of Din and his armor, knowing he wouldn’t be in this situation if he’d left well enough alone after stumbling on Luke. So.)

Mystery!Mandalorian leads Luke to a room with medical supplies stored neatly. Clean and well-lit and after getting permission - nod of Mystery-Mandalorian’s head and wave of their hand that seems more amused than mocking - Luke sets about properly treating Din’s injuries.

Fumbles a bit, because Luke’s still injured himself, over-extended himself in the earlier fight, and it’s catching up to him now they’re somewhere arguably safe.

(No one actively trying to kill them, anyway.)

Mystery!Mandalorian watches as Luke tries to et his hands to stop shaking - stress, injury, exhaustion, any of a dozen reasons and he swears, low under his breath because now isn’t the time -

He startles when Mystery!Mandalorian takes the medical supplies out of his hands, didn’t notice him moving close enough to do so, and allows the hand on his shoulder that guides him into sitting on a stool as they do for him what he can’t in that moment and looks after Din.

Watches quietly, closely, but Mystery!Mandalorian knows what they’re doing, and truthfully Luke knows if they intended them harm there would easier ways, more efficient ones than this.

So.

He watches Mystgery!Mandalorian tend to Din’s injuries, and blinks up at them stupidly when they turn back to him, head tilted just so.

“What?” Luke asks, and Mystery!Mandalorian huffs out a laugh, quiet breath of laughter and then it’s Luke’s turn to be treated.

Careful, gentle hands and Luke’s mind drifts while Mystery!Mandalorian cleans and dresses a blaster burn on his shoulder, graze courtesy of a shot he hadn’t seen coming, attention on Din instead and he knows if it were a normal (...somewhat) normal situation he’d get a lecture on that lapse.

(A lecture, his father’s face stern, and under it worry, concern for him Luke’s never doubted, and after that his mother and quiet, soft words interwined with the same firece love his father has for his children. .)

As it is...

“Thank you,” Luke says, hopes Mystery!Mandalorian hears the things he can’t find the words for, the gratitude he feels.

Mystery!Mandalorian studies him for a long moment, Luke returning their regard best as he can even as he feels his mind going slow, stupid, as exhaustion rolls over him.

He can feel Mystery!Mandalorian watching him, them, unexected guests, visitors, complications, and there’s another sigh.

A gesture towards an unoccupied medical bed, slight tilt of his head that feels of that same brand of amusement from earlier.

Luke eyes it longingly because he’s tired, isn’t he, too much happening in too short a period of time and this feeling in the back of his mind that something is happening.

Whispers and rumors building towards something catastrophic if left unchecked and murmurs though the Force he’s known all his life.

“Rest,” Mystery!Mandalorian says, gentle, kind. “I’ll keep watch.”

It shouldn’t be a reassuring as it is, shouldn’t feel like Luke is breathing his first full breath since the alarms on his ship started wailing, intangible dread he’d felt once they left Naboo’s made real.

And yet...

There’s something about Mystery!Mandalorian he can’t help but trust, and Luke’s mind is tired, muddled, clear thought a struggle but the way the Force coils around them is enough to set his mind at ease.

“Thank you,” Luke says, and the words aren’t enough to articulate what he means, but it seems to be understood anyway.

He makes his way to the medical bed, and it isn’t long until he falls asleep, swears he hears Mystery!Mandalorian say, before he does, strangely soft, fond.

“You really are just like your father, aren’t you?”, and with no little amusement, “Skwalkers.”

And then shenanigans???

Luke waking up to Din staring at him from his own medical bed, at a loss regarding their situation, everything, and annoye (at himself???) about it, because Luke saved his life, didn’t he?

Saved it, and saved it again by getting them to safety and out of the hands of whoever attacked them, and that’s about the time Mystery!Mandalorian shows up, and Din is -

Not thrilled???

Doesn’t recognize the armor, person, regarding the two of them with this underlying amusement. (It rankles, that amusement, leaves him wrong-footed.)

Still, he follows Luke’s lead when he insists Mystery!Mandalorian is a friend - “Well,” Luke allows, at the look Din gives him when he says that. “He hasn’t tried to kill us. Yet.”

Which.

Fair, if not a ringing endorsement, but it’s not like they have much choice in the matter when Mystery!Mandalorian tells them to follow them, and off they go.

Underground tunnels and such until they get to some sort of base.

Other Mandalorians and Din is like oh, no, because these ones he does recognize.

“Resistance,” he says to Luke who’s picked up on his unease, gaze flicking to Din’s behind Mystery!Mandalorian’s back as they’re led down corridors to meet with what must be leadership.

Because Mandalore and unrest and that same something Luke’s known about his whole life and the way it affects the universe around him and just, yes.

Mystery!Mandalorian cocks his head as the lift they’re on descends, listening in, and still that amusement.

“Indeed,” he says, and something about it snaps Luke’s attention to him, makes Din...wary.

Just as well the lift stops, doors sliding open and then more corridors that seem to go on forever until they reach a set of doors.

Mystery!Mandalorian glances back at them for a moment, and huffs a quiet laugh at whatever he sees, and then they’re pressing forward.

It’s...not what he was expecting.

An office of some kind, with a holomap table off to one side and monitors and consoles beside it. A stripped down version of the control room they passed by floors down, and a slight figure in armor, head bowed over the holomap table.

Mystery!Mandalorian clears their throat, a courtesy, and the armore figure lifts their head, looks over at Luke and Din.

At Mystery!Mandalorian, and there’s a look exchanged between the two, silent conversation before Mystery!Mandalorian glances at Luke and Din again.

Sighs, and reaches up to remove their helmet, crooked smile on their - his face - at the way Luke goes so, so still beside Din.

Silence stretches long enough for Din to feel it, the weight of the revelation even if he doesn’t understand it.

“Hello, Luke,” he says, tired, aching.

Sharp inhale, and Luke tears his eyes away from Mystery!Mandalorian to look at Din, something so very wrong with the smile on his face.

“It’s Ben,” he says, and his voice cracks as he looks back at Mystery!Mandalorian, laughs at something Din doesn’t understand, something that makes Mystery!Mandalorian wince, even as he holds Luke’s gaze when he looks back at him. “Old Ben.”

Din frowns, because the man is older than them, Luke, that much is certain, but surely not old enough to have earned a title like that.

Because, look, alright.

Look.

Obi-Wan and sekrit missions because everyone knows trouble’s brewing, and a duchess of Mandalore contacted Padme, and things kind of just. Grew from there, to the point Obi-Wan went to Mandalore as an emmisary, ostensibly for political reasons, but really to help root out what information he could with Satine’s help and things went wrong.

Had him, and Satine, presumably killed in an uprising, no longer a threat to an unknown enemy.

Until the resistance took root, grew, and other such things.

Satine and Obi-Wan at the head of it, getting what information back to Padme, Anakin they could and everyone agreeing it was best for the time being if they stayed dead.

And then Luke’s ship being attacked and everything that followed, and anyway, anyway welcome to the resistance Luke Skywalker and friend, glad to have you.

Luke is understandably confused, angry at having been left in the dark, and angrier still that he has to admit to the necessity of it.

(He understands, but he’d still mourned for Obi-Wan, his father’s former mentor, teacher, and beloved uncle to Luke and Leia. He understands.)

And then there are briefings, because it’s very much a war the resistance is waging, against a common enemy and while Luke pay close attention to everything he and Din are told, he watches Obi-Wan, Satine.

Thinks oh, of course, when it hits him why the way the two of them interacts seems strangely familiar, known, because it’s the way his parents are, isn’t it?

Familiarity and trust, a knowing, and that little knot of anger buried deep in his chest at the deception involving Obi-Wan’s supposed death all those years ago unravels until he’s no longer breathing around it.

And then!

Shenanigans in which Din very much tries to NOT be part of this madness, because no, okay, no.

Simple bounty hunter and so on, and Luke don’t look at him like that, it won’t work -

So of course that’s when things go to hell and the base is attacked and Luke is taken and Din finds himself staring “Old Ben” down in the aftermath because this may not be his war to fight, but Luke is an idiot.

“Well,” Obi-Wan says, corner of his mouth quirking. “He does take after his father that way.”

Dramatic Rescues and Dine being So Done with everything, but also, like. Being heroically injured by shielding Luke and Luke’s pale face and fear in the back of his eyes as he leans over Din to keep him from bleeding out.

Striving for calm, soothing Din in between yelling for help, Obi-Wan and the others on their way, and Din laughing at him because he was told Jedi didn’t panic.

“Shut up,” Luke says, laugh all wrong. “I thought nothing could get through Mandalorian armor?”

Well.

Things go fuzzy for a bit, Din remembers pain and blood and yelling - a lot of that - and then he wakes up in a medical center somewhere.

Not the resistance base, but he doesn’t recognize it.

“Idiot,” is the first thing he hears, and then, “Stupid,” and so on, and when he turns his head Luke is glaring at him.

He must make for a terrible Jedi, Din thinks, because Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachment, are they?

Dangerous, terrible, and yet.

“You are, yes,” Din says, voice haorse, more of a croak, and when he laughs at the affornted look Luke gives him for that it hurts - still healing and all - but so very worth it.

And then, okay, and then.

It comes out that Palpatine has been building a base of power for himself for years, slow patient, and setting his enemies at one another’s throats to weaken them.

Conspiracies on conspiracies and Din watches Luke as his father - his father, mother, and sister who hasn’t left Luke’s side since they arrived - tell them.

(Because, you know, because. Luke’s family and secrets weighing heavy and of course, of course Leia would not be held back, would not just let Luke’s death go so easily.

Would investigate, relentless, until she stumbled over everything and her parents and a shared look and she gets it from you, you know, and me? you have to be kidding, and I get it from both of you, now tell me what’s going on right now.

Adventures, because Skywalkers. A chance meeting with a scruffy smuggler and his long-suffering Wookie friend, and a rickety, rusty freighter

.Hey, that’s no way to talk about a lady, and as if you’d know, and don’t encourage them, Padme, and Of course not, Anakin, and heavy, resigned sighs because Leia has always been terrifying like her mother and somehow more stubborn.

A resistance - “Rebellion,” Obi-Wan says, glint in his eye when Anakin looks at him, “seems more fitting don’t you think?” - growing as well in secret.

Both brought into the light with recent events and untold battles ahead, and just.

It’s a lot.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Luke says, and Din doesn’t tense at his voice, quiet, something sad to it under his amusement.

Din hmms, glances towards Luke.

So much has happened since they meet, learned of things far bigger than them, and still -

“We’re meant to be enemies,” he says, a Mandalorian to a Jedi, albeit one still in training if what Luke told him is true.

Luke cocks his head, and still crosses the clearing to sit beside him.

Hmms, right back at Din and Din bites back a sigh, watching Luke from the corner of his eye.

With everything that’s happened, they’ve learned, the old grudge seems petty in comparison.

Also, Obi-Wan and Satine, and it hardly seems important anymore, long before his time as it was, and while Luke’s certainly many things, he’s never felt like an enemy.

They sit in companionable silence for a while, calm, cool of the night and so much between them they don’t have words for yet, and none of it unwelcome.

When Luke gets to his feet, holds his hand out to Din, he doesn’t have to think about it when he takes it. Lets Luke pull him to his feet with that surprising strength of his, and falls into step with him just as easily.

And then they have Adventures and death-defying shenanigans and such. Steal kisses here and there and never put a name to this thing of theirs, but it’s strong enough to last through a war and to the other side of it.

Would-be Empire scattered and broken and a good bounty hunter’s experience is invaluable in stamping out the remnants.

Almost as much as a Jedi Knight who earned their title through countless battles and conflicts, steady familiar presence at his side.And really, really, it shouldn’t surprise him so much when Luke gives him this soft little smile when Din comes home after a solo mission, small green gremlin of a kid he’d found (rescued) in his arms and knows their little family has gained another member.

(And again and again, because Luke’s just as bad as him and Finn and Rey are fine on their own, but Grogu? An absolute nightmare and evil mastermind and Din doesn’t care what Luke says, the small green gremlin child gets it from Luke’s side of the family.)

Also, though.

The day Finn and Rey met Poe (Ben a little confused, bemused, blissfully unaware of what he was witnessing) signaled the beginning of the end and Luke is absolutely laughing at Din, don’t think he doesn’t know what that looks like by now. >:(((((((((((((((((((((((((

[elizabethrobertajones]

Hello there. I have a question (more like a thesis): What would have happened if Cas told the Truth anywhere between season 7 and 15? Do you think it would have had the same impact on Dean? Logically speaking Cas could have told him anytime.

Oh gosh, yes. I mean Dean’s reaction in season 15 is still the best it could have been really :P He was in the best place and most accepting of himself and he still had a BSOD for a moment and then Cas had to shove him away so he could go die... (Assuming you take the on screen boring presentation of what happened as canon and not throw in the reciprocation, tears, pull in for a kiss, etc that we know exists either in our hearts or on Jackles’ phone.)

I’ve been thinking about this and the parameters we’d have to apply if we were gonna get something like the show being self-healing back to its self as we know it but we were allowed a confession. Also the show has to be as punishing as ever. So these are my personal theses on each season... 

Season 7 the confession would have to be after Cas comes back, and everything in 7x17 that looked like Dean was jealous of Daphne and Meg textually was meant to be read that way in the set up for the confession. To make it the most painful obviously we still get Cas exactly as he was all through to the end of the season and he never really says anything too different but then right when they’re having the “cursed or not” discussion he’d bust out of nowhere that he supposes it is inevitable Dean would talk him into going on this dangerous mission to get Dick because obviously Cas loves him. And Dean, who is in a weirdly zen sort of place in the remaining minutes of season 7 after Bobby’s send off and final words that helped him go make up with Cas, is in a similarly season 15 oddly okay spot, mental health wise. At least. COMPARED TO ALL THE REST OF SEASON 7. But I still personally have always read it as a genuinely good place for him that could have endured much longer if not for *gestures everything that happened after stabbing Dick* and obviously making up with Cas was step one and a huge part of his process. 

(idk if you’ve noticed but 7x23 pretty much has no Sam and Dean interaction after Bobby’s send off, and their last good broments are really scarce; it feels sort of natural for abrupt calamity and no time for teary farewells in a season with a strong commentary on grief, which also hyperfocuses the attention on Dean n Cas there.)

So I think Dean would maybe be stunned but maybe quirk a sceptical smile like “He can’t mean it like that and anyway he’s currently coo-coo, this doesn’t mean anything hahaha oh Cas :)))” and then idk shake his head and move the story on and Cas just turns one longing look after him like “dammit that didn’t work out like planned” 

Anyway then the exact plot beats of 7x23 follow, exactly as seen on your screens, but we’re left going into season 8 and Carver era with Dean far far more messed up about Cas and it can force clarification in 8x02 in Purgatory where Cas is entirely adamant he meant what he meant and furious at Dean for being mad at him and Dean’s mad at Cas for all the season 8 reasons so they continue angsting at each other but Benny’s reaction shots are just 10x funnier. This is followed by Dean’s reciprocation of “I love you” instead of “I need you” in the crypt scene in 8x17 and from there honestly it’s been built up into canon in such a way that the emotional arc of the show has to go off the wheels and I can’t keep to the self-healing model to continue following the “real” plot and contain this much raw power.

Coincidentally, if the first confession is in season 8, it would be “what broke the connection” after a season 8 where nothing was different up until that point. Cas flaps off while Dean is still processing that the answer was “You. I love you.” and Dean is left yelling at the empty crypt like “What the hell, Cas?!” 

Then he’s as mad at him as he was in canon except instead of being borderline a really bad overreaction into his anger phase which we have to weather as miserable fans tethered to this ship who know sometimes Dean gets mad and yells at Cas for no reason, he’s reacting proportionately. It’s always seemed like 8x22 only makes sense if Dean is furious at Cas for confessing and fleeing except, obviously, in our “”real”” canon, it can only be like Cas confessed and Dean took it that way and also felt embarrassed how far he went with his own feelings only for Cas to run. 

This would make the bar scene with the cupids in 8x23 make a lot more sense too, and after they get the cupid bow Dean’s going to turn to Cas and give him a nervous smile, and then - Naomi flaps in like she does and distracts them away from reciprocation. 

I think this one could go long - maybe even season 13 Cas being dead and Dean being like “FUCK I never got a chance to work things out with him” and 13x06 onwards is where we get any actual work on the ship, because Carver era was so determined to be emotionally gruelling and unsatisfying and relentless from one issue to the next. And the confessions are so bound up specifically in the moments of miscommunication or failed attempts, cut off conversations etc that whether Destiel is canon or not, they’re never gonna get to talk it out under those conditions. Cas is only explicitly the grieving wife and jealous ex to Crowley’s smug take over of Dean’s affections rather than subtextually. 

The season 9 confession... I feel like we’d come perilously close to the Monkey Paw curse we once envisioned of Buckleming making it canon because they love jumping the gun on plot points and making them too obvious. So the end of 9x03, Cas is really blatantly angling to come in with a big “Hey I’m human can I live in the Bunker look at me I learned to do The Sex can we do it now” kind of vibe. All the enthusiasm he was giving to eating that burrito in the background while “Zeke” was trying to get him kicked out, but with lusting over Dean :P 

If we avoid that we can leap to Mr Bobo Berens and his first episode, and have this thing handled by a pro, as it’s already very much about Cas as a homeless queer man with a bad ex he still loves rolling into town where he’s just trying to make a new life and play straight - I mean human - for his own survival. I suspect the confrontation with Iphraim would make it really obvious that Cas didn’t just want to live as a human but had an eye for living as a human with Dean, and then he’d attempt a confession right before Dean would accidentally talk over, like, the L in “love” honestly, to tell him that sorry things do still stand that you can’t come back with me. Leaves Cas utterly devastated but Dean is none the wiser and he drives off and Cas pines piningly at the pine trees in his Gas n Sip. 

Again the end of season probably would force the real confession, since there’s a ready made moment in 9x22 where Hannah tries to force Cas to kill Dean and he gives it all up for one man. Cas can just lower that knife and be like, “No, I love him,” talking to his shoes and Hannah rather than meeting Dean’s eyes. Mark of Cain Dean is fuuuucked up at that point but we still get the moment where Dean carries Cas’s bag into the bunker and sits down with him and tries to care about his health and now also this confession. Sussing out what the heck is up with Cas, and maybe he looks like he’s playing it cool and is still so messed up but Cas is vulnerable, and finally Dean starts to reach across the library table for his hand, and it’s a moment where maybe things could have started to go better for them...... Cue Gadreel walking into the library, Dean going feral, blah blah demon!Dean, blah blah explicitly stated Drowley, blah blah muuuch healing and Cas giving Dean a wide berth for a lil while. Though, in this scenario, 10x22 is far worse but has the reverse crypt scene moment, so Dean can be more obviously unable to kill Cas because he loves him, and then he walks out, followed by season 11 and Cas being returned to them. Unfortunately. Yep. Another finger curls on the Monkey Paw... 11x03 by Buckleming would absolutely be where Destiel goes undeniably canon as it is their first real interactions post Mark of Cain. Our only consolation - directed by Jensen Ackles.

