#literally raised to be a weapon that will wipe out half of the world and then admonished for destroying everything he touches

[mollypaup]

Gillion trapped in a psychic bubble coming to terms with his trauma while his friends have a No Good Very Bad Day in Dr. Human Rights Violation's Laboratory of Fucked Up Shit

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.6

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7]

Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”

“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.

Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”

“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.

“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”

Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”

“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”

Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”

Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.

“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”

“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”

“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.

They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.

“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.

“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.

“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”

“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”

Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.

“Hey, you live near here, right?”

Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.

“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”

Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.

“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”

Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!

Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”

“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”

Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”

“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”

Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”

Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”

Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”

What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”

“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”

“Uh-huh.”

“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”

Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?

“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”

“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”

Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”

——

Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.

“We’ve done stupider things.”

“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”

“Agreed.”

Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.

Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.

Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.

One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.

Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.

“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.

“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”

“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.

Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”

“No problem.”

Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.

Timsy

[5 nin]

Nin

Nin

Nin

Min

Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Alright.”

Danny texted back an okay.

Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.

“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.

“Damn, bro. You good?”

“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!

“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”

A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.

“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”

“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.

“Sorry…” Tim apologized.

“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”

“Do you really pay taxes?”

Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”

“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.

“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”

Tim stared.

——

“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.

Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.

——

“How did you die?”

Phantom snarled and disappeared.

Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.

“Where’d he go?”

“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.

“What? What did I do?”

“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”

“I didn’t know that!”

“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”

——

Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.

“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.

“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.

Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi love!!!! your work is so amazing i love how you write

i was wondering if you could do a corionlanus x fem reader where she’s his tribute and is about to be killed in the game but it’s kind of like that scene in you where she says “no don’t kill me im pregnant” and it’s his reaction and everyone watching trying to get them to end the games? i’d love to see what you could do w that feel free to change anything u want!

Songbird's Plan | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!tribute!reader

Summary: The presence of a song bird can change everything for one who appreciates them or "if it weren't for the baby" TBOSAS edition.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, Coriolanus Snow being in love, nickname (songbird), mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: It's finally here. Hope you enjoy.

The moment Coriolanus Snow met you he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect you from harm no matter what.

Of course he knew that that was going to be a difficult challenge because you were his tribute.

You were supposed to be in the games, you were supposed to literally fight for your life. There was always the chance that you would die, but Coriolanus didn't allow himself to think too long of this outcome. He knew that it would simply drive him to compete and utter madness.

So once the rebels bombed the arena, once he was out of the hospital and once he made sure that his tribute was okay, he sneaked into the arena the night before the games.

He spend more than half of the night searching for the places for his little songbird to hide. He did everything he could, he truly did, and he truly did though that he would be prepared for everything.

Yet as he found himself leaning towards the screen in front of him that displayed the scene of you being attacked by Coral he felt himself automatically freeze. He felt helpless.

He felt like he let you down and that ate him inside out.

Coriolanus felt like his heart was going to simply burst out of his chest as he watched, his throat tightening.

He watched Coral getting closer to you. He felt useless.

But there was something that both of you underestimated. There was a certain connection between you two. Both Coriolanus and you were smart, willing to do anything to survive.

Once Coriolanus remembered that, he forced himself to move. He could probably wipe out Coral with those badly made drones, but he needed some distraction because if Coral sees them, it's over. He could hit you.

"Please, don't!" Your voice broke out of the screen, Coriolanus felt himself flinch at the desperation behind it.

He watched your helpless form glazing away from Coral like you were on thin ice.

Coriolanus felt like he would scream put as Coral raised her weapon against you. But that's when you yelled out something that made his heart completely stop.

"No!" Your forceful voice shouted. "Don't kill me, I'm pregnant!"

Coral stopped for a moment. Coriolanus stopped for a moment. In fact, it seemed like the entire world stopped for a moment.

Coriolanus couldn't move, his mouth slightly agape as he watched you breathe heavily as you waited for Coral to move.

"Stop the games!" Tigris shouted in despair.

Coriolanus felt himself turn around quickly as he watched the mob of students standing up, waving his hands in air as they shouted to stop the games.

Coriolanus quickly turned to the screen and watched Coral still trying to gain her composure. He moved quickly, his body quicker than his mind.

If he doesn't do anything now, it would be over for you.

So as he send at least ten drones into the arena, successfully killing Coral, and as he watched your face twist in relief, and as he heard the cheers behind him he realized that maybe the hope wasn't lost after all.

His little songbird was truly a genius.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[egg-emperor]

It's unfortunate how people have forgotten how cool Eggman is lately. Like he isn't some innocent old man, or a soft wholesome dad, or goofy harmless clown, he hasn't been at any point in the games. He's genuinely super cool and badass but it's being downplayed in favor of presenting him as some silly harmless docile domestic old man

I genuinely see him reduced to things like "silly angry dad" in those posts about summarizing Sonic characters for example- and despite it being a joke (one that really misunderstands his character), it does seem it's all the majority of fandom sees him as now. It's sad when you want to appreciate the cool stuff but nobody around you seems to like it or care

Now he's mostly treated like he's just a guy who doesn't really want to be evil and is actually innocent or excusable, or wants to be a villain but he's hardly one and is just very silly and not a threat at all (that's Boom Egg not game Egg), or is just A Dad to all the characters and an uncharacteristically perfect one at that. But man I just like him as he is in game

He's a villainous egotistical scientific genius, a dangerous destructive diabolical world conquering threat! He has dark intentions and builds epic machines, has thrilling intense violent fights with enemies, is selfish, threatening and murderous, commits world shattering atrocities, enjoys being terrible and causing trouble!

One of the ways he's most entertaining is through all the crazy diabolical shit he does! He's responsible for tons of the coolest moments in the series and many of the stories wouldn't even happen without him and his schemes! A lot of his charm and charisma is in the way he thrives as a villain with his showmanship, dramatics, and passion

His determination to keep trying to reach his goals and not let anyone stop him is a strength and admirable, it's not something he needs to give up and become good and sit around doing nothing like in Frontiers forever. His agency, security, and genuine confidence in himself and is villain is great and he doesn't need to lose it

Both his creativity and how fucked up he is shows in his awesome destructive robots, weapons, and dangerous theme parks and that makes it so fun and fascinating. His qualities and what makes him entertaining and admirable are all in his villainy, showing not in silly cute harmless ways but thrilling entertaining badass ways which is great

The way he's selfish, manipulative, dangerous, and lethal makes him an exciting threat and results in shocking and impactful moments in the series when other characters are affected by his harmful actions. It also makes him and his mind interesting to dig into and explore to understand his mindset and what makes him tick too

He wants to conquer the world, make everything about him with the entire world changed and built in his superior image with his logo on everything, and rule a glorious empire full of crazy creative deadly theme parks and robots, where everybody is forced to worship and serve. And he'll raise hell and cause mass amounts of destruction to get it

He builds dangerous destructive violent robots and traps poor critters inside and theme parks designed to kill you that throws you off the coasters, tries to wipe out cities, blows up government facilities, blows up half the moon and threatens to destroy the world next, holds people hostage sometimes with a gun to head, literally broke the world apart, and awakens terrifying eldritch horror monsters to use in his plans and will fight to the death to accomplish his goals and much much more

THAT'S COOL AS FUCK

It makes me more sad than angry that this isn't recognized, appreciated, and explored by more fans and people don't get that. I just want to find more people who enjoy this and are fascinated by this and want to talk about and explore this as much as I do but most people hardly ever really give it much thought. I only know a very small amount of people who actually talk about what Eggman does in the games at all, even though everything he does is badass and exciting and deserves so much more attention

Eggman is FUCKING AWESOME and I'm always going to emphasize and appreciate that here 💜🥚

[beesmygod]

i like thinking way too much about fromsoft games. there’s something about the light touch the writers use to carve out their worlds that just absolutely tickles my brain. writing way too much about the most trivial details using college essay formats is the easiest exercise to make sure my brain can still make basic connections and convey those connections to other people. but as a lore prescriptivist (snob), i try to only stick to what’s in front of me without attempting to drag in outside resources or succumb to the apparent impulse to engage in wild speculation that many fans find themselves mired in. additionally, i try to make things as clear as possible for the fandom rubbernecks who like to read lore dumps about things that are totally outside their wheelhouse (i do this).