Season 10 confession, hm. Poor Cas. He has the option of 10x03, of confessing and then immediately apologising and walking off to handle stuff with Hannah (thanks Buckleming!) or the Burger Date, where Dean may be slightly less stunned stupid but still likely to laugh it off and not believe it. There’s not much heavy tension between them most of the season so it’s possible that the only time Cas would really get is to confess in 10x22 while telling Dean that he would have to watch him murder the world, and that would suck because I love you. At which point the story dictates that Dean beats Cas to paste so it’s a very bad look. Season 10 destiel confession is the worst. 

Season 11 may be better because Cas has options to be jealous of Crowley and Dean’s connection to Amara multiple times and then Casifer happens and that can really play up things in a season where a confession is coming. 

I think the Beer Run in 11x23 might be the only viable place, where Dean grabs Cas and takes him out for that drive for last drinks before the end of the world. Cas gets the “you’re our brother” thing and just lays into Dean with the certainty of someone who knows this is it - now or nothing - with “You know that’s crap, Dean. You wait until the end of the world and you can’t even say it. Well I can; I love you.” 

Cue awkward tension, well-placed interrupting Moose, and then the world very much not ending so that when Dean n Cas hug and kiss in front of Mary in 12x01. Well. There’s even more explaining to do to her. Since we’ve made it to Dabb era, I believe any confessions from this point onwards can just slot into the show as we got it from there since it’s entirely compatible to start season 12 assuming Dean n Cas are literally married and never be contradicted by the text in their behaviour. But since we’ve had canon Destiel since whenever, obviously the final episodes are good instead of. That.

Season 12... Going to have to go with the first sniff of true canon coming in Lily Sunder with just a few lines leaning even further in the Cas’s Angel Family Are Homophobic Assholes metaphor, leaving Cas’s relationship with Dean even more live wire exposed. Followed by The Mixtape Scene where Cas is going to confess to Dean and get him startled up out of his seat, accidentally knocking the mixtape to the floor and for a moment it’s like, did he throw it is he mad? but then he’s smooching Cas, fade to black, return to scheduled programming but the whole line about Cas stealing the Colt from under Dean’s pillow makes fuckin sense, as well as the fall out argument and how mad Dean was at Cas followed by how devastated he was at Cas’s death. This just means Dabb era continues as planned except we get a kiss in 13x06 under that big glowy cross, and some more smooching here and there when things are good from then on. 

Season 13... Hm. Cas has to do the confessing and I don’t think he’d throw that at Dean on return from death so unlike if Dean was the one who was being made to confess obviously the aforementioned glowy cross scene obviously would be it for him... Cas could keep that bottled up much longer, especially as he has so much to do with Jack this season. It’s entirely possible we go through the whole season and then Cas lobs it at Dean as a final card when he’s making his Michael decision and we actually see the scene that we didn’t get, where Cas has to watch Dean getting possessed. Except Dean is like, tearful and furious like why would you tell me that now, and anyway i’m doing this for you as well dumbass but fuck you but also how dare you anyway I need to be an archangel now and save our - your - son, bye. Cue Cas sitting there not just in total horror at what happened but also kicking himself for fucking up the moment :P I guess this way at least we can have that moment where Dean is un-Michaeled and tells Cas he’s going to shower and finger guns at him, and now we can have Cas wordlessly and furiously follow him. 

Season 14, we get Cas at Rocky’s bar confessing to Dean while figment!Pamela cheers the whole thing on. If there was EVER a time to use the power of love to snap Dean out of it, Cas upsetting his cosy routine with “this isn’t real, I’M NOT HERE IN YOUR FANTASY” is absolutely the time to pull a reverse crypt scene which has such low stakes in terms of neither of them needing to punch each other when Michael is an external aggressor.

My ONLY issue with this is that Sam has to witness the whole thing and we would get reaction shots and I am a weak mortal who will start cackling at them when I’m supposed to be having the transcendent moment of canon and the whole thing would be ruined just because of the way Jared gurns when doing reactions to dean n cas interacting. Wow thanks. Thanks a lot. 

[usmsgutterson]

Page Eighty-Three- Kaz Brekker

Real (Page Eighty-Three series, part 3)

And thus, here we arrive at the end of the Page Eighty-Three series! I’ve been working on it almost a week now, and had the idea brewing in my brain for two weeks beforehand, so, considering the way that I’ve chosen to publish all the parts, it’s not gonna be a very emotional goodbye for you guys, but for me, oddly enough, it is?

Its the first fic I’ve done that’s been more than two parts, and I guess that adds to it? I don’t know! But, anyways, on with it!

Also, a gentle reminder, I only have Kaz being a little on the touchier side because this is a bit of an AU of sorts, and they’re around twenty four in this last part, which gave him time to work on his trauma more and get comfortable with touch!

Fic type- fluffy as fuck

Warnings- a very brief mention of the flashback in the first chapter (to be specific, nina says ‘stopped you from getting hatecrimed’) and a brief sexual innuendo

T H R E E Y E A R S L A T E R 

You knocked out after you’d killed your father, and went home completely unconscious on Inej’s boat, tucked onto a cot with Kaz at your side. Genya had decided to spend a little time around Ketterdam, get to know the ins and outs and provide intel for Nikolai when he asked for it, and Nina had decided that her home could be Ketterdam for four months of every year. 

Inej did her thing, catching and killing slavers all around the globe, but her visits to Ketterdam became more frequent after you’d gotten back. 

Jesper took your amplifier and made it a project for himself, removing the claw from the obsidian and instead using his fabrikator abilities to turn it into a bracelet that you wore on your right hand, made of gold, with the claw dulled out so that it didn’t poke you when you moved your wrist.

A year after you’d returned home, when yourself and Kaz had gone into his office one morning, book clutched in one of your hands, the other interlaced with Kaz’s fingers, you found a box sitting on his desk.

A note from Zoya was taped to the top of it. 

A top tier bitch deserves a top tier amplifier, it read. Bracelet. Wear it on your right wrist. It’ll go with the bear claw wrapped in gold.

You kept the note, reading it to yourself whenever you needed a laugh, giggling about it with Nina when she needed a laugh, too. 

All of those small moments ended up leading to a much bigger one, though. The day that Kaz proposed. 

It was a pretty simple proposal, but you loved it. 

--

“I had to get advice from Jes about this,” was how he started it, even before he’d gotten down onto one knee. “He proposed to Wylan in the fall, and I know that the Winter makes Ketterdam look absolutely stunning, and I know that you like the scenery, so, well, here we are.” 

You’d been walking around Ketterdam, the clicking of Kaz’s cane against the pavement a soothing sound for the both of you. 

You’d managed to make it near the outskirts of Ketterdam just by walking, as Kaz’s leg was being decent to him and he wanted to walk until you’d arrived at one of the more scenic spots. You indulged him for the sake of it, making sure you took breaks and that he got water when he was tired. 

It’d been snowing, and the sky had yet to darken beyond a light grey. You and Kaz both had snow in your hair, but to one another, it just added to handsomeness, so neither of you moved to brush the snow out of your hair or off your faces. 

“When we were seventeen,” he began, feeling for the box in his pocket. The one with a ring inside, cushioned by red, velvety fabric. “You read me a quote from the book I’d gotten you that day. You’ve memorized just about every poem in it since, and I happen to have done the same thing.” 

“The quote that you read to me was from The Sun and Her Flowers. It was on page eighty three,” he grinned at you, a fully fledged smile. Something he saved for you and you exclusively.

“I’m going to change the wording a bit, because it’s in the past tense, and we’re not past tense. The quote was ‘you were mine, and my life was full,’,” he said. “I’m changing it to ‘you are mine, and my life is full.’ Because thats how I feel.”

“Kaz?” You asked. “Do you have something planned?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he clutched the box.

“I suck at words, so, from Rupi Kaurs book Milk and Honey, I offer you this,” he carefully got down onto a knee, using his cane to keep him steady for a few quiet moments as you realized what was happening. 

“‘You are every hope and dream I’ve ever had, in human form.” He pulled out the ring, opening the box and holding it out to you. “That’s page forty nine, love.” 

“If you can’t think of an answer, please, just-- anything works,” if Jesper had told sixteen year old Kaz Brekker that he’d end up on his knees, begging you for a response to his proposal at just twenty two, he’d have called Jesper crazy.

“Yes,” you mumbled. “Yes, Kaz Brekker. If you’re asking me to marry you, it’s an immediate yes.” He used his cane to get himself up to standing again, slipping the ring onto your ring finger and accepting the hug that you pulled him into.

You were going to marry Kaz Brekker, the love of your life, and you couldn’t wait for it. 

--

The day seemed to come at you quickly, even though you’d not set the date until Winter of year that you turned twenty four. 

First, it was calling Nikolai and asking if you could cash in the reward for killing your father and doing him and the world a justice that they deserved, then it was finding suitable tuxedos and sending out invitations and planning a million different things at once. 

But, eventually, you, Jesper, Wylan, Genya, and Nina, were all on Inejs boat, headed toward the Little Palace.

Then, all of the sudden, you were in the last stretch of time before the wedding. Alina, Mal, Genya, Zoya, and Nina were talking as Genya tailored you, getting rid of some of the blemishes and fixing up little things about your face that you’d asked her to tailor until the end of the ceremony. 

“It’s weird,” Alina said, pressing a kiss to Mals cheek as she glanced at her own wedding ring. “I remember you as this fourteen year old boy who used to gawk at the attractive guys in the Second Army, the boy who resented his powers and swore at his father at any chance that he got, and now you’re and you’re completely different.”

“Different how?”

“Kaz Brekker,” Genya said, running her finger under one of your eyes gently, as to get rid of your eyebags. “He’s good for you.”

“And you don’t resent your powers anymore,” Zoya adds. “You don’t use them often, but you don’t resent them.” 

“You use them, don’t you, mate?” Mal quipped. “Or were my eyes tricking me when I went to wake you and Brekker up this morning, only to find you keeping light out of your room with a flick of your bloody wrist?” 

“I was tired,” you pouted. “Kaz and I both were!”

“Ah, newlyweds,” Nina joked.

“It’s not like that!” You shouted. “Zoya, help me out!”

“He’s able to kiss you now,” she said. “Like, with tongue and stuff. Theres no reason he wouldn’t be able to enjoy a fun little tumble with you here and there!”

“’Tongue, and stuff,’” Mal repeated. “Yes, Zoya, because, as a twenty six year old woman, that’s totally adult phrasing.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to describe it any better,” Nina quipped. Genya and Alina hummed their agreement as Genya moved to your hair, fluffing it and styling it so it that it looked nice as you adjusted the cuffs on your dress shirt. 

“Wheres my blazer?” You asked, grabbing your tie from Genyas lap, tying it as she evened out some of the color near your roots. 

“Closet,” Alina answered. “I’ll get it for you!” Mal checked his watch.

“We’ve got three minutes to get down there,” he said. “Lets make the most of Y/Ns remaining 180 seconds unmarried.” You laughed, rolling your eyes as Genya stood, helping you up after.

Nina shot Genya a glance, and she took the hint, ushering Alina, Mal and Zoya out of the room and passing Nina your blazer as she left. 

Nina helped you into your blazer, running her thumb along your cheek with a smile. 

“I never thought I’d see Kaz Brekker married,” she said. “But hey, I guess stopping you from getting hatecrimed had it’s benefits, didn’t it?” 

You laughed, shrugging.

“I think that we’ll rebuild some of the Slat,” you said. “Make the rooms bigger. Get plaques declaring whos room is whos.”

“A golden plaque with Nina Zenik emblazoned on it?”

“Bolted to your bedroom door, Neens.” 

“I love you, Morozova.” She said, trapping you into a tight hug.

“I love you back, Zenik.” You said. “Now, c’mon. I don’t think anyone would take too kindly to me being late for my own bloody wedding, would they?” 

--

The wedding was small, taking place close to the entrance of the Little Palace. There were no chairs to sit on, but the few guests you’d invited didn’t mind it whatsoever. 

The guest list was fairly small, considering your tight knit little family. Wylan was Kaz’s best man, Your best woman was Nina. The people standing in the small crowd were all familiar faces.

Wylans mother, Marya Hendriks, and Jespers father, Colm Fahey were the oldest there. Among them were Nikolai, Alina, Mal, Genya, Rotty and Specht, and the two members of the Dregs who’d originated the King of the Barrel nicknames. Their names were Terrowin and Kira, and when you caught their eyes, they were beaming at you both.

Jesper was officiating, and as you met his gaze, you remembered how he was practically bouncing off the walls the day that you’d asked him to officiate. 

“Okay, now that they’re both here, we can begin!” Jesper couldn’t hide his excitement.

“Mr. Brekker,” Jesper laughed through the words. He’d not called Kaz ‘Mr. Brekker’ unless he was doing so in a jokey context. You knew that, had it been anyone elses wedding, they’d probably have gotten angry at Jesper for giggling through the words, but for you and Kaz, it just added to an already perfect day. “Do you take Y/N as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” he said. 

“Mr. Morozova,” Jesper glanced at you, and you met his gaze, having to stifle laughter when you realized just how wide his grin was. How happy he seemed. He looked like he was about to start bouncing off the walls and screaming with joy. “Do you take Kaz as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Hells yes,” you said, giggling slightly. For a moment, Kaz let his lips lift into a grin. You matched it with your own smile and took his hand into yours.

“You’ve prepared your own vows, so, Mr. Brekker, sir, you go first!” Kaz glanced at Jesper inquisitively, grin still on his face as he started talking and met your eye.

“I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you,” he said. “And when my heart says something, I’ve learned to listen to it. I love you with my entire heart and so much more, and I hate that I’m not good with words, because that’s all I can say. Nothing else accurately cultivates the feelings I’ve felt for you since that night, when you were broken and bruised underneath that saintsforsaken lamplight. I promise to love you every minute of every day, Brekker.” You’d agreed to change your last name to his. You’d be Y/N Brekker by the end of the night.

“Mr. Brekker,” Jesper said. “Since you’ll be married in a few minutes and I have to get used to that last name on you, you may say your vows!” 

“When I was fifteen, I was caught and beat broken by a group of eight eighteen year olds,” you began. “But you saved my ass before I was killed, and it seems as though our relationship has been a series of saves ever since. Kaz Brekker, with the ring I’m about to put on your finger, I’m promising that I’ll do that forever. Please, though, try to avoid getting yourself kidnapped too often, okay?” His chest shook in silent laughter as he nodded.

“The rings, gentlepeople?” Jesper asked, Nina passed you the ring you’d slip into Kaz’s finger, and Wylan passed Kaz the one he’d put onto yours.

“Put them on,” Jesper said. You and Kaz both glanced at him once more, meeting each others eye thereafter, grinning and shaking your heads. It’d become very clear to you that the twenty four year old who you’d recruited to officiate your wedding was damn near close to letting out an excited squeal. 

Kaz put the ring onto your ring finger and you did the same for him, waiting for Jespers next words as you took a half a step closer to Kaz. 

“Kiss, you idiots!” Jesper said. Kaz laughed, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He’d kiss you like nothing else later in the evening, when the only thing to bug you was a lamp that you’d left on, but you both agreed that a forehead kiss would be as far as you’d go in front of others. Kisses, to Kaz, were personal, and you respected and loved that about him. 

“Saints, bless this fuckin’ union!” Jesper shouted. You glanced at Alina, who shot you a thumbs up and a nod as the party part of the wedding kicked off. 

Terrowin and Kira were the first people that you and Kaz talked to.

“Did you secure it?” He asked.

“The property?” Terrowin was a Zemeni boy, with skin dark as night and eyes as warm as the sun. 

“Or the trip?” Asked Kira, a girl from Shu Han with hair black as the feathers on a crow and blue eyes as cold as the Fjerdan ice. 

“The property, first and foremost,” he said. “Did you get it? Did you give it the name I asked you to?”

“Yes, and yes,” said Terrowin. “Beside The Silver Six is a bookstore called Page Eighty-Three. It’s scheduled to open in the fall.” Your eyes widened as you made the connection.

“Page eighty-three?” You asked, smirk on your lips. Kaz shrugged.

“And the request?”

“The line from the poem will be put on the wall behind the clerks counter,” Kira said. “Just as you requested.”

“And the trip?”

“Your boat for Novyi Zem leaves in two days, Boss,” Kira said. “Two bells in the afternoon. It’s directly routed to Coftons docks.” Kaz nodded.

“Thank you,” he said. “We’ll see you when Page Eighty-Three opens.” 

“Damn right we will,” you said. Terrowin and Kira laughed as they walked away.

You glanced around the room, spotting Jesper and Wylan perched at a piano, playing the music that everyone was dancing to. Marya and Colm dancing close to them. Nina and Zoya dancing like idiots and laughing throughout. Mal and Inej making conversation and Genya and Alina heading your way.

“Congrats, you two,” Genya said. “Can I expect to see you both tanned and rested up when you get back from Novyi Zem?” 

“You’ll be in Ketterdam?” You asked. Genya nodded.

“For a couple of months, to make sure that your Jesper friend doesn’t colossally fuck things up while your friend Inej is doing her thing on the open ocean,” Alina said. “I’m there to visit for a bit, under the radar.” 

“Thank you, Alina,” he said. “Thank you both. For everything that you’ve done in these past years.” 

“No biggie, Brekker,” Alina said. “I don’t know you that well, but I see how happy you make Y/N, and he’s like a little brother. I care about his happiness.” 

“You two are absolutely bloody adorable,” Genya said. “Now, back to my question, will you be tan, or at the very least, well rested, upon your return?”

“Kaz is pale,” you said. “He’ll burn like a crisp. Me? I don’t really know. I guess it depends.” 

“We’ll be well rested,” Kaz said. “He’s a darkling. He can create shadow. I fully intend to use that to keep the sun out in the mornings.” 

“I won’t do whatever you ask of me!” You quipped.

“You had no issue with that last night,” he said, raising a teasing eyebrow. “Or this morning!”

“Mal was right!” Alina shouted, her and Genya bursting into giggles. “Damn it, I hate it when that happens!” You laughed.

You took another glance around you, spotting your friends.

No, wait. Scratch that.

Not your friends.

Your family. 

Your family was having a good time, eating, talking, dancing, laughing. They were enjoying themselves and congratulating you as you talked to Alina and Genya. 

Kaz had an arm around your waist, his cheek pressed against the side of your head as his other hand gently turned your wedding ring around on your finger. He was talking to people without arguing with them. He was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

Your life was perfect.

Kaz was yours, you were his, and your life was full. 

--------

tags: @whateverfandom00 @a-c-lee @incorrectquotesconaisseur @the7seannas​ @teatimeforusreaders​ @hunnybunimdun​

[littlemisswriter]

Saving London - Part 1

Summary:

What if the Frye twins never grew up to be assassins, yet to be working men and women in the city of London along with the others? What if Lily had been the only assassin to respond to Henry Green's plead for help? And what if she recruits the twins to work alongside her to stop the oppression and fight against Templars?

[Here is my promised written imagine, there will be more parts soon so don’t worry! Let me know if you like it; I am trying new concepts around the Syndicate storyline, types of AU’s that I don’t see much in this fandom, let alone this game specifically! So hope you all enjoy :)]

-

Society had been they way it had always been for the last hundred years. A biased dictatorship working in favour of their own gain and allowing those under them to indulge in nothing but their scraps. The world was a large place, with London in the very centre.