here’s something really annoying to keep in mind with these games: they write the scripts in english and translate them to japanese. but the dev team obviously works in japanese and have a tendency to reveal connections that are either relevant to unlocking questions not addressed in the game (such as the parasitic wall hugger having the file name “Prince Izalith”). there are also inconsistencies between the english and japanese translations, which raises more questions about what the authorial intent REALLY is. so the best we can do is filter the noise, ignore the innate desire to put words or ideas in any developer’s mouth, and stick to things you can copy-paste to support your argument.

that said i have one theory i refuse to give up entirely on the basis that it is really funny to think about: Gwyn’s firstborn is the father of Crossbreed Priscilla.

look out bitch! look out bitch!

i will go over all the reasons that support my argument and then i will discuss the objective problems with my theory, which is absolutely not one i think anyone holds but me. generally, the community is in agreement that her father is traitor turned mad scientist Seath The Scaleless. seath is an albino dragon who, due to his jealously of the scales that granted eternal life to the other dragons, betrayed his brethren and helped the gods wipe the once everlasting dragons off the planet. his bottom half looks like microwaved tinfoil because he’s been fucking around with crystals. also he was just born fucked up.

seath was rewarded with dukedom and a slice of Gwyn’s (king of the gods. who are a race separate from humans, rather than literal gods) soul.

first let’s talk about what supports my theory, so you can get a feel for the timeline of events and the social mores within the world of dark souls (?? i typed this)

PRO:

Crossbreed Priscilla lives in the Painted World of Ariamis: this is explicitly a location for things and people that the gods want to either forget about or sentence to exile. there are very few residents in the painting; the entire population is priscilla, the corpse of xanthous king jeremiah, a rotting dragon descendant (a wyvern), phalanx from demon souls who got lost somehow, a handful of hollows and skeleton wheels, and velka’s crow worshippers.

Xanthous Crown - A mysterious item once worn by the Xanthous King Jeremiah, the legendary exile

Peculiar Doll - There once was an abomination who had no place in this world. She clutched this doll tightly, and eventually was drawn into a cold and lonely painted world.

Dark Ember - The church long hid the forbidden black ember, and no living blacksmith knows of it. Occult weapons were used to hunt the Gods, and are effective against their followers and kin

velka, an unseen goddess with a single worshipper, is an entire other kettle of fish, but she’s not as complicated as people make her out to be. she was banished or killed by the gods for participating in the plot to overthrow them (this is another subject that causes people to spin out). i dont have time to get into this, it just matters that she’s persona non-grata.

priscilla herself is described as a “crossbreed bastard child” in her soul description. this confirms that she is the result of an unauthorized fuck and suck. as the “antithesis to all life”, she wields a weapon called the lifehunt scythe that mows down gods and drains any mortal that tries to use it.

Lifehunt Scythe - Even the Gods feared Priscilla's lifehunt ability, and in the hands of a mortal, its power will turn upon its wielder.

why the fuck would gwyn keep around someone who could kill him and everything he’s been working for? the man was so freaked out over the idea of the age of gods ending and losing power that he threw himself on a pyre and invented a new way to suffer to prolong the inevitable. why is there a black knight, gwyn’s most trusted troops, protecting the doll and one of three berenike troops in the entire game protecting priscilla herself? the answer is the same reason why he kept gwyndolin in spite of her snake leg deformity and simply hid her away: she’s family.

CONCLUSION: PRISCILLA IS GWYN’S GRANDDAUGHTER

Gwyn’s firstborn was erased from history for an unknown, unforgivable trespass: the amount of Mad gwyn is at his firstborn son cannot be understated; statues across lordran depicting him have been shattered, he was stripped of his godhood, and he was exiled from anor londo.

Ring of the Sun’s Firstborn - Lord Gwyn's firstborn was a god of war, but his foolishness led to a loss of the annals, and rescinding of his deific status. Today, even his name is not known.

Sunlight Blade - The power of sunlight, manifested as lightning, is very effective against dragons. When the eldest son was stripped of his deific status, he left this on his father's coffin, perhaps as a final farewell.

“foolishness” is such a weird ass turn of phrase for something that got you disowned so hard your dad forgot who you were. its so like...mild. just an observation. an example of a thing gwyn specifically might find unforgivable is fucking a dragon, as they are his mortal enemies and he just spent all that time killing them.

you DO eventually meet this son, The Nameless King, in ds3.

CONCLUSION: THE NAMELESS KING’S TRESPASS WAS SHAMEFUL ENOUGH TO HIDE WHAT HE DID AND WHO HE WAS, BUT NOT KILL HIM

The Nameless King has been deified by dragons and their worshippers: this one is so weird. by ds3 you are told outright that the nameless king “sacrificed everything to ally himself” with dragons and those who want to become them. he’s not even the first dark souls character to do it all for the nookie.

archdragon peak, a location where dragon worshippers go to begin their physical transformation, is riddled with statues of him looking badass. this is also where you fight him and his drake (it has 4 wings, but no everlasting scales) friend, the ambiguously named “king of the storm”. its not clear if the “king of the storm” is a title they share together or what the nameless king calls himself when he’s with his dragon lover or if thats the name of the dragon. regardless, killing the dragon begins the phase 2 solo fight against the nameless king. making this more confusing is that in japanese, both phases are named “the nameless king” and calls the king of the storm a wyvern instead of a stormdrake.

Lightning Storm - Once a slayer of dragons, the former king and wargod tamed a Stormdrake, on which he led a lifetime of battle. This miracle is likely a tale of their bond.

wow. love truly conquers all. gay rights!

CONCLUSION: THE NAMELESS KING IS COOL

Seath has never had sex: look at him. no way.

MY THEORY: gwyn’s firstborn, overtaken with sexual desire, fucked a dragon. the result of their copulation was priscilla, an abomination whose innate abilities made her extremely dangerous. gwyn threw his firstborn’s ass out from a combination of shame and anger, but could not bring himself to kill either. ariamis was commissioned to create a world for her, which became an all purpose dump for shit gwyn didnt want to think about any more.

AGAINST:

Priscilla is white: it’s pretty hard to ignore the fact that seath and priscilla share the same very unique skin tone...color palate? you know what i mean. the most common theory is that priscilla is the result of seath’s experiments or his daughter by way of gwynevere. what we do know about seath’s experiments is that the failed results transformed women into snake-ish creatures called pisacas. as stated many times in the series: a snake is a failed dragon (this is true in real life too). maybe one of them was successful.

BUT: there’s some problems with this, actually. for one thing priscilla isn’t albino; her eyes are white and she’s fluffy, like the everlasting dragons we do see. gwynevere married some guy named flann and booked it out of anor londo years ago.

Ring of the Sun Princess - The Princess of Sunlight Gwynevere left Anor Londo along many other deities, and later became wife to Flame God Flann.

so the gwynevere theory is out. it’s more likely that she’s a successful experiment who got too scary so she had to go in the paint. i dont really get why he was trying to turn women into dragons, if thats what he was up to. maybe he was trying to have sex. he was tired of using his j/o crystals or whatever.

Yorshka and The Painter: okay, we can assume that the painter of the next painted world, a dragon scaled young girl, is the daughter of priscilla and her weird husband mentioned in the ds3 dlc. i dont get company captain yorshka at all. i have nothing. she’s obviously a dragon crossbreed but has 2 insane things that make her completely impossible to make sense of.

first, she has fucking neck tentacles? no one else has this shit. what is that.

second, she calls herself the sister of gwyndolin. what! huh?! excuse me?

it’s insane enough that one of the dlcs revealed that gwyn had ANOTHER surprise kid who didnt get to share in the narcissistic family naming convention and was forgotten by history (filianore). but now there’s a DRAGON one?! i don’t know man. she’s inscrutable and i don’t understand her relation to the original crossbreed or why she didnt get painting’d. her existence is pretty hard to patch over with my theory. i dont think the nameless king was pumping them out and then shipping them over to gwyn for him to deal with more than once. mostly because gwyn has been dead forever by the time ds3 happens. maybe gwyndolin just handles these problems better now that shes de-facto ruler of anor londo.

well, i guess that’s all i actually have. my point with all this (besides entertaining the three people who enjoy reading DS lore) is that i can recognize the obvious flaws in my crackpot theory, yet it offers me the most satisfying answer because the idea of getting disowned for being a furry (scalie i guess) is really really funny. and as we all know, the comedy is when you need a 2 million word explainer about having sex with dragons. well. bye.

[daidonzo]

Chapter 1 - Prologue [Chishiya x FemOC!King of Spades]

TW: Swearing, violence

But you need your rotten heart Your dazzling pain like diamond rings You need to go to war to find material to sing I am no mother, I am no bride, I am King

I need my golden crown of sorrow My bloody sword to swing My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology I am no mother, I am no bride, I am King

Savine Laine wiped the blood on her face with the back of her hands, despectively, little droplets of the crimson red liquid falling to the ground. Tap, tap, tap.