The blue skies above were being met with black hazes from the factories below, and those situated in those said factories were not faring any better. Day in, day out were workers worn to the bone. Hands calloused and dirty from maintaining the machines that built the technologies around them. Men spent most time away from home, doing their best to support families in spite of their decreasing health. Though it had not only been men that were subjected to this environment, but women and children as well.

Morally it had been frowned upon to have such a vast amount of workers, but business wise… those who held power could get away with whatever they wanted. Well, had been able to get away with what they wanted. Times were changing, people were oppressed, and a certain underground gang had taken it upon themselves to answer London’s calls.

Outside the factory walls in Southwark, the sun had begun to descend behind the horizon; the chilly night air settling in for those still out and about on the streets. But for those in the factory, the temperature had been nothing less of humid and uncomfortable. Those workers that kept away with their tasks had been there for hours, body’s aching and spirits broken, yet still desperate to cling onto what little pay they could get.

Among those had been a particular young man, muscles built deeply by his youthful ability to complete his tasks and those around in need of help. He had built up a sweat, resulting in the first few buttons of his shirt being undone to provide some form of air to his skin. His hair had been hard to maintain on its own, strands consistent to fall upon his forehead and block his view irritatingly, so he simply kept it slick back with the help of his newsboy cap. “Oi Jacob!”

The call of his name had distracted him momentarily, hands gripping around the broom as he watched an older worker approach him cautiously. His eyebrow raised.

“What is it, Tommy?” Taking a proper stand with a lean on his elbow and hand to his waist, he stood waiting for the chap to spit out whatever sat on his tongue. Tommy pointed behind him and Jacob’s gaze followed.

“Little Charlie seems tired, he does. Poor lad can’t barely keep his eyes open.” The mention of the young boy had Jacob’s brows furrow in concern, their eyes landing to watch the child struggle to pick up a basket from the corner. Tommy had not spoken a tale, the boy’s legs weak as he struggled to carry his own weight, and face red from exhaustion of working more than half the day. “Do you think you could ‘elp? I know it’s a bother to ask-”

He was interrupted by a raise of Jacob’s hand and a quick reassuringly smile. “No bother.” The older man sighed in relief, hands rubbing together stressfully as the lines on his face etched a smile to replicate.

“Thank you. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” The thought given a moment to linger at the consequences of those if Jacob were not there to aid them. It was chilling, and most unwelcome.

The broom was leant on the wall he found it, forgotten as Jacob made way quickly over to help the young boy. His pace was quick, but not quick enough as Charlie’s knees gave out and he slipped down to the floor. Jacob’s eyes widened as he came by him, hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Charlie?” The young boy could only nod and wipe his elbow out from under his nose, as if to hold back tears.

“I’m just tired, sir.” As would be expected.

“Jacob,” he corrected, not fond of the title from a boy he knew relatively well, “and don’t worry. Go take a rest out of sight, and I’ll take care of this.” Charlie’s eyes glimmered in relief, offering only an eager nod. But before either could move, they had been called. And not kindly in the slightest.

“You two!” A pair of Blighters had caught the workers dawdling, meaning now a confrontation was imminent. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Impulsively, Jacob stood with furrowed brows, his arm outstretched to the boy behind him as he acted as a barrier.

“I made the mistake, not the boy. I was about to rectify-”

“Stop your babbling, boy!” Jacob was shoved back, his footing catching his fall easily as he narrowed his eyes up to the guards. “What I see is two slackers! And you know what happens to slackers?” The brute standing behind the accuser had grinned evilly, knuckles cracking as he came forward. Slight panic rose through Jacob as he once again placed himself between Charlie and danger.

“I’ll take punishment, whatever it is. Just let the boy go.” A mere cackle came his response as the two made ground towards them.

“Boss told us to give a thrashing to those sitting idle.” As he would, seeing as that man had been the least compassionate foreman Jacob had ever come across. His only concern was himself and everything that he reflected. Ministered beatings had not been uncommon here, yet nobody seemed to adjust to the mistreatment or became brave enough to stop them.

The scene had many eyes turn, some stopping to witness the horror of the Blighters. Though nobody moved. Most had uttered a few courageous words before, but nothing drastic to make a change. They all knew their place, as uncomfortable as the reality of it was. And the truth was, if you wanted to eat, you did as you were told and took what was given to you.

Jacob stepped back a few paces, keeping Charlie hidden well behind him as he did his best to appear brave. If anybody had a shot at countering hits and supplying their own, it was Jacob. But that had not meant it was going to be any less brutal.

They came closer, almost cornering the man as the boy did nothing but whimper behind him; all in all, they had felt helpless. But yet… it appeared fate had other plans.

“I’m gonna hit you so hard, I’ll-”

A commotion could suddenly be heard from higher up, stilling the Blighters as they bore witness to yells and thumps at the top of the factory. It had not sounded too promising, especially when no one knew whose yells they belonged to and why they were suddenly prominent. Then, a body came tumbling down to the bottom floor, everyone gasping in horror as it lay limp and lifeless for everyone to see.

Jacob blinked back profusely, glancing back to Charlie before allowing himself to recognize exactly who lay dead before him.

The foreman. His throat continuously bleeding out as well as two stab marks to his chest. A sight that most may and did feel faint from. And so, panic ensured as the workers let down their tasks easily and made way for escape. Charlie had been one to catch himself in the mass of the crowd, yet Jacob’s feet were planted firmly to the ground. It was a horrible sight, yes, but he was also oddly intrigued as to what was going on.

“Oh shit!” The brute muttering, looking over to his partner before hesitantly making way to the body. Though he did not get far when a figure had abruptly dropped done next to the man. They had been covered head to toe in robes, their identity concealed with a hood though a belt masked with weapons had been on display for all to see.

A lump caught in Jacob’s throat as he and the few others that still remained quickly pieced together that whoever was under those robes had been the culprit to the foreman’s death. And rightly so, ruminating on the behaviour that led the man to his own demise.

“Who the hell are you? What have you done?” The figure stood straight, turning to face what appeared to be the last remaining Blighters in the factory. It was quiet, too quiet, and that had sent up an unnerving chill through their spines.

“Now, that is not a polite way to speak, is it?” The voice was female, a surprising notion in on itself. But yet it had been cocky, the calm demeanour of someone having just murdered another was terrifying. And her dry laugh that followed after had both Blighters step back in hesitance. “This man is dead,” she pointed to the body, allowing Jacob to capture a look at a glistening blade attached to her forearm. He swallowed back harshly.

“You’re the dead man!” The shorter Blighter had been snapped back into anger as the stranger merely found humour in his boss’s death. He yanked a blade from his pocket and charged at the woman, all bodies tensing as they waited for the clash. Though she had easily ducked his swing, her speed impeccable as she twisted the same arm intended for harm back behind his back. A crack had been heard, the Blighter yelling in agony as she took his own blade and ended him with it.

No sweat was broken, neither had her spirit. As if she was simply strolling through a park with infinite time on her hands. The brute had been next, fighting back resistance as he too took charge. His hits were hard, the man built on nothing but sheer muscle and height. Which left his weak spot open, something she took great advantage of.

A slip between his legs and a kick to the back of his leg brought him to his knees. He swung against vigorously, though his attempts had been in vain as she used her height advantage to slide the very same blade on her wrist down into his neck.

Blood came and sept through as he lay limp in it, all threatening seeming to disappear as now stood the workers and the dangerous stranger. She looked around, taking a moment to ensure that the factory had been completely wiped out of all Blighters before echoing a large whistle. It was a call, and soon enough, as if waiting for the signal, a handful of Rooks had stepped into the building and immediately made claim.

“What in the…” Jacob could not fathom what was happening, or how it had actually been done. Who was the stranger? Why go to all the trouble for a factory in Southwark? Why had he been more intrigued than fearful of it all?

“My fellow companions!” The stranger began, finding refuge on a crate as she stood centre of attention to all those around. “I know you may be confused, and even frightened, but fear not! We are not here to hurt you or any others that do not belong to the Blighter gang!” Precuring the safety and wellbeing of those who had feared had them relax, but not entirely. Their bodies still tense and hesitant as they gathered around.

Jacob had been one to come closer, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in the small surrounding crowd. His brows furrowed as he kept all attention to the stranger.

She looked around her, nodding to her Rooks before gently pulling her hood back. It was if his heart had stopped as he first lay eyes on the woman. She had been beautiful, no doubt about it. Yet she was foreign, dressed to what society would deem inappropriate for women. She was cocky and dangerous, a small grin still etched to the corner of her mouth as she spoke to those openly around her. “My name is Lily Harvard, and these here are my Rooks!” Arms out wide as she gestured to the green coated gang surrounding. “I am here to make you all an offer. To help us take down the Blighters in all boroughs and liberate London back to its people!”

An honourable quest yet a large ask. She had taken employment from those under an authority that much less cared about the health and wellbeing of its workers. But did not come empty handed.

“Join me! Join the Rooks!” Some had already taken to the idea, a few more Rooks entering with spare jackets to pass to those that were eager to be invested in something, and others that did not want to be left stranded. “You do not have to do anything you do not wish, but bear in mind that you will be apart of something larger than yourselves! Help us destroys Crawford Starrick’s hold on this city, and we in turn will welcome you like family!”

The coaxing appeared to deter a few, those leaving subtly out of the eye of others though most stayed, agreeing to the terms and enlightened to be better looked after in this new emerging gang. Jacob had not peeped a word, his eyes still drawn to Lily as she looked happily to those around her. A nudge had suddenly caught his attention and a woman holding a green jacket extended it out to him. “You in, sunshine?”

Jacob took a moment, looking from the jacket to the Rook, to Lily, and back to the jacket. Well… it could not possibly be worse than working in this factory with little to no regard. Plus… redemption for him and those around him did sound quiet appealing.

“Why not?” The Rook offered him a toothy grin and chucked the jacket in his hands. The man grasping to the material before ridding his own jacket and replacing it.

It was the start of something better, and he couldn’t wait to tell Evie.

[tunedtostatic]

truths and dares

After the Iris 2 crew spends a wild night celebrating together, Sana is wishing through a pounding headache that certain crewmates hadn’t dared her to drink straight from the bottle. Meanwhile, Park seems more concerned with the truth part of the night.

2.5k, Sana/Park (and Iris 2 crew)

Also posted at archiveofourown dot org, /works/33560497 (I’ll put a real link in a reblog)

CW: Drunken shenanigans, excessive alcohol consumption, mostly played for laughs but not totally. Suggestive language, though nothing beyond T-rated if that.

The hangover/coffee storyline is a retread of the premise of @iffeelscouldkill’s wonderful Sana/Campbell fic “Strong Coffee and Sourdough,” because my brain went “What if THAT but with PARK?”

Sana opens her eyes and immediately wishes she hadn’t. The sunlights in her cabin on the Iris 2 have come up, and Sana decides she wants to go back in time and kidnap whichever IGR engineer decided, doubtless to optimize personnel efficiency, that cabins should default to scheduled natural lighting. Anything to stop the photons now stabbing into her very soul.

Memories come back hazily: The first batch of moonshine on the new ship. A patch of the Deep familiar to the former Rumor crew, but days away from the more populated routes. Things feeling steady for the first time in a while. A crew dinner and a night of drinking to celebrate.

A lot of drinking. Sana groans, trying to put images together as her head pounds. She remembers sitting at the mess hall table with the others, singing. She remembers racing up and down a hallway with Krejjh and…McCabe?...with some kind of objective in mind, passing a ball back and forth, as the rest of the crew cheered. She remembers sitting in a circle on the floor of the darkened mess, Krejjh dramatically taking shelter in Brian’s arms as someone…Violet?...told a spooky story.

After that, she draws a blank, though she does have an odd sleepy memory of waking up, in this bed, to the sound of…Arkady giggling?

With a frown of confusion, Sana groans again, then sighs. She normally tries to watch her limits a little better than this. Oh well. Deep or no Deep, as Captain, she should probably go check on her ship.

Rubbing her eyes, she steps out of bed, and immediately has to pinwheel her arms to avoid tripping over the sleeping form of Violet, who is stretched out on the floor of Sana’s cabin. Arkady is twined around her, an arm slung around Violet’s chest and her face in the crook of Violet’s neck.

It’s extremely cute, though Sana can’t for the life of her guess why it’s happening on the floor of her cabin. She frowns, noticing that both of their eyes look puffy from lack of sleep. Well, Arkady and Violet awake in here at what Arkady would call “shit o’clock in the morning” would at least explain that last memory. Kind of.

As soon as she steps into the dimlylit hallway, she is hit by the welcome aroma of coffee. Feeling like a bloodhound on a scent trail, Sana heads toward the mess hall.

As she passes the bathroom, she sees what looks like an empty mug on the floor next to the doorway, along with someone’s—Brian’s—glasses. Sana picks up the glasses and polishes them absentmindedly on her shirt, tucking them into a pocket.

There’s also a bedraggled feather boa hanging off the sign on the supply closet door, and Sana squints groggily at it. Since when did the Iris 2 even have a feather boa?

As she comes up on the mess hall, Sana can see that its sunlights are up as well, but at least the mess hall makes up for them with a noticeable increase in coffee aroma. Rubbing her eyes again, Sana gingerly makes her way through the doorway, but before she can step around the corner to the kitchen half of the space, she is stopped by a sight not unlike the one in her cabin.

The hammock Sana rigged up—this one not from safety harnesses—is empty in the bright sunlight, but under it, three of her crewmates are sprawled in a sleeping pile. Krejjh is lying on their back, snoring loudly. Brian seems to have taken it upon himself to act as a human pillow for their injured knee, lying with their leg draped over his shoulder. And, a foot above him, the person who inflicted that injury is lying with their head pillowed on Krejjh’s stomach and Krejjh’s arm around their waist. McCabe is snoring almost as loudly as Krejjh is, their cheek squished against Krejjh’s sweater.

Sana stares in bemusement for another second before shaking her head fondly and inching around the tableau, making her way around the corner into the kitchen.

Park is standing at the counter, fully dressed and pouring himself a cup of coffee. Sana blinks at him for a second before the rest of her brain kicks in. “Park! Good morning.”

Though Sana is sure she made plenty of noise rounding the corner, Park looks oddly startled to see her, keeping his eyes directed at the mug and coffeepot in his hands for a long second before turning to meet her gaze. “Captain. Good morning.” His eyes drop momentarily away and he clears his throat awkwardly. Meeting her eyes again, he asks, “Would you like some coffee?”

“I would love some coffee.” Sana stares greedily at the steaming hot liquid in the mug in Park’s hands. Park has very nice hands, strong and sure as they set the coffeepot on the counter and pass the mug…to her?

Sana stares at the mug for a second before her brain kicks in again and she stretches out a hand to take it. “Park, being the captain doesn’t give me coffee priority,” she tells him, amused.

“It will be a hardship to take another thirty seconds to pour my own,” Park intones, deadpan, as he takes another mug down from the cabinet, “but no sacrifice for my commanding officer is too great.”

“Point taken.” Sana chuckles as she raises the mug to her nose, sniffing it blissfully before taking a sip. Oh, that’s good. “Thank you, Park.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.” Park replaces the coffeepot in the coffeemaker, raising his own mug to his lips. “You look like you need it.”

Sana eyes him suspiciously. Was that a drag? His voice is as bland as ever, but of course with Park that doesn’t mean anything.

Setting the mug down on the counter, she raises a pessimistic hand to her hair. Sure enough, she can feel it escaping its former ponytail to form a chaotic frame around her face. Glancing down, she can see that her shirt, which was already stained with engine oil, is crooked, Brian’s glasses still poking out of her pocket. At least she wasn’t wearing any makeup last night. “I must look a disaster.”

Park snorts into his coffee. “Don’t worry, Captain, you always look—” He blinks, as if his own brain is suddenly catching up with his mouth. “Like a captain,” he finishes lamely.

Sana smirks, wondering what he was going to say. “Like the undisciplined captain of a scrappy smuggling ship, you mean?” She eyes Park’s tidy button-down shirt, pilfered from one of the storage lockers onboard. “I guess to your discerning eye, a hungover smuggler captain with hair from here to Neptune isn’t that different from a smuggler captain at her glossiest.”

“Something like that,” Park says drily, taking another sip of coffee, and Sana laughs.

“Thanks for the coffee, Park. I definitely needed it.” She winces. “It seems like last night got a little…wild.”

“I think certain members of the crew, including you, may have…imbibed a little more than originally planned.”

“Yes, I’ve been getting that picture,” Sana says drily, wincing again. “Park, I…do usually try to watch my limits a little better than this. I’m not sure exactly…” She trails off.

“Well, you can lay part of the blame for that on that final, uh, drinking game.”

Park’s voice has turned suspiciously sheepish on the last words. “Drinking game?” Sana prompts.

“Truth or dare.” Park’s voice is mild again. “Specifically, the part when your pilot said, ‘Time to get Cap’n Tripathi wasteeedddd—’ Park’s Krejjh impression is eerily on point. “To which you said, ‘Someone needs to be able to keep an eye on the emergency alarms,’ to which Patel said, ‘Violet and I already agreed to stop for the night, Sana can get fucked up if she wants to.’” He sets his empty mug on the counter, reaching for the coffeepot. “At which point Liu said something to the effect of, ‘Go, Captain, go! Woooooohoo!’”

Sana groans.

Park looks amused, though this fades a little as he adds, “Uh, I think the thinking was that those who were a little more sober would keep an eye on the rest of us, but after McCabe dared you to drink straight from the bottle, things got a little…out of hand? If, uhm, memory serves—” He winces, the first visual indicator Sana has seen underlining his self-categorization in ‘the rest of us.’ “If memory serves, that was when Liu did think to spirit the booze elsewhere. She and Patel went to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t, um, stop breathing, and things here—” He nods toward the pile of crew under the hammock, “wound down to their natural conclusion.”

Krejjh, Arkady, Violet, RJ, I am going to kill all four of you, Sana thinks, though she has to concede that the person she’s actually mad at, or maybe rattled by, is herself. Getting drunk is one thing; passing out too drunk to be left alone is a different story.

For right now, she just sighs. “Sounds like we need to revisit our protocols for how much booze gets brought out in one night.”

Park has raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth at ‘protocols,’ but Sana premeditates him. “Informal protocols. The word ‘protocol’ was probably never spoken.”

Park snorts again, taking another sip of coffee.

“Anyway, thank you for the update, Park.” Sana leans against the counter. “At least no harm was done.” She thinks back to Arkady giggling in the early hours of the morning, and the puffiness of her and Violet’s eyes. They must have stayed awake until morning keeping an eye on her. Well, at least they seem to have kept each other entertained.

“Yes. Um.” Park sounds uncharacteristically uncertain. “About that. I’m…uh, I’m glad I happened to catch you this morning before the others…Well. Alone.”

Sana frowns curiously at him.

When he begins again, his voice is professional. Too professional.

“Captain. I’d like to apologize for what I said last night.” He winces. “Uh. Even if you don’t remember what I’m apologizing for, which it seems you don’t. But if you happen to, or someone mentions it…I thought I should apologize.” He squares his shoulders. “It was a tactless thing to say and I give you my assurance that it will not impact our working relationship going forward.”

Sana eyes him, deciding on a gentle, “It sounds like we were all pretty drunk, Park. Whatever you said, unless it was a confession of…I don’t know…” She tries to think of a crime that would actually set him apart from the rest of her crew. “Killing…a planet…for fun, I think we can overlook some less than tactful words.”

“It wasn’t,” Park mumbles into his coffee. “That kind of confession.”

Sana frowns again, confused.

“During the ‘Truth or Dare’ game.” Park’s voice is a careful monotone. “Krejjh asked me, ‘Former Agent Park, if you were to smooch anyone on this ship, who would it be?’ and I said, well, you.”

“Oh.” Sana takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She can see why Park is freaked out, but, she tells herself, it all sounds fairly standard for a drunken crew escapade. It didn’t—doesn’t—mean anything more than that. “Well, it sounds like they didn’t give you the option of saying ‘Absolutely no one aboard, thank you,’ so picking the first crewmember you could think of who wasn’t in a committed monogamous relationship sounds like a very reasonable…”

“I also said,” Park continues miserably, “that you were not only the smartest criminal I’d ever tracked but also the sexiest captain I’d ever met, that Roderick Quincy Cresswin Junior didn’t know what he was giving up when he betrayed you and left you and everyone you cared about to die horribly on Cresswin Landing, that if Ignatius Campbell loves you as much as it sounds like he does then he was an idiot not to kiss your beautiful face last time you were on Telemachus, and that anyone lucky enough to love you should strew nuts and bolts and rivets and flowers in your wake wherever you walked. Or flew.”

Upon finishing this recounting, Park stares into the middle distance, and Sana leans against the counter, staring at him.

“Park,” she says feebly, “You know I’m not technically a captain, right? I don’t have any accredited training—”

Park, who still looks like he wants the kitchen floor to swallow him up, gives this the non-answer it deserves, and Sana takes another few seconds to compose a less inane response.

“Well,” she says, in her best captaining voice, “Sometimes when a group of humans drink together, some, uh, horny language happens. People find other peoples’ bodies attractive; booze removes some verbal filters around that. You were too far gone to have the filters you would have wanted to have; you clearly didn’t mean it in a creepy way, and it doesn’t have to affect anything in our working relationship.”

Park relaxes. “Thank you, Captain.”

He hesitates, still looking a little uncomfortable. “While we’re discussing this, I should add for the sake of completeness that I feel a certain attraction to you all the time. It wasn’t just finding you, uhm, ‘sexy’ while I was inebriated. But I assure you I won’t let it affect our working rel—”

“You do?” Sana interrupts. She can feel herself staring at him as several weeks’ worth of pieces finally fall into place.

She’s definitely blushing.

“I do.”

“Park,” Sana says gently. “For the sake of…completeness…I’ll add that I feel a certain attraction to you. All the time. As well. But—”

Sana looks at him, really looks athim: this attractive man who three weeks ago was an IGR agent representing everything Sana is against, who calls her Captain and still flinches at sudden movements in his peripheral vision.

“But,” Park finishes for her, “there are a lot of ‘buts.’”

“Yes.”

“Whatimesit?” Across the room, Brian is blinking in the faux morning light, looking bemused to see his fiancé’s leg draped over his shoulder. “Wheresmglasses?”

At his motion, Krejjh starts to stir. RJ blinks and makes a face at the sunlights, squeezing their eyes shut and trying to bury their face in Krejjh’s sweater.

Sana smiles at Park. He gives her a small smile back, and Sana feels as though they have settled themselves onto the same team, two people facing a universe of strangeness both external and internal.

“We’ll talk about this more. Sometime.”

Park nods, his usual taciturn motion.

“Good morning, crew,” Sana calls as she makes her way toward the pile of hungover crewmates under the hammock. “Good news! Park made coffee!”

[be-ace-write-crime]

Lovely Bride - Third Wedding Night

Only one pillarman left who's trust you'll have to win more than any other. Unfortunately Kars may be your greatest challenge yet. You woke up having no idea how much time had passed, but you knew for sure you weren’t in the same bed. The single candle by your bedside was on a different table and these black silk sheets were not the ones you had buried your hands in when Esidisi made love to you last night. Also the light of the candle only reached the one wall the table and the bed were set up against, meaning this room had to be bigger than Esidisi or Wamuu’s rooms.

“You’re finally awake.”

The level, indifferent voice of Kars breaking through the quiet darkness made you jump, sitting upright in the bed, sheets pulled up to your chest.

“It’s only me,” he remarked, stepping into the light so you could see him. That put your mind at ease a little, but not completely. Of all the pillar men, Kars still scared you. He had a calculated coldness about him that overshadowed his more human side, which you had only caught glimpses of.

“Good morning,” you murmured, for lack of anything better to say. “Lord Kars,” you quickly added, bowing your head.

“It’s evening, actually,” he said, giving you an amused smile as he came to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning in close. You naturally pulled back upon having him enter your personal space, but with practically nowhere to go you just pulled the covers up until you were almost hiding like a child. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

You considered the question. You weren’t hurting anywhere. You considered how you were feeling emotionally and your barely awake self quickly dropped that hornet's nest and decided to ignore it for now. “I feel fine, master,” you answered.

“Good. You may go out if you wish. You may sleep here as well. I rarely do. I have no intention of consummating our marriage with you tonight. Enough damage has been done to you already,” he said.

You felt a slight sting upon his dismissal and couldn’t keep your mouth shut. “What do you mean by damage? You were the one to suggest Wamuu be my first…”

“I did, but I didn’t expect him to be so careless I would be asked to abandon my work in the middle of the night to rearrange your insides after you had fallen unconscious. Nor did I expect Esidisi to bring you into his bed and do the same thing,” he answered, sounding and looking obviously annoyed. Your eyes went wide and he chuckled dryly. “What? Didn’t you find it strange to awaken without a hint of pain after laying with a pair of gods, little one?”

“I did… a little… I didn’t know you’d had to…” you trailed off, cheeks burning.

“Esidisi brought you here, covered in blood, which thankfully turned out to be his, at least mostly,” he said, cupping your cheek and looking into your eyes as if he were searching for something. You held his gaze, like a deer facing headlights, until he spoke again. “He asked if I would consider giving you the antidote now,” he said, which made you perk up, but his expression remained unreadable. “I will not allow you to die, but you won’t receive the antidote from me just yet,” he answered, which made your heart sink.

“M-May I ask why…?” you whispered.

“As it stands that ring is the only thing binding you to me. I am not prepared to give it up. Not yet,” he responded.

“You have my word,” you said, clutching your sheets a little tighter. Kars shook his head, unmoved, but his eyes softened somewhat.

“Perhaps I could present you with something else to show you my trust? Stand up,” he ordered, standing up himself. You could feel your face burning with embarrassment as you stood before him, naked as the day you were born.

He gently tipped up your chin and kissed your lips and you relaxed thinking that was it. You should really know better by now.

“Don’t flinch, just breathe,” he ordered softly, and before the meaning of those words could register in your brain you felt a stabbing blow right to the center of your chest, knocking all the air out of you. Your eyes went wide and you fell into his arms, trying to push him off at the same time as if it might give you more room to breathe.

Your husband stood over you, studying your reaction and drawing back his hand. He’d just about stabbed you with his pinky, forcing all the muscles in your chest to contract, and you couldn’t fight this reflex, desperately attempting to force breath into your aching chest to no avail.

Teary eyed you fought to draw air into your lungs, all your strength focused on the singular task until you were finally rewarded with the blissful feeling of air flooding your lungs, chest expanding and your extremities tingling as your oxygen was finally replenished.

Kars reached for you and on reflex you slapped his hand away, once bitten, twice shy. To your horror your hand striking his left a large, blistered mark, like you’d shaved off the skin with a burning hot razor. He looked as surprised as you that you’d done it, looking at you with wide eyes. He regained his bearings more quickly than you, smirking and licking his wounds before they healed completely, as if they had never been there.

“I’m glad to see you so lively, but try not to do that again,” he warned you.

“I-I’m sorry, lord Kars! It won’t happen again!” you declared, bowing your head. Still the warmth like sunlight shining from inside kept radiating from within you.

“I studied the scrolls you brought back. Much trivial history and things we had already learned firsthand about your tribe, but this here struck my interest. A means to awaken one’s latent Hamon abilities,” he explained, taking a pitted grape from the basket Esidisi had collected for you and placing it in your hands. The pit sprouted in your hands in the complete darkness of the catacombs. “If the sun is half as bright and wonderful as you, my love, then every second we spent in darkness will have been worth it,” he whispered.

You looked down, awestruck. You’d seen some warriors forcing already budding flowers into bloom to impress girls before, but this seemed far beyond that. Probably since Kars just awakened your powers, you assumed, but you were glowing with excitement nonetheless.

“Get dressed. You are free to practice in both your healing and combat as you see fit. I have much left to do and as night falls Esidisi, Wamuu and I must depart in our search for the stone,” he instructed, tossing you a small bag from the side table behind your basket.

“Y-Yes, thank you, lord Kars…” you said, quickly taking the clothes from the bag and figuring how to put them on. You were surprised to find the soft, black garments to be a two piece set in a similar style as what your husbands preferred to wear. It provided solid covering for every part that really needed it, with translucent silk draped lavishly down your legs like a loincloth, giving the illusion it was only a dark shadow protecting your modesty underneath, as it left your legs clearly visible.

You combed your hair and arranged the jewelry Kars had added to the bag to match, blushing madly. A prostitute would not have dressed so daringly in your little village, and you could feel Kars’ eyes on you like a predator watching its prey. Thankfully Esidisi had left you your dagger and its sheath, which you attached to the waistband of your new attire.

“I wanted you to have this, as you are one of us, but I trust I won’t have to tell you not to let any humans see you like this,” he said, taking the last item from your hands and placing it on your head. It was an elaborate piece of gold chains, coming together around your forehead with a teardrop shaped diamond charm.

“I won’t, master,” you said, face red, yet feeling oddly beautiful. It struck you that he could not have stolen or bought garments like these anywhere and they seemed to be fitted to your form perfectly, meaning either he commissioned this specifically for you, or he had made you these himself. The thought made you shiver, right as his fingers carding through your hair found the shell of your ear, tugging lightly at the lobe.

“If you’ll allow me, I would like to pierce your ears. Perhaps somewhere else as well?” he purred, making the shivers intensify tenfold. “Hmm, but not tonight. I have kept you here long enough and I have things to do before night falls.”

“Yes, master,” you said, taking your candle and your basket. Kars turned around to retreat back into the darkness, most likely to some kind of workspace you couldn’t see. Hopefully you could spend some time with him just before dawn when he returned. For now you would enjoy the sunset and a little snack, one of your private pleasures which you unfortunately couldn’t share with your husbands.

You weren’t sure where you were, but you noticed you were more sensitive to the vibrations around you as you wandered the underground halls. You slowed to a stop and rummaged through the basket, picking up the bottle of wine and a silver chalice cup, pouring to just below the rim and studying the ripples in the vessel carefully.

You also fully planned on drinking this later. Never mind you had just woken up, it was evening and you had reasons to drink. The more you watched the surface, the better you were able to read the ripples as it were. You could sense Kars in the room behind you, heavy footsteps of Wamuu and Esidisi above you, and several things… skittering all around.

One was getting closer, approaching, but hovering just outside the light of your candle. As you moved, it moved with you, stalking you almost.

“I know you’re there,” you called out to it, now a good ways away from Kars’ room, but not knowing if you were any closer to the stairs or not.

“It’s a bit early to be drinking, isn’t it, (Y/N)? Though I suppose it doesn’t matter when you plan to live as a spoilt, drunken wench, just like your mother,” a raspy vampire voice sneered, dropping from the ceiling and stepping into the light.

“What the…” you muttered, less fazed by the insults than you were by this vampire speaking to you, let alone speaking to you like that! You were their superior, although you had yet to put that claim to the test. This one didn’t seem too impressed by your status.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Debauching yourself for the monsters that murdered our kind?!” the vampire hissed, prowling closer to you.

“I am doing what you people asked of me. Meanwhile you are one of the monsters that murdered our kind,” you responded, backing away slowly. You had the candle holder in your dominant hand, the chalice in the other. If you dropped the candle, you’d be in the dark, but you could reach for your dagger. If you dropped the cup, you’d still have the light, but you’d fumble with the dagger in your nondominant hand. You could cry out for help, but this vampire was close enough to be in the light of your flame and it would only need a split second to rip your throat out. It didn’t have to drain you of blood. It wasn’t cornering you just because it was hungry. This one had a grudge against you.

“Don’t provoke me, you disgusting little witch,” he sneered, still coming closer while you backed away. You prayed someone heard you. Your husbands, some other vampire looking to get in their good graces, but you could sense nothing. You weren’t sure how far their supernatural hearing range was, but clearly underground it wasn’t far enough.

Fear was messing with your breathing, making it shallow and weak. You hadn’t trained your hamon, barely knew how to use it at all, and even the faintest sparks of it died as you were almost hyperventilating.

“I don’t even know who you are,” you murmured, looking him up and down. His youthful face and physique were decidedly unfamiliar to you, but he must have been someone from your tribe or maybe some frequently passing merchant, but you drew a complete blank.

“I spent my entire life defending our tribe. I raised warriors by the dozens. I was the reason you had a home, only for you to whore yourself out to the monsters that killed the men who fought and died for you,” he growled under his breath and finally you recognised who you had in front of you and you couldn’t hold back a snorted laugh.

The ‘general’ of your village. He’d been old as dirt by the time you were born, and now he was older still, but the stone mask had restored much of his youth. He didn’t give a damn about the warriors he raised, and he sure as hell didn’t respect them the way your husbands did. He became a vampire by choice, betraying your people, eating them, to save his own skin.

“Right… You abandoned our tribe and begged for mercy, at the cost of their lives , but you call me a traitorous whore?!” you demanded, feeling a flare of vindication at the furious look on the bastard’s face. He was going to murder you, but knowing you got under the self-righteous bastard’s skin was worth it a dozen times over

You were out of time. With the vampire exactly one giant leap away from you, you dropped the candle, the little flame snuffed out by the fall. In a fluent motion you grabbed your blade, catching the gleam of the monster’s teeth right before all went dark around you. He tried to trick you, waiting a split second in the dark so that your reflexive swing would miss and he’d have a clear shot at your throat. What your bloodsucking enemy hadn’t realized was that you had been reading his movements with the ripples in your cup this whole time.

That brief little taste of revenge over the proud bastard looking down on you pushed down your fear enough to get your breathing under control, loading your dagger up with hamon and slashing with every ounce of strength you had.

For a moment you thought you missed, feeling no resistance, waiting to feel claws and fangs shredding your flesh, letting out the blood curdling scream you’d been choking on since that glorified leech first stepped into the light of your flame, but nothing happened.

You were breathing hard, and finally your scream seemed to have drawn your husbands’ attention. Kars was the first to catch up, Esidisi and Wamuu flying down the stairs at the end of the long hall. Esidisi’s flaming aura bathed the stone hallway in light, and you could see what you’d done as Kars locked his arms around you and jumped back with you held flush against his chest.

Your knife had gone through him like he was made of paper, burning him up with hamon. One of his arms hung charred and shriveled up at his side and a massive, smoldering gash had opened up from his shoulder, burning up his throat and going all the way across his chest.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)? What happened?!” Wamuu demanded, a stiff breeze coursing through the underground halls and the wires of his headgear dancing around his temples.

You swallowed, looking down at the vampire who’s eyes were now wide with fear, trying to shake his head, a plea for you not to tell them. As if you would treat him any more kindly than them.

“Please let go…” you murmured. Kars shook like letting go physically strained him, but did and tried to check if you were injured in some way he hadn’t noticed and was hurting you, but you shrugged off his concern. “Thank you, my masters… for the freedom and power you have given me… so that I can kill this hypocrite whore myself!” you yelled, landing a near perfect hamon kick against the side of the vampire’s skull. It exploded like a bag of dust being kicked, the rest of its body falling limp on the floor.

“Did it attack you, (Y/N)?” Esidisi asked. It was hard for them to believe. Their vampires were obedient, but it wasn’t impossible, and certainly more likely than their bride going haywire like this.

“No, it was coming in for a hug! Yes, he attacked me. He said I was…” you sniffled, still instinctively wanting to hide your tears, even in front of Esidisi and Wamuu. You looked back at Kars, who you could only guess was shaking with rage, and you regretted being a smartass with your comments again. “I’m sorry for my outburst, but…” you weren’t sure what else to say.

Without exchanging another word, Esidisi torched the corpse and Wamuu scattered its ashes as if it had never been there. Kars dragged you back into his arms, hugging you tight enough that some joints in your back popped.

“They can’t be trusted…” the eldest of the pillar men muttered, his glare focussing on his two companions. “Get rid of any vampire that was once a hamon user. I will not have our bride endangered within our own home,” he said, with barely restrained rage as he hoisted you into his arms and turned around to take you back to his room.

“Master… There are so many. It’ll be next to impossible to-”

Esidisi was cut off when his master half turned and screamed loud enough to hurt your ears. “THEN KILL THEM ALL!”

You were trembling like a leaf in his arms. Esidisi and Wamuu looked conflicted at each other before bowing and responding in unison.

“Yes, lord Kars!”

Kars took you back to his room and the oppressive darkness was less frightening in his arms, but in the dark you could hear his fangs grinding together, his frustrated, snarled breathing, and the distant screams of his vampire army being slaughtered in the pitch black caves.

“What happened?” he eventually asked. “I let you out of our sight for two minutes…”

“I’m sorry, lord Kars…” you whispered, wiling your voice to stay calm. “I guess it held a grudge towards me for… marrying you and being allowed to live…” you tried to explain.

“I understand that,” he responded tersely. “But WHAT. HAPPENED?!”

“I was able to sense him stalking me in the dark. I called out. He insulted me, my mother and the warriors of my tribe and I responded in kind… He leapt at me and I cut him with the dagger Wamuu let me have… I dropped the candle and lost control of my breathing, so I couldn’t pinpoint him in the dark and screamed and… You know what happened after that…”

“Stupid fragile human…” he muttered, making you cringe. He laid you back down on his bed and laid there with you, keeping you locked tight against his chest. “I won’t allow you to die. I will conquer the sun, the earth and all its wretched creatures if I must. I won’t let you be taken from me.”

You shivered, hiding your face against his chest. The soft mattress dulled the vibrations and this deep into the temple’s catacombs you could scarcely hear the dying screams, the crackling flames and roaring winds.

Without the vampires, who would search for the stone? How could you possibly uncover the treasure they had searched for all these centuries without the hundreds of undead that made up their army to act as their eyes and ears? Was this your fault? Would you be forced to part with your beloved in a month’s time because they could never find the stone at this rate?

It felt like an eternity, but in less than an hour it was done. Kars seemed to know when it was over, picking you up and cradling you gently against his chest as he carried you back, through the halls, up the stairs and eventually into the cool evening air. You could see the ash stained clothes of vampires who would rather take their chances against the sun than die at the hands of their masters. You remembered vividly the general’s face as your foot collided with his skull, skin burning up like a paper mask, flesh tearing and crumbling like burned up charcoal, before the impact splattered the ash like remnants into the air. You could visualize it in slow motion in your mind.