'Game cleared.'

Oh, fucking finally. I thought the bastard wouldn't die. She licked her lips, and looked at what was in front of her. A monster of a man, the top half of his body covered in cheap, tacky tattoos. He had cuts literally everywhere, was missing an eye, a couple of fingers, a few teeth here and there. Me, on the contrary… Savine examined her face with the tip of her fingers. Auch. Bruises were starting to form, but it wasn't that bad.

You're too huge to be actually fast, big boy. He hadn't been able to catch her, not even once, no matter how hard he had tried. She had been able to dodge him with quick, last-second movements he hadn't seen coming. She smiled condescendingly, looking down. Now he was nothing but a corpse.

She had also… Maybe cheated a little bit.

Now, now, they said you couldn't use weapons. How is a wine opener a weapon? It is something every ridiculous, bored-out-of-her-mind housewife should have with her at all times. The object was sticking out of the man's throat. Whatever, if they haven't lasered me yet, it's because they approved. At the very least, they found it funny. She giggled to herself, pushing back her blonde locks.

And now what?

Fireworks.

Charming.

'Now all surviving players will be given a choice. Please select whether you will accept permanent residence in this land or if you will not accept it.'

She raised both eyebrows, the ghost of the smile still on her lips. She hadn't considered this possibility. She rubbed her chin, thoughtfully.

Do I want to go back to the real world? Can I even go back to the real world after the person I have become? She had always been ruthless, both in life and business. She had never been considered a good person. She always had everything she desired. And what I didn't have, I still took.

Men loved her. Loved to fuck her, loved to have her on their arm and show her around. Long legs, perfect figure maintained by training in the gym twice a day five days a week, blonde wavy hair that reached the middle of her back, brown, haunting eyes, full lips and a round, small nose. She was a dream. Men loved her, and women envied her, being nice to her face but talking shit behind her back. As if I cared.

The only thing I care about, is me. Savine was the perfect description of self-obsession. As far as she recalled, she hadn't cared about anybody's feelings for a long time, now. She worked hard on herself, and only herself. And it pays off. She went off to university when she was fourteen years old and had her degree by the time she was seventeen. She was a portent, working for one of the biggest companies in the world. Not because I really care, they just pay well.

Regarding everyone else… The people in Savine's life were pawns. Or better yet, chess figures, not all of them of equal unimportance, that she could arrange and play with as she desired. That she could use to score points. There was nobody permanent in her life, and anybody who dared enter it, she made sure they understood one thing - You are disposable. You all are.

I was already like this in the real world.

It has only gotten worse.

Savine's stay at the Borderlands had left a trail of corpses behind her. People she had manipulated, coerced and used at her will. Little, useless marionettes she held the strings to. Since she had arrived, she, in herself, had become natural disaster, leaving only destruction behind her. Her being the sole survivor.

I'd say I wasn't proud of it, but I'd be lying. I just don't care.

Why am I like this?

She pressed her lips together, ready to give her answer.

'I accept it.'

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

'You, my dear, are the perfect Queen of Spades.'

Savine sprang to her feet, throwing the chair she had been sitting in to the floor without ceremony. She hit the table with her hand, furious, pointing a finger at the woman that had spoken.

'Who the fuck do you think you are!? I'm not the fucking Queen of anything!' She hissed. She got closer to her. Was Mira her name? 'I will not be given a second place. I have never been second at anything. I could beat that man you just appointed King of Spades with my eyes closed.'

The woman studied her for a few minutes.

'Prove it.' She said simply.

Savine just walked towards the bald, ugly, scarred man that had just taken the title she so deeply desired. He was already leaving the room. He had a gun strapped to his chest and back. Before he could react, she took the latter, and pointed it to the back of his face.

This man, however, was a trained soldier. He turned around, quick, and grabbed her by the arm.

'What do you think you are doing?' He was stronger than her. And also, much quicker than she had thought. But ah, he likes to play fair. I don't.

She spit at his eyes, butted him in the face, and stabbed him in the stomach with her free hand, now holding a pocket knife. She didn't get the knife out of him, but slashed his skin in a wide, sweeping movement.