You felt proud. What you’d done was incredible! You’d never imagined you could achieve something like that, and just in the nick of time. At the same time you felt guilty. Not for the act itself, but for feeling proud of something that would inevitably snowball into such a mess.

“It is done, lord Kars,” Esidisi said. You could tell he was every bit as tense as you were, hanging back out of his master’s striking range, although he still smiled to comfort you, and so you smiled back.

“Well done, both of you,” Kars said, sitting on his throne, still holding you as he looked out over the valley. The lights of your village were still dark, and the stars were so much brighter for it, but even their twinkling was of little comfort to you right now.

“If I may say so, my lord. Our dear bride defended herself admirably,” Wamuu said, your smile widening into a grin. Wamuu admired strength above all things. Even if fighting a vampire might have been a small feat to him, he knew you had done something truly incredible in defeating such a powerful opponent.

“She shouldn’t have had to defend herself in the first place…” Kars remarked, dampening your mood again.

“You said I was free to train in combat as I saw fit just minutes before it happened…” You pointed out. Your stomach was in knots already and had been for the better part of an hour. By then you’d rather get it over with and have him snap than to endure his quiet, simmering rage.

“I meant for you to practice, perhaps spar with one of us or some of those pests who would actually obey and protect you. You realize you were inches from death?!” he demanded, fisting a hand in your hair, making you wince.

“I have been inches from death since you and those pests came here! I could have been eaten weeks ago and every second I have been here! I killed the only pest that mattered and you just-”

“Enough!” he yelled, striking at the cracked armrest at his side, shattering it completely. There was dead silence all around. “Be more mindful… of your mortality, little one…” he breathed. His eyes were blazing red and his mane seemed to bristle like that of an angered beast. You nodded as best you could with the iron grip on your own hair, which he eventually released. You didn’t need to be told to get off his lap, you got the hint, watching with teary eyes as he shook off the strands he had pulled out of your scalp.

“We’ll be back by morning,” Kars announced, disappearing in a flash. Esidisi helped you stand, and Wamuu pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You truly fought as brilliantly as the shining dawn, beloved. We shall be with you again before the first light of sunrise,” your first husband whispered, before they too were forced to depart. You nodded and bid them good luck in their search, waiting until you were sure they were out of sight and earshot before angrily kicking the ash stained rags and pebbles around.

“As if that ring you forced on me does too little to remind me what an untrustworthy little mortal I am, lord Kars! I am thoroughly humbled by your gracious gift of conditional mercy! I shall happily bear the weight of my bastard father’s deceit of thee, great and all knowing gods!” you rambled, heading down the mountain with a torch, since there was nothing left to harm you now. People knew not to tread near your village and the monsters haunting it and all the vampires were now gone. At worst you might encounter a wild animal, but those were easily chased off with a torch. Your village lay abandoned still. You felt a wave of guilt as some pets your people held flocked towards you upon seeing you, in search of food and care. Determined to be a better master than Kars and swallow your anger for now, you went around tearing open pantries and food stores. It wouldn’t last them long, but before the time on your ring ran out some humans would realize the structures had been left uninhabited and most of them would find new homes with new owners. Your food back at the temple had gone to waste in a cloud of corpse you kicked up, so for the first time in days you cooked yourself a proper meal.

Releasing the livestock would kill them, so you dutifully went around feeding them too. The sheep and the pigs and the handful of goats and cows and eventually the horses.

Many warriors kept magnificent horses. They were a point of pride and you found them just in time as many were ready to hurt themselves on the fences or stables enclosing them in search of food.

One that caught your attention most was Aries, the big black war-horse that had killed two people in the marketplace once. It was known to be an absolute nightmare, held in check with sharp spikes on its bit and sharper strikes from its master’s whip.

It was a beautiful horse, but it seemed to bristle at your very presence. You laid out food for the huffing and sputtering creature and opened the stable door, jumping aside as quick as you could. It would be both cruel and dangerous to try to herd it back into the stable again, so you decided he might as well roam free. If someone more daring or less cautious than you tried to tame it later, that would be their concern.

You did the same for any other stabled horses, hoping they would be able to live the long and healthy lives they deserved in freedom.

You gathered a new basket of supplies and with a sour expression you headed back up the mountain to await your husbands’ return.

For a while you were able to ignore the steady hoofbeats behind you, though they were easier to sense than any vampire, but after a while it got too close to be a coincidence and you searched the darkness with the light of your torch, which was nearing its end. You could just barely make out the gracefully trotting black mass, its fur shiny in the firelight.

“Aries, no. This is for me. There’s more food down there,” you said, noting the behemoth was more calm now that it had eaten. “Here, last little snack, then go run,” you said, feeding him an apple, which he took without biting or fussing.

It was obvious it was following you and you tried to stop an obvious idea from forming in your mind, but it was too late.

“The moment I put a saddle on you, you’ll kick and stagger, injure me and enrage lord Kars. You were not made to be ridden, and you were most definitely not made to pull a cart,” you told him sternly, only to have him rub his giant head against you like a massive cat.

“I chose you,” the bastard seemed to say. “I chose you, so deal with the consequences.”

“Terrible, awful, murderous demon baby you are,” you muttered absently a while later as you were cautiously brushing down the massive horse, unable to keep the affection out of your tone. “Almost as bad as the terrible, awful, murderous demon husbands I married. I love you and I love them, but they talk about as well as you do,” you said. “I would have gladly helped look for the stone. I’d have gone out during the day and actually searched, asked people, anything. Instead I’m… Well I probably spent more time on my back than anything,” you noted, red faced as you dragged the heavy saddle out for Aries to see. He neighed and you slowly put on his blanket first. Then the saddle.

“Maybe I won’t be there to wait for him come morning. Make him worry while he hides in the shade another day,” you said, laughing at the stupidity of it. You weren’t going to do that. It’d be suicide. “More likely you’re about to throw me and break my limbs and then after Esidisi is going to laugh at me for being stupid, Wamuu will carry me around like a wounded bird and Kars will mope around sneering about what a stupid, fragile human he picked up,” you said out loud, taking a deep breath and using your hamon to boost your strength as you hoisted yourself onto his back.

“So far so good…” you whispered, stroking his neck. “I wonder where they are right now. The capital, or some port city, no doubt. You know I’ve never seen the ocean before, have you?” you mused, daring to spur him into a trot with a light squeeze of your calves. You had no reigns. He’d snapped and backed away when you only just approached with a headpiece, so that was out of the question. You’d ridden an old little pony without reigns as a child, though this hardly compared. “The ocean is less than twenty miles away. You could make that in a day, couldn’t you, Aries? Or a night… We’d ride past the capital too. We could search for lord Kars’ dumb stone,” you said, steering him through the desolate streets of your hometown with light kicks and tugs on his mane.

You really weren’t dressed for riding, but you had some proper riding clothes in your old home. You wouldn’t be back before sunrise, if you made it at all, and you had never traveled this far outside your village before. It was madness, but a heady mixture of fear and spite was urging you on.

You already had that cursed ring that promised you a swift ending. Why should you spend thirty days as a plaything if Kars wouldn’t commit to sparing you now?

You were already putting on your hardiest clothes over the more delicate ones you had been given and mounting your horse again when you realized you probably wouldn’t have been able to mount Aries in the first place without your hamon. The gift Kars had given you to show his trust and how he never showed the barest hint of anger when you struck him.

He wasn’t mad at you. He was almost forced to face an eternity without you and it distressed him to the point of lashing out.

“Maybe I’ll ask Lord Kars to accompany us to the ocean when he comes home this morning.”

“Good morning,” Kars’ calm voice still startled you and your reaction startled Aries, who stomped and huffed angrily.

“Good morning, lord Kars,” you said, trying to shush the horse. Kars watched you quietly while you calmed the giant you had brought back to the temple.

“You’re quite good at that,” he noted, coming up behind you. You quirked a brow and looked back at him, waiting to see if there was something more to that statement or if it was some kind of joke you didn’t understand. Yesterday he wouldn’t acknowledge an expert kill you made, but now he was complimenting your skills with a horse? “You have a calming air about you. It puts me at ease. Your animal compatriot senses it too. I feel a sense of contentment when you’re near that nothing else brings me,” he explained and you bit your tongue to hold back another snarky remark pointing out he didn’t exactly seem calm last night.

“Please forgive my behavior last night. I meant no offense by my words and I realize your aspirations have now suffered on my behalf. You destroyed your army to keep me safe after one soldier threatened me and your search for the stone-”

“Ssshh, my sun. No sacrifice is too great for you,” he assured you, pulling you close. “The thought of being helpless to protect you while you’re out in the sun vexes me to no end. Tonight I almost lost you when I let my guard down and I could never forgive myself if I… we had lost you forever due to my carelessness…” he explained, enveloping you in the same desperately tight hold that kept you pressed firmly against him while his army was slain. “My frustration was never directed at you… and tonight gave me some time to realize that the only reason you are alive, was because I gave you the freedom to fight back and to keep you as a caged bird at my side would not serve to keep you safe,” he went on, pressing a small vial into your hand. “The antidote.”

You smiled and reached back, carding your fingers through his hair. Gods, it was beautiful enough to make you jealous.

“Thank you for trusting me, master. I shall keep it with me, until you find the stone,” you said. He exhaled sharply, taking the hand that was combing through his hair and kissing it.

“Let me take you to bed, beloved. I cannot wait any longer,” he breathed.

“Let me take care of Aries. The sun is almost up. I shall join you shortly,” you said, releasing a rather undignified noise when you were picked up and thrown over his shoulder instead.

“Wamuu, tend to our beloved’s new pet,” he ordered. You saw Wamuu appear from the shadows in the pale of dawn, smiling at you and his master, then full on grinning at Aries.

“You have chosen a magnificent steed, dear (Y/N)! I shall be glad to assist in its care,” he announced. “I am also glad to see you and lord Kars have reconciled.”

“Ah, wait! He can be quite violent, but he’s good to me. Don’t hurt him!” you called out as you were carried away.

“Is she talking about Wamuu?” Esidisi asked, only just arriving as you were carried past him.

“She is talking about a horse she brought back. Get inside, Esidisi,” Kars answered, walking faster when Esidisi snorted a laugh.

“I have not seen you retreat to your sleeping quarters with such urgency in millennia, dear Kars,” he called after you two.

You were thrown onto his bed again. It had to be his, because it was so soft and also you bounced twice without falling off the other side.

“How dare you wear so many clothes?” he asked. Now you were not familiar with their language in the least, but you were fairly confident this roughly translated into: “You have until I am on top of you to get those clothes off and whatever is still on you is getting shredded.”

“I needed something to wear when riding Aries,” you explained, getting your old clothes off, as well as the silk bottoms of the two piece attire he’d gifted you, which you were still wearing underneath. You could sense some movement a little ways away from you, then a bright rain of sparks as Kars dragged some kind of blade against the stone of a fireplace, lighting a fire inside that grew steadily until you could finally see around the dark room. There was a dragon’s hoard of treasure laid out between the stone fireplace and the bed, glimmering in the dancing light of the fire. On the walls were enormous maps of places you had never even heard of before, some covered with pins and strings, detailing impossibly long journeys. In the corner was a desk that had to be as heavy as your newly acquired warhorse, covered in fine tools, rocks and white sand. No doubt he had been carving more stone masks, but didn’t he have enough of those already? You had a hundred things to ask about every corner of the room, but you were stunned silent and motionless at the most dazzling sight of all.

Kars usually wasn’t very fond of clothes, be it yours or for himself, but for tonight’s occasion even the minimal clothing he usually wore was too much. Bared naked except for his jewelry, he stalked closer to his darling prey on the bed, the smirk on his face telling he knew exactly what your awestruck expression was for.

“Those clothes might suit you for riding Aries, but you’ll have no need for them when riding me,” he purred smoothly, sharp fangs glinting as brightly as the jewelry adorning his regal features while he grinned down at you.

You gripped the soft, black sheets, wanting to touch, but unsure if it was allowed, like hovering by a priceless artwork. You weren’t sure if he meant it, or if he was just teasing you. He always preferred to be in charge with everything. Why would he choose a position that let you take the lead now?

“Y-You wish for me to…” you trailed off, not daring to repeat the phrase. He silenced you with his lips against yours, guiding your hands to comb through his hair and caress his perfectly sculpted form.

“Ride me. Take your pleasure and serve me as your lover and master. Give yourself entirely to me as my bride,” he reaffirmed, he was already hard when he guided one of your hands to stroke him. You were a bit more sure of yourself by now, knowing no amount of strength from you could seriously hurt or injure him. It helped that Kars wasn’t as monstrously thick as Wamuu had been and gripping as firmly as you could without impeding the slide of your fingers on his skin you managed to work your master’s hard cock in a way that made his painted blue eyes flutter shut.

“Yes, lord Kars,” you agreed breathlessly, coaxing him to lie back and let you get on top with just a small push. He looked up at you with a mixture of reverence and cocksure amusement, guiding you into another languid kiss before whispering his next command in your ear.

“I want you to use your mouth on me, beloved. Let me see your pretty, pink lips wrapped around my cock while you choke on it,” he said, his words making your stomach tighten with excitement. For any human men you might have found the act far less appealing, but for Kars you would happily oblige.

Your master’s dick was as unnaturally perfect as the rest of him. It was long, straight, the plump head flushed slightly darker and glistening with a smear of pearly white fluid. Your godly mate lacked all the smelly, hairy and sweaty human traits that might have made this unpleasant, leaving you with only the challenge of how you were going to fit something so massive down your throat as he intended.

You weren’t sure how to go about this, simply doing what felt most natural and awaiting more guidance. Licking up the salty, savoury drops of precum that had gathered at the tip and continuing to stroke his length, it occurred to you this was your first time doing this. Not just sucking him off, but this was the first time servicing one of your husbands. Wamuu and Esidisi had both taken charge and been the ones to pleasure you throughout the nights you spent with them, claiming and treasuring you.

Kars desired you no less than either of your previous lovers and would not be opposed to serving you in any way you liked, but this was what he truly wanted more than anything. To be the one being claimed and treasured and worshipped. Knowing that you desired him enough to take him and obey his every command was intoxicating to him and it showed in his adoring, half-lidded eyes, clouded with lust.

He tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you down, forcing you to take more and more into your mouth, and despite your best efforts, his pushing against your gag reflex on every stroke had you choking and sputtering, struggling not to use your teeth, even if it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Finding it hard to concentrate, my dear morning light?” he asked, licking his lips as he watched you. Even without touching you much more than a few kisses and petting your head, you were starting to get wet, squeezing your thighs together to hold out against your own needs until your master was satisfied. “Your hamon can numb the pain of your muscles stretching beyond their usual limits and restore any damage that might cause. I will make sure you are able to breathe. Stay focussed now, little one,” he ordered, bracing his legs more firmly against the bed and giving you a few seconds to breathe in deep through your nose and try and get your hamon under control before forcing you down all the way to the base of his cock. He moaned heavenly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes to revel in the feel of you. By all accounts this should have hurt, but you felt nothing aside from the slightly uncomfortable pressure of his throbbing length down your throat and the slight sting of him pulling your hair. Clutching his strong thighs for balance, you could feel the faintest tremble to them when you reflexively tried to swallow around the massive intrusion.

“Centuries I thought no creature aside from us could ever be truly perfect… How wrong I was, my beautiful sun… I may be immortal, but it is you who is truly divine…” he praised, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “So good for me, my dear… Hmm, but I did promise to let you breathe, didn’t I?” he mused, letting you come up for air, pulling back to gasp for breath with threads of saliva connecting your pretty mouth to his dick.

“I know it’s a little overwhelming the first time, but you’re doing so well. You’re so wonderful and tight,” he praised, wiping tears of exertion from your cheeks and letting you breathe until you were ready to continue.

With their immortal bodies and stamina, the pace and strength levels humans fucked at were rarely sufficient for your husbands, who preferred to ravish you at their pace. Kars was taking this slow though, savouring the feeling and the sight of you sucking his cock all the way down, shyly meeting his gaze from behind teary lashes between his thighs.

“I’ll have Esidisi teach you properly sometime. You’re so eager to please,” he cooed, stroking your cheek as you tried your best to bob your head and take him down all the way. Honestly if the men from your tribe had even considered this use for hamon, you were sure all women would have been made to master it. Not that you would have cared to do this a second sooner or for anyone else.

The smooth glide of your master’s cock against your tongue, his hands in your hair, the subtle tremor in his voice when he spoke to praise you, all of it only served to drive you mad with want.

“Mhmm, so good to me, my darling,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent a spike of arousal straight through you as you were pulled up into another kiss. His cock, slick with your spit, brushed almost teasingly against your warm folds like a whispered promise of the pleasure you had come to crave. Pleasure you knew only your husbands could provide.

“Lord Kars… I can’t wait anymore. Please~?” you pleaded shamefully, grinding against his hard length and feeling it pulse in time with the instinctive rutting of his hips against yours.

“I gave you my permission to serve me, my precious (Y/N). I’m not stopping you now,” he said, gesturing at his flawless body with a smirk. “You will take your pleasure from riding me like the voracious mortal bitch you are. You will worship me with every whimper and cry from your lips. You are mine to cherish and adore until the end of time itself,” he purred, pulling you close and tipping your chin up like he was posing you for some erotic masterpiece.

You swallowed and looked down. You could scarcely imagine getting all of that inside yourself smoothly, let alone riding him the way Esidisi and Wamuu had taken you. Whining about that wouldn’t get either of you off though, so with another deep breath you lined up the head of his cock with your entrance and aided by the new trick you had just learned you dropped back down into his lap in one movement.

You were rewarded with the sight of your master throwing his head back, groaning and squeezing your hips hard enough you’d have bruises with his fingerprints by the end of your rendezvous. Good healing practice, he would likely tell you, though you wouldn’t mind showing them off.

“Perfect… Just perfect for me,” he growled, licking his lips while you adjusted to his size and steadied your breathing. “You are so good to me, my sunshine…” he praised, biting his lip while his hands wandered across your trembling thighs. “Oh, don’t stop now, my darling. I know you have so much more to give me,” he said, edging you on to move already. “Worship me on your knees like the first night you came to me. Ride me like your precious stallion~”

“My stallion isn’t even this big. You must be joking!” you huffed, already bracing yourself on his chest with both hands for support as your legs were shaking. Kars looked surprised for a moment, fighting a smile tugging on his lips and quickly covering his mouth to hide a genuine laugh.

“Cheeky little thing,” he chided, clearly amused and slightly smacking one of your cheeks on his lap in reprimand. Well, lightly for him. It was like a whip strike to you, making you clench down hard on his cock where it was buried deep inside you. “I suppose your inexperience is the price of your innocence. It doesn’t matter when I’ll have eternity to teach you how to serve me properly,” he said, flipping you over and pushing your knees back until they almost touched the sheets.

“A-Ah! I’m sorry! P-Please be gentle with me! I’ll learn to serve you, please!” you cried out, already worried you were in for a punishment far more brutal than a little spanking.