The man tried to hit her, howling in pain, but she was faster, and kneed him on the crotch.

Then, once he was on his knees, she pulled the trigger, blood splashing her face and clothes. Fuck, again.

'I really hope whatever fantastic idea you had with him didn't involve any kind of physical combat.'

'It didn't. He was a sniper.' Mira answered, uninterested.

Emphasis on was.

Savine turned towards her, showing her teeth in a smile that didn't reach the eyes.

'So, about me becoming the King of Spades…'

She stood up, towering over the woman. She refused to sit down, to bow down.

She was above everything, above everyone else.

If other people were nothing but chess pieces in her board, she was the greatest of them all.

She was the King.

[illyaana]

Credits to @breakingpengui1 to the Tendou fanart! Do check them out, I stalked them for almost two hours- ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Fantasy Collab by @bluebellhairpin

God I'm sorry it took so long TwT I wanted to make this really good so TwT (don't think I did it) Do check out the other works involved!! I am also thinking of making this a three-part series 'cause I have some ideas on this and I took way to long on this, so let me know if you want me to do it!!

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Tags: Fantasy AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff, Angst, Royal! Y/N x Werewolf! Tendou

Word Count: 2611

There was a time when the world of the supernatural was one of peace and harmony.

Magia, the realm of magic and the supernatural being, was one filled with mysteries and beauty.

Plants would dance to the rhythm made by the woodland creatures. Fairies and elves would sing songs in praise of the wondrous views and people who nurtured the lands and made it the beauty it was today.

Mermaids and the life under the wide oceans and seas shared the riches of the water with those on land to make both worlds something to gaze upon.

Yet, it all changed when humans found something within them.

Greed and Pride - the recipe to the fall of Magia.

Now, the land of the supernatural isn’t like the ones stated in fairy tales and stories by the Grimm Brothers of Hans Christen Andersen.

It is one where sins are not shunned but encouraged.

Kings and queens interfere with the peace once built by the people to become one of villainy and devilish intentions - pillaging and conquering lands to become stronger and “better”.

The ones labelled “magical” or “not human” were either killed or hidden far away, never to be seen once again.

You were born into this - this world filled with anguish and pain.

You were born to be on the top of the food chain - to rule a twisted and dark country: Thelphs.

“Y/N, don’t writhe in pain. You are next-in-line for the throne - a simple wound like this should not make you fall.”

“Y/N, a leader never hides away from death - they face it and make it their weapon.”

“Hold your sword higher! You need the correct angle to slice through someone cleanly!”

“Do not taint the name of Thelphs, young one - death is not the thing you should be worried of but me.”

“If you don’t win, you are no longer my kin.”

Your father’s words rang in your head as you reached the land of Aldis - the land that never fell to the wants of humanity and shunned it.

Aldis protected the supernatural world. They were the ones who held onto the desire to make Magia what it was many, many years ago.

It was known for the beauty it held - the flowers were said to sing songs every day and every night and the mountains shook the ground once a month to say thank you to their valiant effort in protecting what the world of Magia should be.

And yet here you are; leading a line of men wielding swords and cannons aplenty to kill the very thing the world should be.

“Onward,” you shouted as you and your man marched down the stone roads of Aldis, “Fight, my people - fight for Thelphs, fight for your King!”

You pulled the sword sheathed in your belt and pointed towards the land before you. Soon, an uproar formed from the men behind you as you all marched towards the lines of houses.

You begged your humanity to hide as you wielded the weapon in your hand and slashed through hundreds of innocent people.

You begged your ears to close just for a few hours so that the screams of children could not enter as you pillaged their homes, reaping all their goods.

You felt the ground shake below you, trying its best to stop you from killing any more living things, yet you couldn’t.

A haze formed in front of your eyes, hiding all of your caring sides. You could only feel bloodlust - the need to slaughter and to feel the blood of others on you.

It was no use. Your feet, despite being on a moving floor, were still holding on to the ground, The grip you hand on your sword didn’t loosen and tightened.

If you were meant to be a machine designed to kill, you needed to carry out your job properly to ensure you aren’t thrown away.

The fairies soon came to attack you and your men, but you couldn’t kill it.

It was the first time you saw one that had magical abilities. The beauty it held entranced you.