“I gave you power, little one, but you have shown your only rightful place is underneath me. It is too late to beg for mercy now,” he taunted, grinding his massive dick so deep you were seeing stars. “Focus on your breathing now. I won’t repair you once I leave you broken and used. I’ll mold your insides to the shape of my cock and you will remember exactly who you belong to,” he warned.

You’d try. You’d try with all your might, but with Kars’ silver tongue whispering sweet promises in your ear and the head of his cock rubbing so tantalizingly deep inside your dripping pussy, breathing was becoming less and less of a priority.

He picked up the pace gradually, with you fighting to consciously breathe in a way that could keep the god between your legs from completely ruining your tight little cunt and keep you from passing out from the pleasure that had long since overpowered your common sense.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? What a hopeless little whore did I take for a bride. Just aching to be fucked by any one of us, aren’t you?” he asked, his hungry red eyed gaze sweeping over the sight of you taking his cock deep enough he could see it in your stomach. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll fuck you till your body is in ruins and your sweet, broken heart is content,” he groaned, losing himself in your sweet cries and tight heat until he felt your hand on his cheek.

“N-No… Lord Kars~” you whined, the faintest smile painting your lips. There was only one thing you truly desired. One thing, which he could give you that would leave your heart eternally content.

“ Worship me… ”

The words had just barely left your mouth before you could feel your lover seize up, legs pressed all the way back as he bit down harshly on your shoulder and flooded your insides with his release.

Gasping a final breath, you screamed to your lover, the gods and whoever else was left to hear it. Your precious mortal body constricted around him, milking his cock as if demanding more. Maybe he had been right about what you truly craved. What your body craved, at least.

You were exhausted, floating in the fuzzy post-orgasm bliss that would usually lull you to sleep quite quickly, but Kars’ warning rang clear in your mind. You could rest once you were sure he was satisfied.

In the meantime, you were still too exhausted to move, so to be let down and pulled into a hug was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t you know I already do, my love?” he whispered. Your mind was still swimming in a tide of pleasure, making it hard to connect those words to the correct context. “You have served me well. You may rest now,” he said. That was all you needed to let the siren call of sleep pull you under, cuddled up safely in your master’s arms.

You woke up many hours later as the sun was just setting, but Kars had already carried you to the shaded side of the mountain where he was safe. You weren’t quite sure how he’d gotten you there, but you figured there were likely some tunnels in the catacombs you did not know about. You’d have plenty of days to explore at your leisure without vampires there.

Kars leapt swiftly around the steep hillside, and up the steep cliffs of the much larger mountains lining the valley.

“Where are we going?” You asked with a soft yawn, drawing Kars’ attention.

“You’ll see,” your husband told you with a small smile.

“I want to go to the ocean,” you said, only half awake, earning a chuckle.

“Close. But if you want, I can take you there. Just not tonight,” he said. You looked up the mountain you were ascending, growing slightly worried when you saw smoke rising from the top.

“Is this safe?” you asked, clinging to Kars’ shoulders. It was getting colder. These mountain peaks were tipped with snow, even in the summer months, and you were only wrapped in a sheet you recognised from the bedroom you shared.

“You’ll always be safe with me, my dear,” he assured you, slowing to a stop by the source of the smoke. Wait, not smoke, just steam. A small spring on the uninhabited mountain top had been heated to the point of steaming on the freezing summit.

Wamuu and Esidisi were already waiting for you, with Aries in tow. Wamuu had by some miracle tamed him to the point he stood resting peacefully in the shallows, letting your first lover pour water down his back to continue keeping him warm. Esidisi was half asleep, up to his chest in the clear spring water and before you could ask anything else you were unceremoniously thrown in, sheet and all.

You screamed and kicked to get back up, glaring at Kars.

“Never do that again!” you yelled, glad Aries had taken a shine to the wind god, as that obviously startled him.

“If you want to see the ocean, learn to swim,” Kars responded, casually taking off his clothes and jewels and putting up his hair before joining you.

“I can swim. I just don’t appreciate being thrown,” you argued, pouting. “And if the spring is heating up, doesn’t that mean this is a volcano?” you asked worriedly.

“It just means Esidisi is here,” Kars answered, handing you a comb and turning his head, the implication obvious. You wanted to huff and refuse, but no amount of pettiness could make you pass up a chance to play with his hair.

“I don’t like the cold,” Esidisi explained, the water near boiling where he sat a few metres away.

“A cold bath strengthens the spirit,” Wamuu interjected.

“Well you’re welcome to go roll in the snow over there,” his master responded, splashing the younger with a wave of hot water and soaking whatever clothes he was still wearing.

“Can you two stop behaving like children?” Kars asked, when Wamuu used his winds to splash him right back.

“Says the one who can’t be bothered to comb his own hair,” you teased.

“I’ll have you know, this is a privilege and not a chore. If you don’t want to, go play with your pet. Normally we’d have sent vampires to fetch clean water down the mountain, but now circumstances have forced our hands,” he explained.

“Ah, so that’s why,” you murmured, the black silk dancing unconcerned in the warm water around you.

“Don’t blame yourself, dear (Y/N). They would have become food eventually and we can look after ourselves and you,” Esidisi assured you, sitting up and stretching. You were momentarily distracted by watching the water run down his rippling muscles, following a particular drop run from his forearm, down his bicep to the swell of his pecs and a half amused scoff drew your attention back to Kars, who stood up to form a similar display.

“Unless that isn’t what’s distracting you?” he asked, smirking down at you.

“You have my full and undivided attention, my lord…” you said quickly, red faced due to more than just the water’s temperature. Although you couldn’t help but notice he had caught the attention of your other mates as well as yours with his little show.

“As it should be,” he said, letting his hair down and shaking off the excess water that caught in the ends. “The absence of our army is negligible in our day-to-day lives, but will greatly hinder our search for the stone. The last lead we have to go on was that the raw gem was brought down to Rome, where it was cut and sold,” he explained. “I’m not sure if the hamon tribe believed to be in possession of the correct stone, or if they meant to trick us, but our time was wasted chasing a smaller cut of the same gem.”

“They were wiped from existence, save for (Y/N) and her sister’s family. Seems like an awful long way to force a bluff,” Esidisi pointed out.

“What if the rest of the stone has been cut too small?” you asked, worry making your chest feel tight. You could sense your wedding ring still there, though it felt less oppressive now. Not nearly as oppressive as the deadline approaching.

“We interrogated the man who cut the stone. He said every time the light shone directly on it it nearly killed him or destroyed his tools. He cut a large flawless stone from the raw gem and two smaller ones. He did not dare cut them any finer. He sold them for a fortune to a merchant he did not know, as he wanted to be rid of the stones for good. He did not live to enjoy his fortune,” Wamuu answered, stroking Aries’ ears more to calm himself now.

“There is only one Aja that will suit our needs, but since being sold in Rome it could have been taken anywhere,” Kars said.

“The Aja draws attention. Not just for its looks. It’s ability to refract light makes it dangerous. Anyone trying to sell it would garner attention,” Esidisi said.

“If it refracts sunlight, they wouldn’t try to sell it at night. Especially if it got out what you’d done to my tribe,” you reasoned.

“Which is exactly where you come in,” Kars said, cupping your cheek. “You can embrace the light of day. You are human. You can help us search for the stone.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Yes, my masters.”

[rainbow-beanie]

Fanart for @dana-chan-the-control-brain ‘s fanfic tech support: chapter 4 weasel words

 The Computer was broken from his thoughts at the sound of high pitched shrieking. His cameras and processors devoted his attention to the distressed little irken in the experiment room. Who was being attacked by the very same weasels he was experimenting with. Apparently, Weasels did not take kindly to having sleep hypnosis parasites planted in their brains.

Zim ran and shrieked and flailed his arms as the little furry creatures crawled all over him, slathering him with bites, claw marks and laser eyes. A quick scan confirmed that these weasels did not have rabies, they were just angry. VERY angry. And aside from Zim’s panicking and mild bleeding from the bites he appeared unharmed. He was just freaking himself out, making the weasels angrier. He was going to seriously hurt himself if this kept up. Even if it was, admittedly, hilarious to watch.

The Computer wordlessly opened up the weasel containment unit without a verbal command.

“Master, contain the weasels in here.”

Zim then slammed the glass door to the containment unit shut. Panting heavily.

Zim peeled one of the weasels off his face, and threw it in the containment unit. He did the same for the one biting underneath his leggings and two others that were chomping down on his antenna and leg respectively.

“Wheeeeeeeeew… ha… that was a close onnnnAUGHHHH!!!”

Zim reached a new octave as he realized he didn’t notice the weasel clinging to his PAK, that had begun clawing the shell, causing a port to open up and began nibbling on wires to it’s heart’s content.

“AHH! NO NONONONONONONONONO!!! GET OUT OF THEREEEE!”

Zim tried to reach behind his back but instead he squeaked and convulsed as his eyes rolled back and his antenna twitched. He spun around in a circle and fell to the floor, before leaning back upright with his bodyweight only. Jerking and moving in an unnatural way. As if he didn’t have control of his own limbs. His arms and legs behaved like noodles as if the weasel was hosting the world’s worst grotesque puppet show. Zim’s tongue rolled out his mouth as his PAK began flashing red as a warning.

Now this was something the Computer WOULD intervene with. A robotic arm descended from the ceiling and snatched the weasel off Zim’s back, and threw it in the containment unit unceremoniously, crashing it into all it’s other bite-happy brethren before sealing them up again.

Zim fell to the ground, moaning and twitching.

Was he alright?

The Computer ran a scan of Zim’s current state. Specifically his PAK. He cross-compared reference to the scan he took on the first day Zim arrived to Earth. He didn’t have time to go over Zim’s PAK data in depth yet. Between GIR’s food experiments and Zim’s animal experiments, he had a feeling he'd be in pretty high demand over the weekends.

“Master,” The Computer began, speaking in an authoritative neutral voice. “Some nerve ending wiring for your arm control nerve is frayed along with your limb systems and several other nerve wirings. I'll plug in and begin an automatic PAK repair as soo-”

“NO!” Zim shrieked, far more panicked then the Computer ever heard him, and that was saying a lot judging by how jumpy he was.

“N-No.” Zim stammered, shakily getting to his feet, swaying where he stood. “There’s no need for an automatic PAK repair… I can do it myself.”

“......I… what? Are you sure? You can barely stand right now.. And your arms are very limp and...shaking....” The Computer couldn’t help but say aloud.

“Ah, Don’t worry, it’s just a little scratch and some loose wires, it’s fine!” Zim extended his PAK legs to walk to the PAK repair work station, as opposed to walking on his little organic legs that were trembling like jelly. Thankfully, that part of his PAK was undamaged as he was able to extend and use his PAKlegs no problem.

“...With all due respect, Master…” the Computer began as Zim leaned his body against the console, trying to figure out how to word what he would say next. “I don’t believe in your current condition that you would be able to repair your PAK manually.”

For a moment, Zim said nothing. He didn’t snap at him immediately like he normally did. Which worried him. He just leaned his head against the console, closing his eyes for a few moments.

“....Master?”

“EH!?” Zim’s antenna shot upwards and he looked confused. As if he wasn’t talking to him a few seconds ago.

That was very worrisome.

“Let me repair your PAK.” The Computer said in the most soft and stern voice he could muster.

Zim’s antenna twitched, as he realized what the Computer was asking.

“Eh.. Ah, no, don’t worry about it! I’m FINE!”

Before the Computer could argue his reasoning some more, Zim turned around so he could face the workbench and detached his PAK onto the work station. The PAK extended a few extra port wires and crawled onto the bench obediently, apparently used to this type of repair from its host. The lifeclock in the Computer’s systems activated, displaying the ten minute time limit in the center screen of every single camera in the home. A normal precaution so Invader Computers were currently aware when the PAK was attached to their Master and if they were at any risk of dying.

Zim arched his back and gave a long stretch that cracked his spine. He took a deep breath as he flexed his arms and claws, and began blinking each eye separately at a time and flexing his antenna individually from each other. The Computer observed him for a few moments. He consulted his database to see if such behavior was common for irkens who performed manual PAK repair. Oddly, there weren’t many instances of manual PAK repair operated by the irken host itself. PAK maintenance drones would repair other irkens typically, but not themselves. Invaders were trained in basic first aid, due to the nature of their job. They had to spend long quantities of time alone, and basic wear and tear maintenance was expected in their line of work.

A few chewed off wires however, that’s a different story.

“...Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” The Computer began hesitantly, suspecting that Zim had no clue what he was tampering with. He can never know with him.

Zim flexed his claws a few more times before he seemed satisfied, and he grabbed the wielding tool from overhead.

“Huh-hmm.” Zim said plainly. “This kinda thing happens all the time.”

“...You…. your wires get chewed out by weasels all the time?” The Computer asked.

“Yes! Well, no. Well.. I just mean… ya know… trainee combat and all that.”

Invader training combat?.... Zim had his wires yanked out of him before? The Computer suspected that was highly unlikely. Due to the nature of an irken’s PAK, and how they held most of an irken’s consciousness and served as a secondary brain to work alongside their primary one, PAKs were strictly off limits from attacking. Especially during training and simulations. In fair duels one of the main rules is to not mess with a fellow irken’s PAK. Everything else is fair game. Punch them in the eye, yank their antenna or grind the heel of their boot into the spooch. Attacking or tampering with an Irken’s PAK is strictly forbidden and would cause low marks and demerits, and in extreme cases, re-encoding.

“...How does that happen?” The Computer couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Ah, oh ya know how training is..” Zim said distractedly as he began welding and repairing the loose wires. “Stomping or yanking of the PAK to see how long I can last, throwing it back and forth amongst the Elites, hitting it a bit with the brunt of the electro spears a bit too hard…that’s just how it goes. All normal endurance training for only the most elite of the elite.”

…….He was kidding? Right?

"Like this one time during training, my PAK was yanked off and my fellow soilders wanted to see how long I could last, and that skilled Invaders are able to survive past the ten minute mark. Well, my record is about three minutes till. So we waited. They kept it away from me a little bit past my record, one minute was cutting it a little close, but we all had a good laugh about it."

He wasn’t kidding.

“They are just testing to make sure I have the right endurance! They obviously were testing my durability and enguitity! I had to learn a few things about PAK repair if I wanted to complete my Invader training! A few dents and dings like this is nothing.”

.....

The Computer immediately pulled up any information he had based on Zim’s training days as an Elite. He couldn’t find any documented evidence that his fellow elites had bullied him like this, but he did notice the peers he was typically stationed with at the time.

ELITE RED:

SKILLED TACTICIAN AND IMPRESSIVE COMBAT SKILLS

HIGHLY FAVORED BY FORMER ALL MIGHTY TALLEST MIYUKI

CURRENT STATUS: ALL MIGHTY TALLEST RED

ELITE PURPLE

RUTHLESS NO MERCY APPROACH TO COMBAT.

TOP SCORES IN STEALTH

CURRENT STATUS: ALL MIGHTY TALLEST PURPLE

That….

That can’t be right.

That would be impossible.

Logical evidence would suggest that these two were the ones that would purposely mess with Zim’s PAK to give him clear and unfair advantages. However, the Tallest are all powerful and all knowing in their judgements. They wouldn’t have become the Tallest if they were breaking the rules as elites. Even then, while Zim was the runt of his squad, he didn’t deserve such treatment. Either Zim did not know of the protocols or he thought that it was a standard part of training.

But… Zim had to be lying? Right? I mean he’s defective, who knows what crazy thinks?

That’s what the Computer wanted to think. But watching Zim calmly and accurately repair his PAK as if it was normal routine for him suggested otherwise. He’s been at it for about a minute now.

“...Master.” The Computer said lowly and softly, lowering the probability of startling him.

“Hmmm?” Zim responded, laser-focused on his task.

“How are your hands so steady…. You were flailing around with limp arms not to long ago… and your PAK is still damaged.”

Zim blinked up from his work, pausing for a moment before he gave a soft chuckle. It was unlike when Zim laughed loudly to assert his dominance. It was squeaky and soft.

“Silly Computer!” Zim chuckled and he got back to work.

“...Uhhhhh..”

Zim snickered to himself. “You’re a machine, so I don’t expect you to get it.”

What? What was so funny?

“My PAK has been damaged.” Zim then pointed towards his temple. “Not my ORGANIC brain.”

“....I …..”

“Once the PAK is detached, my biological shell draws resources from the organic brain. The nerve endings in those are FINE. It’s the PAK that’s the problem.”

The Computer considered this. While what Zim was saying was true, most irkens didn’t tend to view themselves as a disconnect to their PAK. It was a level of heightened awareness not many had achieved. If an iken’s PAK was damaged, it was common they would still experience pain once it was detached. There were many reports of a PAK being damaged, the PAK thinking that it’s host has broken a leg, and once the PAK was removed, the irken biological shell would still feel as if their leg is broken. Only PAK technicians had this level of understanding on how the PAK brain and organic brain co-exist together.

“You know, for an Irken super Computer, you’re not that smart if you forgot how PAKs work.” Zim snickered.

Oh that little…

“I have not!” The Computer huffed. “Just seeing this level of competence from you is shocking.”

“I know, I know. I am truly amazing!” Zim beamed. Apparently not absorbing the Computer’s insult. Probably for the best.

“Now silence! I need to concentrate.”

The Computer remained silent as he watched Zim work. Zim's hands worked efficiently at a pace that showed he was comfortable making these types of repairs.

Even so, an automatic repair would be faster and more efficient. The Computer took into consideration the stress patterns in his voice and heart rate when he thought he needed an automatic repair. In addition to his reluctance to being scanned or his PAK being scanned.

…...So, he knew he was defective then?

That had to be the logical conclusion. Only Defectives tended to get nervous about PAK fiddling or PAK repair. Although, observing his Master's hands, Zim had no qualms with repairing himself. Due to his intense focus and efficiency, it could almost be described as therapeutic for him.

Then was it the Computer himself he was afraid of?

There was still too much insufficient data for him to make a logical conclusion at the moment. But he will take Zim's comfort in mind when he eventually needs to consult him about PAK and biological repair in the future. Because let's face it, Zim will hurt himself again.

/////////////////////////////

this part made me very emotional, and also made me hate the tallest even more

[browniefox]

The Spectral Turnabout 1/?

I did it. I’m writing a lil fic for an ace attorney and paranatural crossover

oOo

Okay, Phoenix thought, I’m having a mental breakdown. That’s fine, this is fine.

To be fair, it’d been a stressful few hours. It wasn’t everyday you walked into the office and found your boss dead with her sister sitting next to her body, and then stayed there as the body became cold, the scent of blood so strong and present that at some point you stopped noticing it. To be so close to death, and of someone you knew...

Then there was the questioning after the police arrived, going over the same facts again and again and again. It dragged on for hours, caught in that system, cold and judging people staring at him. He’d been on the scene, it was natural he might've looked a bit suspicious. It was morning by the time he was let out, a weariness weighing him down from not having gotten any sleep that night. The original shock had worn off at some point, but there was still this numb disbelief. Mia… Mia was dead.

There were also the hallucinations, and what made him conclude he'd lost some marbles sometime over the night.

For the few days, Phoenix had sworn he’d been seeing things. It had started small, just flashes of pale-purple at the edges of his vision. They’d started to appear with increasing frequency, and no rest seemed to solve it. Phoenix had figured it was just stress from work.

Well, Mia’s death had officially pushed him over the edge.

Ever since the police had taken Phoenix in for questioning, the purple figures had resolved into full-blown monsters. They ran around, seeming to only occasionally care about things like doors and walls when it suited their need. Some just stayed up at the ceiling, looking down with mild interest, while others were more active. And absolutely nobody else seemed to notice them.

“What the hell?” Phoenix hissed under his breath as an odd gecko-looking thing skittered across the room, going right over his foot. He swore he’d felt the weight of it as it’d done so, and the creature had paused for half a second and looked back at him before continuing on its way. He shook his head. Just his imagination. After he talked to Maya, he’d go home and get some sleep, and if the problem persisted then he’d probably see a doctor about it…? No, he couldn’t do that, not when he was probably out of a job now! Okay, he’d just ignore the problem then. Maybe it’d go away eventually.

Maya entered the visiting room looking just as glum and sad as when Phoenix had last seen her, but that wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Oh, it’s you. The lawyer.” She said, clearly surprised at seeing him there. Phoenix nodded. She sat down in the chair on the other side of the glass. He’d followed Mia to meetings with defendants before, he was vaguely aware of how this went.

“G-good morning!” He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake, and also trying in vain to make the hallucinations go away. There was a particularly strong one hanging around Maya, a dark-purple mist seemingly coming off of her and falling to the floor like dry ice. All of his hallucinations seemed to carry with them some form of that mist, although the color changed from figure to figure, and there was something about Maya’s that was just… sad.

Then, suddenly, she perked up a bit, looking him over. Phoenix flinched back a bit at the sudden interest in her eyes.

“Mia didn’t tell me you were a spectral.” Maya said.

“I-, uh, I’m an a-attorney?” Phoenix corrected.

“I did know that, but you’re a spectral.” Maya insisted, brow furrowing a bit, and gestured to Phoenix. He looked around himself, trying to pinpoint what made her think the word ‘spectral’, whatever the hell that was. He was in his suit still, he’d stopped by the bathroom to make sure his hair was still in decent enough condition. His hallucination did seem to extend to himself, indigo-vapor that wasn’t really there floating off of him in spikey and nervous waves. He looked back at Maya, still very much confused.

“I- you’re, uh, I’m an attorney, and I think you might need one…?” Phoenix fumbled awkwardly. She was still looking at him oddly and it made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. The mist coming off of her started to morph and shift, and right before Phoenix’s eyes it formed the words ‘Can you read this?’

This was starting to get a bit too weird for him, but Phoenix was tired, and probably still in the denial part of the mourning process which wasn’t doing him much help, and before he knew what he was doing he’d opened his mouth and said,

“Y-yeah, how’d you do that?”

“How long have you been seeing things?!” Maya demanded, sitting forward now and close to the glass, and Phoenix flinched back.

“For a couple days, but it’s gotten really clear since sometime last night.” He admitted.  Maya gasped.

“Oh my gosh, you don’t know.” She said.

“Know what?” Phoenix was sitting forward now, because he wasn’t going crazy, except he still sort of felt like he was, and his boss was dead, and he was talking to his boss’ sister who was being accused of murdering her, and he was hallucinating but hallucinations couldn’t really be shared and Maya clearly understood what he was going through, and it had been a very long night.

“You’re a spectral.” She repeated.

And then she explained.

oOo

The details were a bit hard to take in, but Phoenix managed to grasp the gist of it - Maya had been a little quick during her explanation, but that wasn’t too surprising considering the whole ‘murder trial’ they were both preparing for.

So, he was now something called a ‘spectral’, which meant he could see spirits. Yes, ghosts did exist. No, spirits weren’t really ghosts per se. Maya and Mia were from a long line of spectrals who doubled as spirit channelers, capable of pulling ghosts from wherever ghosts went when they died and allowing them to speak through them. It was probable that he’d become a spectral due to being around Mia, but there were several factors that went into it. Colors of spectral energy - the mist he’d been seeing - didn’t mean anything he needed to worry about, and she’d promised to show him some tricks to it when the trial was over.

Actually, Maya had offered to show him some tricks before the trial, but Phoenix had insisted that they wait until she was declared ‘not guilty.’ She’d looked away from him at that moment, but Phoenix had insisted again he’d get her free.

He couldn’t let Mia down like that.

Seeing Miles in court was a shock, but in another way, Phoenix had to admit he'd badly wanted to. If only it wasn't such a high-stakes case like this. The bigger surprise was the spirit that stuck around Miles.

It looked a bit like a borzoi, but much longer to accommodate an extra pair of legs and an insanely long and fluffy tail. The back two pairs of legs were more like a bird’s instead of a dog’s, and its ears were replaced with wings. It had wrapped itself around Miles, head near one of his shoulders and then spiralling around him. A muted purple spectral energy poured from the spirit in calm and steady waves, and it kept its eyes on him.

Miles didn’t react at all to the spirit, although it seemed to be fairly in sync with him, responding to Miles’ moods and such. Phoenix wasn’t sure how normal that was. There were spirits everywhere. Not enough that any place felt crowded, but more like mice or spiders, always there somewhere. So far, though, none of them seemed overly concerned about people other than watching the trial like the rest of the spectators.

Well, again, none other than the dog-like spirit who seemed intent on hanging around Miles.

During the recess, Phoenix asked Maya about it.

“Well, sometimes a spirit will hang around somebody they find interesting, especially if that person is a spectral.” Maya told him.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Phoenix sighed, shaking his head, “Edgeworth didn’t seem like he even realized it was there. And he doesn’t have spectral energy.” The spirit had floated off of Miles when he’d left for the recess, landing on the floor and following at his feet. On his shoulders, it’d given Miles the illusion of maybe being a spectral, but separated it became clear the essence was coming only from the spirit. “Could it be the ghost of one of someone he knew?”

“No, ghosts always look like they did in life. Occasionally, they’ll have minor changes in their appearances depending on how they perceive themselves, especially if it’s been a while since they died, but I’ve never heard of one changing shape that much.” Maya shot down.

“Well, no reason to dwell on it,” Phoenix shook his head, “We need to stay focused on proving your innocence.”

oOo

Being a spectral was, surprisingly, not all that different from not being a spectral. Having magic ghost energy didn’t mean he didn’t have to pay rent, and he still needed to eat, and he couldn’t fly or anything.

Maya kept her word, and they spent most of the days in the office teaching him the ins and outs of the world he was now a part of. She was a pro, easily able to create ‘compressed spectral energy burst shots’ - or ‘spec-shots’ - while Phoenix fumbled his way through the motions. It was a bit odd at first, being taught by somebody younger than him, but Maya was a surprisingly decent teacher. She was clearly experienced in the craft, having been raised a spectral.

He found himself thinking a lot about how Mia had been one too. Some late nights, when they were eating in the office, waiting for a client, Phoenix sore from the training, they’d talk about her. Apparently, Mia had noticed that something was up with Phoenix and had suspected he might be becoming a spectral. She’d planned to talk to him about it the night of her death.

Well, the best laid plans and all that.

“So, can things really be haunted?” Phoenix asked her one day while trying to focus his energy into a specific shape. He was trying to make it look like a dog, and it more closely resembled how he used to draw them back in kindergarten.

“Oh yeah, that happens all the time. Here, I actually have a tool on me.” Maya pulled a jade green gem from somewhere in the folds of her robes. She handed it over to Phoenix, and he turned it over in his hands. It was smooth to the touch, and shaped like a teardrop or a comma with a perfect hole in it, big enough for Phoenix to fit his pinky through. “This is my magatama, and you could say that it’s ‘haunted’, although the technical word is that it’s now a tool. A spirit was injured long ago, and now they live here! They’ve been passed from Fey to Fey for years.”

“Huh.” Phoenix said. It didn’t look particularly special. He handed it back to Maya.

“You probably won’t have to worry about that, though. Tools are usually used by people who are fighting spirits and stuff!” Maya smiled.

“Yeah, I think I’ll stick to being a lawyer.” Phoenix gave a small laugh.

oOo

So, maybe Phoenix had come to the conclusion about Miles not being a spectral a bit too quickly.

[honesthammie]

4th prompt part 2

The silence was appreciated as your mind wrapped up today's event. You had met your soulmate in a goddess of a woman. Everything you had discovered so far was perfect. You watched as she pulled a metal disk and metal stick from her pockets. The metal stick made a strange buzzing sound and glowed a faint orange at the tip as she hovered over the disk.

"What are you doing?" You asked after watching her in curiosity for a few moments. You would've let her continue as her face was quite the sight. Her eyes were sparkling with intent and her nose had the most adorable scrunch.

She stopped for a moment as you spoke as if thinking on what to say before continuing. "I'm scanning for any spider eggs in the building so we can take them with the other spiders to a planet of their own. A planet without civilisation but full to the brim with creatures they can eat. I think, the fam got them all. No, fam still doesn't seem right. The team does sound better!"

"A planet? What, are you some kind of alien?"

"Yes. Would that be a problem?" She asked. From the way her eyes sparkled, I believed her. Great, no wonder why she seemed so ethereal! So when I say, she's out of this world, it'd be a fact and not a flirtatious comment! For fuck sake, that's one of my best lines as well! Maybe I could use it when the time is right?

"Nope. After the discoveries of my life recently, that's actually the most believable thing. Please don't ask yet. However, those spider babies trust me. You aren't going to get them to listen without me. I spent at least a full 5 hours with them, they trust me more than you. Come on little Miss Sunshine, hop to it, the spiders won't wait forever." I spoke with confidence. I knew she knew, she needed me. That's why she followed me. "I'm (y/n) by the way"

"Great name! Love that name, was always one of my favourites. I've always fancied myself as a (y/n) but the faces never seem to fit it. I'm normally a John but I can't be now I'm a woman. Why don't you give me an alias for when I'm undercover?"

"Hmmm. I quite liked the name Alice and you certainly suit that name. Is there a name people call you when you aren't undercover. What do family call you?"

"Alice. I love that! I'm keeping Smith. Alice Smith. Perfect! Knew you'd be the one to help me. People tend to call me the Doctor. So do I for some reason. Wish I knew why."

This cute blonde alien was more mysterious the more we talked. She told me of how her ship goes in time as well as in space. She told me of the time of when she met Robin Hood with an older face and a companion named Clara. All this talk and I wasn't bothered once by it. I could listen and watch her all day as she talks about adventures she's been on. She puts all the theatrics on and waves her arms about with so much passion and her eyes show her emotions so clearly. But I also saw age. If she's older than she looks, just how old is she? Not that it bothers me, it's just, if she's like hundreds of years old, she's probably had other lovers and I don't know if plain old me can compete with that.

Sooner than we realised, we came towards a blue Police box. She clicked her fingers and waltzed right in. This must be her TARDIS. I walked inside with awe. The ship was beautiful inside. Like a gem hidden as an ore. The golden and blue lights perfectly reflected her personality.

"It's fucking massive Sunshine! Ya didn't warn me about walking into a football field! No wonder why thousands of spiders seemed no problem! Fucking hell!" I stated as my eyes scanned the room in front of me. Then I felt a little tug on my right trouser leg. I looked down and saw a little spider wanting my attention. I bent down and picked him up. He seemed happy to be held like that so I kept him in that position as I wondered towards the Doctor.

I had so many questions I wanted to know and I'm sure she has too. But now was not the time for that. We needed to get these spiders to their new home. I continued to watch the Doctor as she danced around something she called a console. She was pressing buttons and pulling levers and many more things until the ship made a strange wheezing noise and I was thrown off my feet. Thankfully I was caught by someone. I looked up and saw an oldish man.

"Hello Love! I can tell this your first time here. We all fell down when she first did that with us. You learn to find something to grab onto. I'm Graham by the way." Graham spoke gently but loudly over the noise of the ship. I couldn't help but giggle, my grandad used to call me Love too.

Then as quick as the ship started, it came to a gentle stop. I looked around and notice the same 2 people from earlier. The girl was smiling and laughing to something the boy mentioned. They must be old friends. I then noticed the Doctor walk towards the doors and open them just enough for her to check outside.

"Right (n/n). I'm calling you that as we are friends now. Go on, it's your first new planet and you care about these spiders more than we do so I think it's best if you check everything it perfect for them!" The Doctor spoke with excitement. She even clapped her hands for a moment, obviously not being able to control the surge of energy running through her.

I held the spider in my arms and the doors opened in front of me. I closed my eyes for a moment as the light blinded me temporarily. I could feel the warmth of a sun and the cool breeze the gently whipped past your face giving you the perfect cooling needed. The planet smelled sweet yet sour like Toxic waste sweets. I could hear many creatures making strange noises, some were doing a high pitched growl and some others were doing deep scream. Then there were nicer sounds like birds tweeting but in a lower key and something sounded like a piano, specifically an old ragtime piano.

I slowly opened my eyes and noticed the silver sky and its 4 suns in each direction. I noticed that the high pitched growl was from a small flying frog like creature and the deep scream was from a big rabbit- horse like creature that was just chewing the purple leaves off the metal looking trees. The bird like sound belonged to a small Robin like creature, but instead of a red chest it was a beautiful blue hue and it had silver eyes that sparkled just right. The Ragtime piano sound belonged to a dog-raccoon like creature that scampered away with its mouth full of the fallen berries that the rabbit-horse dropped from the leaves. The grass beneath was as black as ink and the pond to the right of me was a strange red colour.

"Well what do ya think? I personally think it's perfect but you seem to know these arachnids better than me so, I could be wrong, although, I'm not often" The Doctor spoke with eagerness. I noticed her looking at me as I took in the world around me. Why does this feel all too familiar to me? Why do I like the escapism of Earth? Why is this so, freeing?

I took a deep breath in. "Its perfect Doc. The spiders will love it here! They'll adapt pretty quickly I believe. The creatures are big enough to satisfy them. Although the sounds are a little off putting." I put the spider in my arms in the oddly cotton soft grass and watched as the thousands of others followed in its footsteps. Some carried the baby spiders and others carried the eggs. They had already found a cave to lay the eggs and started weaving some webs within 10 minutes.

Once I was happy with everything, I said my goodbyes and entered the strange ship once more. I could feel fresh tears sting my eyes like tiny hot needles. I get so attached so quickly and I noticed the string warm up and I checked on my soulmate, she was looking at me with an all too familiar look, the look of complete adoration. So the string tells me when her love for me evolves until we kiss? I mean, that's when it disappears for everyone else.

"This was great Sunshine! I had a ride of a lifetime, I really did. So I guess, you can drop me off home, I'm probably not wanted and I don't wanna ruin your team dynamic here."

"Why on Earth would you think that? I was actually wondering if you'd like to join us. Those spiders trusted you and having someone like you would really make the adventures more thrilling. Besides, I really like you and there's something special about you and I can't place my finger on it. I don't like not knowing things. If I drop these off home for a bit, would you mind if I ran some tests on you?"

"Really? Sure. I don't mind. I actually wanna know aswell. You see, I know what's special but I don't want to tell you in front of the others, its a bit embarrassing." I asked whilst blushing. She nodded her head and set the TARDIS coordinates to Sheffield. The Doctor promised she'd be back in a week and set the TARDIS to float in our solar system whilst she got to work on me.

We walked into what I can assume is some sort of med Bay. The walk had conversations about the last planet and how we thought the spiders would adjust. Eventually she sat me down on a white bed.

"So, you said you knew why you were special. I don't like cliffhangers so I'll give you a custard cream if you tell me." She said as she got a paper document and waited for me to speak.

"I don't know how or why but have you ever heard of the red string of fate story?" I asked, wondering how to word this without sounding weird. She nodded her head in understanding. "Well, when I turned 16, I could see everyone's red strings. The world was covered in red. I was confused at first until I read that story."

"Hmm. That is interesting because all stories have some truth to them. Some are exaggerated and some are exactly as said. Well that story is a good example of that. Thousands of years ago, there were 2 species of human, homo sapiens and homo spectrians. Spectrians were low on numbers in population as they'd spend almost all their life playing match maker. You'd know Spectrians as Cupids. However when battles and wars happened, Cupids were out of a job as everyone had to focus on the country and not themselves. This is where arranged marriages started happening and Cupids were becoming depressed. Eventually the Cupids decided to blend in with the humans and became virtually extinct. You might be the only Cupid left in the universe, other than Valentine himself." She explained it so well.

"Can Cupids see their own string?" I asked. She paused for a moment. Her eyes flickered between heartbroken and hopeful. I felt the string flicker between cold and toasty warm just like her eyes.

"No. Cupids weren't supposed to have soulmates. But I guess you are technically half human so maybe that makes sense. Do you know who your soulmate is?"

"She's amazing. She's like a Goddess. When I first saw her I immediately thought, She's too fucking perfect for someone like me. She incredibly smart too but, can be oblivious. I mean, I only met her a few hours ago and I'm fucking smitten with her. She reminds me of sunshines and rainbows. I'm just waiting for her to make a move." I told her. She looked at me for a moment, processing this new information. She smirked for a moment once she figured it out.

"Well my soulmate had me wrapped around her finger the second she jumped in front of a spider to save her life. A bold move like that normally makes me mad but, she did it so well. I haven't known her long but I can see me being by her side forever, travelling the stars. She reminds me of those stars actually. The way she sparkles in the light. I love you (y/n) with both of my hearts." She spoke softly as we slowly leaned in. When she finished, she planted her soft lips on mine and the red string was gone. Not that I noticed until an hour later when we picked the team up and held hands to announce our relationship.

Maybe dating a sunshine is exactly who I needed.

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

On the battlefield (Rey x Reader)

Request: Ok, so I see a lot of stories about the reader proposing to Rey, but I'm curious to see a story with Rey proposing to the reader? This can be however you want it, but here's thought what if there fight a battle against the first order, and while in the middle of the fight prey just blurts it out. Wouldn't that be cute? Anyways I guess this is a request, Rey x fem reader, please! Love your work, keep being awesome! By anon a long long time ago

Words: 1,224

A/N: sorry this took me so long to write. I've been meaning to but my personal life just keeps me from writing. I'm also not 100% satisfied with the shot but I hope you like it.

This plan was going down fast. Several times you tried to convince Poe not to engage in such risky plan, but the pilot was sure it was going to work. A handful of people against a whole battalion of stormtroopers didn't sound like a good strategy. You were surprised by the plan but even more surprised by the fact that Rey agreed with it. You had agreed reluctantly, only to make sure nothing would happen to Rey.

Unfortunately, as more and more stormtroopers surrounded your team it was clear that the 'perfect' plan was definitely never going to work, just like you anticipated.

"We're outnumbered!" Poe yelled while blasting at the near stormtroopers getting dangerously close to him and Finn. "This was a terrible idea!"

"I told you so!" You yelled back hiding behind the big container that served you as a barricade.

"It doesn't matter now." Finn added. "We gotta get out of here!"

You nodded before turning to find the now empty place where Rey was hiding just a few moments away.

"Rey" you murmured, already looking out of your barricade, searching for her.