Their wings were translucent. The light that hit it would change colour thanks to the dust that left its wings, forming somewhat of a halo around them. Their hair reached the very bottom of their legs. It swished back and forth as they flew towards you.

A pang was felt in your heart when you remembered your father’s words.

He said the fairies were ones who never cared about humans and instead mooch humans to live.

They were pests that needed to be killed, according to him.

But they are fighting alongside humans right now to protect their homes.

It was clear your father’s words were far from the truth, yet you needed to follow his wants, his needs.

You begged your limbs to move on their own so that you didn’t feel the piles of flesh go through your blade.

But you couldn’t.

You had to stay conscious through all the pain and misery you were giving to those who didn’t even deserve it.

The mixture of both human and fairy blood soaked your inner shirt, forever staining it.

The once grey tiles that covered the floor of Aldis now are forever painted red, and it was thanks to your orders.

You walked through the mountains of bodies, the blood streaming from them staining your shoes.

This was your fault.

This was all your fault.

You looked up to the sky, praying for the rain to fall and wash away your sins, but you could only see the clear, blue sky staring back at you. The clouds moved slowly through the pale blue background midst hiding the Sun’s blinding light away from you.

Semi, your commander soon stood beside you.

“My liege-”

“I killed them - I killed angel-like fairies. I killed humans, I made the ground shake - literally - and I killed the first-ever fairy I have seen. How did my father do this and still walk around Thelphs with no regrets?”

“Y/N...” Semi said, trying to console you.

But you could only laugh.

This.

This is what it means to be human- to kill those who don’t deserve to be killed.

“I can’t handle this anymore, Semi. I want to end this - all of this - so badly, yet I can’t even fight my own father.”

You turned your face to look at your childhood friend.

He too felt the same way you did - his eyes said everything.

Behind the coffee-coloured eyes hid guilt, sorrow and pain.

His face filled with the dust and smoke from the bombs that your men slung to this land. Yet, some streaks were starting from his eyes to the ends of his chin that were clean. Blood dripped from the top of his forehead down to his lips, leaving half of his face coloured in crimson.

Your thoughts rang clearly after looking at the man before you.

It was no longer about wanting to end it, you had to.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, “I will end this, Semi - this unneeded suffering and killings - I’ll end it all.”

He gave a teary smile to you. “Please, Y/N. I don’t think I can do this until I die.”

You pulled a handkerchief you kept in your pocket and proceeded to wipe the blood off his face.

“I can’t, too. This guilt,” you shook slightly, tears threatening to fall, “This guilt is too much to bear.”

He raised his hand and wiped off the tears.

“My liege, you need to be strong. We’re going to face the people we’ve committed countless sins against. Impersonate the devil - be the evil person you aren’t to protect the name of Thelphs.”

He took the blood-soaked handkerchief from your hand and threw it to the floor, “After all, what but devils would do what we did?”

Your heart broke at the words muttered by the man before you.

He was the furthest thing from a devil.

He was the man who comforted you when you were crying.

He was the man who took your pain and gave you nothing but light and joy.

Yet he stood in front of you - covered in blood both his and others with a strong resolve.

You stared at him, anger flaring in your orbs.

“You are the furthest thing from a devil, Semi Eita. But, we are controlled by one. Innocent ones like you should have never fallen into his tricks.”

He was taken aback by what you said. Tears soon fell from his eyes, sobs that he hid from you all these years came flowing like an endless howl.

He placed his head against the corner of your neck. Your shirt slowly began taking in his tears as they trickled down your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his figure. It was your time to comfort him.

Once he stopped crying, he wiped his tears and gripped your shoulders. “We need to go to the riverbank now.”

You nodded and let Semi lead you to the body of water.

You saw how the people tried to protect themselves from your men. They formed a circle with the younger ones in the middle. The ones on the circumference of the circle gripped on their small blades as they threatened your armoured soldiers.

They cared for each other.

The strong wanted to protect the weak; they were willing to sacrifice their lives so that the legacy of Aldis lived on through the young.

“Bring out the carriages,” you told your men. They immediately nodded and proceeded to follow the orders issued.

You turned to the people you’ve captured. A smile managed to reach your lips as they looked at your figure with fear.

“I do not wish any harm on you. We’re just going to make all of you line up and bring you to Thelphs - that is it,” you finished.

Most of them nodded in fear, yet there was one who refused to listen.