The familiar hum of her lightsaber let you know exactly where she was, in the middle of the battlefield swinging her weapon to the sides to reflect the blasters back to the troopers. She was concentrated and for a moment it almost seemed like there was an opportunity for the plan to work as the number of soldiers of the First Order decreased as Rey kept her attack.

"I knew this was going to work." Poe added stepping out of his hiding spot with a smile over his face. "It's a small outpost, I bet that's all the security they have. We have the intell, let's get home already" he said.

You stepped out of your hiding spot too but staying close to the big container just in case. Rey was still in the middle of the hangar, listening to something you couldn't.

"What is it, love?" You asked, making her turn away from the big closed doors of this First Order outpost hidden in the mountains.

"It's oddly quiet." She told you, "usually there's some sort of alarm but not today." She looked around. "This isn't over."

Suddenly the heavy blast-doors of the outpost opened, revealing a new battalion of stormtroopers and even worse, a line of AT-ST walkers ready to end with your small team.

"Rey. Behind you!." You told her before grabbing the comlink hanging from your hip. "Chewie, we need a pickup. Now!" You said through the comlink, your blaster secured in your other hand. Rey's blade cut the air as she turned it on, ready to fight.

A rain of blasters fell over you after the commander of the battalion yelled the order, you thanked those bucked heads were terrible at shooting, otherwise it would have been Rey's end.

And so the battle started again, the sound of the blasters from both the First Order and your own replaced the silence fastly, killing the small spark of hope that you had.

"There's no way out." Rey murmured to herself as she was fighting non-stop the attacks, she was concentrated in her task, defending herself from the blaster and yet, the only thing she could think about was you.

She looked over her shoulder to find your gaze. You were too busy blasting at the enemy to notice her but it was all she needed to remember why she loved you so much.

Memories of the day you met came to her mind. It was an irony of life that she met you in a battle and now you both were to die in one too, the only thing she regretted was never asking you that special question.

This was the last battle, or so she thought, and maybe her last chance to ask you to be way closer to her, to be part of her life forever, to become the family she always wished to find all those years alone in Jakku.

Rey let go a deep sigh before extending her head towards the big AT-ST that was closer to the group and with a swift move of her hand the machine fell to the ground causing an explosion that ceased the blasters for a moment.

Rey yelled your name, urging you to get to her side, you came out of your hiding spot and ran to her side.

"What's the plan, babe" you asked, blasting as many troopers as you could while avoiding the blasters from the big walker.

"Survive." She said swinging her lightsaber to protect you.

"I like that plan." You told her with half a smile, deep down you knew there was no way that was going to happen. Not even with her connection with the Force, there were just too many soldiers.

"Y/N," she said, or rather yelled "Would you marry me?." Rey blurted it out looking at you sincerely.

"What?" you asked perplexed, "I don't think now's the best time." You told her, that was not a question to ask in the middle of the battlefield

"It may be the only time." She insisted, bringing down another AT-ST with a move of her hand. Then she turned to completely face you, grabbing your hand "You're the best thing that has happened to me, Y/N. I love you, I really do."

For an instant the time seemed to stop, the sound of the war seemed to disappear as you looked into her hazel eyes. A big smile formed over your lips, you wanted to scream 'yes' and tell her just how much you love her, how happy your life was with her around, but then a blaster from the walkers came dangerously close to you, shaking the ground beneath you.

“If we make it out alive," you told her, giving a slight squeeze to her hand “of course!”

Rey smiled brightly at you.

"Drop your weapons." Said a stranger's voice muffled by his helmet. The stormtrooper pointed his own blaster at you as more troopers in white armor mimicked his actions.

By the corner of your eyes you caught Finn and Poe in a similar situation as you, surrounded by the First Order. This was it.

"I love you, Rey," You murmured after hearing the commander ordering his troopers to execute you both. "with all my heart."

But before the bucket heads could even pull the trigger a known ship appeared over the outpost, already firing its weapons and eliminating most of the enemies.

As the starship started to land you saw Chewie weaving in the controls of the Falcon.

"What took you so long, Chewie?" Was the first thing Poe asked once you were in the cockpit and the next thing you knew you were flying through the blue and white tunnel of hyperspace.

You found yourself holding Rey into your embrace, exhausted after the battle but happier than ever.

"I can't wait to marry you, Rey" You murmured caressing her hair softly.

"You won't have to wait much, don't worry." she told you with a smile before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. "I'm really looking forward to calling you my wife."

"My wife." you savored the words on your mouth, what a sweet and warm words. "I like the sound of that."

Tagging: @1-800-depressedlesbian , @xgaygremlinx , @natasha-danvers

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know)

[kimjongdaely]

Escape [Chapter 3]

Superhero!AU/Villain!AU

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, torture

Summary: All your life you were caged and tortured, a never-ending cycle of pain. You no longer remember a life beyond that. All you wanted to do was escape this cruel fate. But finally finding your escape and being saved by a masked criminal was just the beginning of your nightmares. Can you ever really be free?

Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5

I jolt awake, roused by nightmares. I take a moment to breathe, to compose myself. I take in my surroundings, hyper aware of everything, making sure I’m safe. 

I relax slightly when I remember where I am. I breathe, reminding myself of what happened so far, recounting my steps to reassure myself that I’m not in the lab anymore, Dr. Walters can’t touch me here.

I shiver, noting how cold my body has gotten. It’s still dark out, but the sky had begun to turn red-violet as the sun begins to rise. 

I rub my arms, hoping to get some warmth back. Perhaps I should move around for a bit and stretch out my limbs. 

I pace around the empty building, my steps kicking up dust which makes me cough and sneeze. Okay, maybe that’s a bad idea. I stop my movements, hand over my mouth and nose as I try not to breathe in the dust. The sky is brightening a little more. Since daytime is approaching, it’ll probably be okay to go outside. People will be out and about in no time, and I’ll be hidden among the crowds. 

I look down at myself and wrinkle my nose, wondering if there’s any way I can get clothes that aren’t in terrible condition.

I miss Kai’s apartment already, but I shake my head. I’ve gone my separate way, and I must rely on myself. I still need to figure out who it was that paid him to save me in the first place. 

I sigh, heading towards the door. I hope no one pays me too much attention. The last thing I need is to catch unwanted attention, like painting a big red target sign on my back. Dr. Walters is looking for me, I know it. I have to be careful with where I go, who I talk to. I must find a way to disguise myself, and this jumpsuit must be the first to go. He probably has trackers on this thing, even in its tattered state.

I step out just as the first rays of morning appear. The warmth is comfortable and very welcome on my freezing skin. It’ll get warmer from here, which I’m looking forward to. 

I quicken my pace past the streets, trying not to look at the people sitting and sleeping in the shadows. Some reek of alcohol with sunken eyes, shaggy hair and unshaved faces. Some have grey skin, looking much too thin to be able to function properly. Bottles, cigarette butts and needles are littered everywhere. A woman with two young children huddle together to my right.

My heart aches for them, feeling their pain and suffering. I wish I could do something to help, but I an barely look after myself as is. 

A man who looks intoxicated by drugs or alcohol eyes me lecherously, a grin appearing on his cracked lips. I shiver at the unpleasant attention, breaking into a run in hopes me won’t follow. If he does, he’ll be disappointed to find his strength is no match for mine. Still, I don’t want him to start a scene.

As I leave the slums, I notice how the streets are cleaner now. There are a few people present, shop owners chatting as they begin to open their stores, joggers running past, someone on a flower-filled bicycle.

The quiet murmurs of conversation comforts me, the chirping of birds giving me a sense of unprecedented freedom. I take a deep breath of the fresh air, the temperature becoming warmer and warmer. I no longer shiver, my arms falling freely to my sides, and I forget about my strange appearance.

For once, I feel human. Normal. Alive.

I notice glances towards me, conversations change from idle chatter to curious speculation. Who is this young woman, wearing tattered clothes? Is she from the slums? Could she perhaps be a new criminal?

I keep my head down and quicken my pace. Soon there will be even more people, and I hope they will be too busy to pay me any mind. I wander down the streets, scanning my surroundings and noting anything worthwhile. I pass by clothing stores, looking in through the windows and frowning at the prices. 

I sigh. Surely there isn’t anything at the grand price of free for a penniless girl like me.

I continue walking, ideas churning in my mind. Is there any way I can acquire a job? But I’m not sure what the standard requirements are, and it would be troublesome if they ask me for any form of identification. Based on government records, I don’t even exist. So honest, lawful jobs are probably out of the question. A hopeful part of me wonders if anyone is nice enough to provide shelter for an odd-looking stranger. 

Most likely not. Oh well, onto the next idea.

If honest jobs are not going to accept me, perhaps my only option is something illegal. Or sketchy, at best. I wonder where I can acquire a job like that. The red-light district is always an option. I shiver at the thought, wondering if it’s really worth the risk. They might have jobs that don’t require selling my body, like cleaning or cooking. Frowning, I find myself silly.

I could probably find a labor-intensive job, like at a construction site. Yes, that’s what I’ll focus on. 

I pass by an internet café, still closed since it’s too early for them to open. I peek into the dark store, eyeing the computers they have lined up on long coffee tables. If I could access the internet, I would probably find more jobs for hire, but I don’t have the money. Everything boils down to money, a never-ending loop. Where else would jobs be advertised? Magazines? Newspapers?

It’s worth a try, I suppose. 

I walk down the street for a while more, looking through windows as they slowly open, and manage to find a convenience store that’s open 24/7. The sliding doors ding when I walk in. 

The cashier, a young girl chewing gum and blonde hair tied into a ponytail, looks at me oddly, but doesn’t say anything. I know how awful I look, and she probably thinks I’m some sort of drug addict. I ignore her and sidle into the magazine and newspaper section. I scan through the covers, searching for something that might include jobs for hire. I pick up a few and start flipping through them. 

From the corner of my eye, I see the cashier begin to work nearby me, putting things on shelves and checking items. Does she think I’m going to steal something? I roll my eyes and turn my attention back towards the pages. My concentration wanes as I flip through the seventh magazine, not finding anything suitable for me. 

I begin to grab an eighth magazine when the cashier clears her throat behind me, plastering on a polite smile. “Hello, may I help you with something?”

I swallow a sigh and turn to her, trying not to look as dead as I feel. “Hi, sorry, I’m just looking through some magazines.”

She nods slowly. “Are you looking for anything specific?”

I sound more snappy than I meant to. “Job advertisements.”

Something changes in her expression and it becomes more sympathetic. I don’t like it. I smile again as best as I can without wanting to kill myself or her, “Sorry, I’ll be quick.”

“Sure.” She shrugs, then slinks away, but I can still feel her eyes on me—you know, just in case I do steal something. I flip through the magazine mindlessly, not even really paying attention to what’s on the page anymore. Some fashion trends, fancy car models, idol gossips…something catches my eye.

I flip back, searching for that page. It’s a job advertisement from Happy Greenbottles, a company that strives to create environment-friendly packaging for all kinds of products; from food products to beauty products. They’re looking for factory workers, and promise free housing and meals. Seems too good to be true, but something about this advertisement screams at me, something odd, something inexplicable. 

I doubt they would hire someone like me, but I take my chances. I don’t know why I’m so adamant about this job, but I swirl around and find the cashier who takes a step back in surprise. I hold the page up to her, determined. “Can I borrow a phone please? I really, really need this job.”

“Um.” She looks unsure, eyes darting everywhere as she slowly pushes the magazine away from her face. “Sure, I guess.”

I run to the shop’s phone sitting in a corner on the counter. She watches me as I dial the number on the advertisement, my heart racing when I hear it ring. Three rings is all it took for someone to pick up, a pleasant female voice greeting me, “You have reached Happy Greenbottles. How may I help you?”

“Hello.” I answer, voice squeaking. “I saw your advertisement for hiring?”

“Ah, yes.” She chirps. “We’re in an urgent need of someone right now. Are you thinking of applying? Is it okay if we do a phone interview right now?”

“Sure, that’s no problem.” Oh no, I have no idea how interviews work. What do I say?

“Alright then. First things first, what’s your name?”

I begin to sweat already. “I’m…” I pause, catching myself before I could make a mistake. “…Eve. My name is Eve.”

“Nice to meet you, Eve. I’m Susan. Do you have any previous work experience in a factory or other labor-intensive jobs?”

“Ah, no.” I swallow. I wrack my brain, wondering what kind of answer would be acceptable. What would a normal person say? “I just graduated from college so I don’t have any job experience yet. I’m very strong and have high stamina so I have no problems with labor-intensive work.”

There’s silence on the other end and my stomach drops. Did I screw up? Was that not the right thing to say?

“I see. That’s okay, it’s very difficult for graduated students to find jobs immediately. Trust me, I’ve been there. Where did you graduate from?”

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. I don’t know any colleges or any sort of educational institute for that matter. I come up blank, unable to answer or even make something up. 

“Hello? Eve, you still there?”

I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is obviously not going to work. “To be honest I didn’t graduate from college.”

Silence. Yeah, totally screwed.

“So,” Susan starts, her voice sounding strangely interested. “Knowing that you don’t have the necessary qualifications for this job, why did you still call? Surely you were expecting to be rejected.”

“I need this job.” I say, trying not to sound too desperate. “I don’t have anywhere to stay and have no money. I just…I just need to do something.”

“And you expect us to give you the job? Even though we’re a startup company, we have high standards and expectations for all our employees. Why should we hire you, who has nothing to offer us and nothing to back you up? Why are you interested in our company in the first place?”

I frown, having no answers to any of her questions. I shrug, already giving up. “I don’t know, honestly. All I can offer you is hard-work and my best efforts. Your advertisement caught my eye and I reacted. That’s all.”

Here it comes. I sigh, closing my eyes as I wait for the impending rejection. Susan is quiet for a moment.

“Alright, you’re hired.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

“I said you’re hired, Eve.” She says merrily. “Congratulations. You can come in for work right away. Do you have a way for jotting down notes?”

“I, uh…” My eyes dart around the counter, wondering if I could use any of this stuff without paying. I’m already using their phone for way too long. The cashier hands me an old receipt and a pen wordlessly, and I thank her vigorously with hand gestures for her help. “Yes, I do.”

“I’m going to read you our address, so make sure you write it down.” I fumble to write down what Susan says, wondering if I’m spelling it correctly. She repeats the address just in case I missed anything, and then bids me goodbye.

I am ecstatic when I hang up, my body feeling light as if I just ascended onto a new level.

“Congrats.” The cashier says with a smile. “Hope it goes well.”

“Me too.” I beam back, stupidly excited. “Thank you so much. If I get paid, I’ll treat you.”

She laughs, waving her hand. “Nah, that’s alright. Jobs are hard to get, I’ve been there. You should go treat yourself, yeah?”

I look down at my tattered jumpsuit and nod. “Yeah, okay.” I thank her again as I leave, a skip in my step. 

I search for a street sign, wondering if there are any pointers on how to get to the address. I ask a few people for directions along the way (quite a few actively avoided me and gave me weird looks, but some were very kind). Some even generously searched it up on their phones and showed me a map. 

It seems to be quite far, about an hour or two by car, but I can catch up by running in no time. I try my best to stay off the streets and under the shades of buildings or trees as I break into a run, going much too fast for a normal human. I go through any alleyway I can find to hide from the general public, focusing on the direction I need to go so I won’t get lost. 

I leave the populated parts of the city, reaching the outskirts where it’s much more secluded. There are lots of big factories here, chimneys blowing dark smoke into the sky. Trucks are littered about, busily transporting cargo to and fro. 

I quicken my speed when I see the giant Happy Greenbottles company name on the side of a grey building. Their logo is of a bottle with two leaves poking out from the top and a cute smile plastered on the glass. Cute.

I catch my breath as I slow to a walk, shaking out my nerves as I approach the entrance. I try not to be too self-conscious with my awful appearance. They might turn me away immediately after seeing me.

The glass sliding doors open for me, and I walk in sheepishly. Some workers dressed in protective uniform, bouffant caps and face masks turn to look at me before moving on with their work. I glance around, wondering who I should talk to or where I should go. The clacking of high heels makes me look towards the left, where a woman in a black suit approaches me. Her wavy brown hair reaches her bosom, figure tall and slim. She smiles, “Are you Eve?”

“Ah, yes.” I blink. “Are you Susan?”

“That’s right.” She gestures for me to follow her. She leads me to a man who looks like he’s in his thirties, also dressed in a black suit, his posture more casual and relaxed than Susan, but confidence radiates off him. There are several workers surrounding him, seemingly deep in conversation. Susan taps him on the shoulder, then clears her throat when he turns. His hair is dark with strands of grey hair, his features sharp with striking green eyes. “Sir, this is our new hire, Eve. Eve, this is the founder of Happy Greenbottles, Mr. Gregory Miller.”

He beams at me, shaking my hand heartily and clapping me on the shoulder. “Ah, welcome, Eve! So glad you could make it. You really helped me there—we needed someone urgently to take care of the new batch.”

“Glad I could help, sir.” I manage a small smile, surprised by his friendly attitude. 

“Susan, please, show her the basics and have her start immediately. We need to have these out tonight.”

“Yes sir.” Susan turns towards me, her eyes scrutinizing. “Let’s get you a uniform. Follow me.” She heads towards a door to the far back, taking me to what seems like a change room. She grabs some cardboard boxes from tops of lockers, searching through the contents. “Hm…you look like a medium.” She pulls out what seems like clothes folded neatly inside a sealed plastic bag. She hands it to me. “Go ahead and change. If it doesn’t fit, just grab a new size. I’ll be waiting outside.”

It’s a simple t-shirt and black pants, a protective covering worn over them like an apron. It’s easy to move in for any sort of laboring work I might need to do. I step out of the changing room, Susan nodding at me and hands me a bouffant cap and a face mask. I hastily put them on, tucking my hair into the cap. Once I’m done, she’s pulling me along again.

“Alright, your work is in here.” She opens another door, leading me down a long corridor. The wall to my left is made of glass so I can see into the room filled with intimidating machines, conveyer belts, and countless workers busy at their stations. Susan holds the door at the other end for me, letting me pass through first. The room is cool, AC blasting through the air vents. The sounds of the machines whirring is loud, and to me, almost deafening. I wince, itching to cover my ears but that would look like an overreaction for a normal person. I struggle to look neutral as I follow Susan to my station.

“Your job is simple.” She points at a hatch on the back of a machine. “When the machine beeps, lift the hatch and use this—” she holds up an iron rod-like thing, “—and stir the liquid. These are what we use to make the packagings. There’s only a 30 second window, so make sure you don’t slack off and miss the beeps.” She hands me the rod, raising a brow at me, a hand on her hip. “Any questions?”

I shake my head ‘no.’ 

She nods, looking pleased. “Good luck on your first day.” Then she leaves, and I watch her walk back down the hallway through the glass. 

Special thanks to the wonderful Ayla @ninibears-erigom for being a sponsor! This chapter was made possible by you! 💛

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Escape Mini Masterlist

A/N: Anyone else have a bad feeling? 👀

Tags: @ninibears-erigom @boldcrayoncatblog @cardtak @beetlejopp @taeilpathic @delightpcy @shookyungsoo​

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