His hands had burned aplenty, instantly telling you that he was an ironsmith. He wasn’t rich - the clothes he wore were tattered, many of the holes were formed through his hours in iron crafting, presumably. Yet, you didn’t doubt his skill in fighting. The way he held the sword spoke more than words. The way his fingers comfortably wrapped around the leather handle made you feel some sort of pride within.

He was a person of valour and determination.

In almost seconds, he lunged in your direction.

You didn’t want to take out your sword. It felt like the man needed to hurt you in some way to make himself feel relaxed.

You gripped on the handle of your sword but didn’t have the heart to pull it out of your sheath.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the small tip of the blade to pierce through your skin. You wanted to feel your skin tear from the man’s undying resolve.

But it never came.

Instead, you heard the clashing of metal against metal.

Semi had rushed to protect you using his shield.

He stared at you, anger visible in his eyes.

“You made me a promise, Y/N. Don’t you dare take the easy way out.”

You could only smile and nod at the ash grey-haired male in front of you.

You teared your gaze from Semi to the man before you.

The disappointment and vengeance in him began to grow. The flame he once held within grew into a blazing fire.

“Why? Why attack us?” he began.

“We did nothing to you. We protected ourselves and helped others who needed us. We never bothered Thelphs - not even once, so why?”

You couldn’t reply - your morals would’ve gotten the best of you.

“Chain them all to each other - take all their weapons or anything sharp. We’re going back to Thelphs as winners, we don’t need the scars to prove it.”

You heard the roars of the men who stood before you. In their eyes, they believed all they’ve done is for the betterment of the world you all lived in.

But you knew what hid behind the tapestry that was woven by your father - destruction.

You bit your lip, not wanting to ruin the cheerful moment your men were having - all you could do was stare at Semi and let your eyes speak of all the pain you were feeling.

From afar, you heard a howl that woke up your numb senses.

Werewolves.

Joy graced the victims of your purge.

Their saviours came, ready to vanquish you and your men.

“They said the future leader of Thelphs was one ruthless and evil miscreant, yet they seem awfully sad for someone who led their troops to glory,” a werewolf said as he emerged from the bush beside you, “They do have a heart, after all.”

You stopped the minute you saw the male that now stood before you.

His red hair framed his sharp-jawed face. His obsidian eyes stared you down, a passion forming within the two of you. His olive skin gleamed under the soft light of the Sun. As he moved, you saw the scars painted on his skin - slashes made by swords and vicious beasts shifted in variations of his peach skin.

The ends of his lips raised as his eyes raised up and down, taking you in slowly.

“Mine.”

He rushed to you, his hand finding its place around your throat. He gripped softly, but strong enough to keep your soldiers on alert.

“Stand back!” you said, urging them to move back.

“Oh? - So my mate actually does care for me, don’t they?” He said, his mouth reaching the base of your neck, “How sweet of you, my love.”

Mate?

“State your business here, werewolf.”

“Well, in the beginning, it was to help the people you’ve captured,” his hand travelled to your waist, pulling you in, “But I think my prey has changed.”

You tried to pry yourself off of him, but you knew, deep inside, you wanted to pull him closer. You wanted to throw the troubles you had, all the roles you were born to play, to cast away the men who viciously fought under your order - all of that, just for a male you have just gazed upon.

The pull, the connection - it was instant. It was present, unrivalled.

Its wants and needs rang so clearly in your head.

But you had a promise to Semi - to the country you loved.

“Let go of me, wolf.”

“You don’t mean that love,” he said as he placed his head in the crook of your neck, “You want me just as much as I want you.”

He placed his hand on your cheek and you instinctively melted into the soft touch of his.

“Look at that,” he whispered, “You have already felt it, too - you know you can’t look back.”

“I can’t just give it up,” you tear.

“Then change it. I’ll stand behind you - change your homeland to what it was; a beacon of hope and freedom,” he smiled as your eyes softened, “This connection has to be proof that you were meant to be the change Thelphs needs, Y/N.”

You stare at his black eyes - more specifically the brown flecks that danced within them. They sang of nothing but determination and want - he wanted you, but he knew you had a want to change your homeland. He knew it all - just by a few minutes of just glancing at you.

He kissed your cheek, warmth spreading by that small action.

Your thoughts ran clear, the blinds holding back your judgement drawn.

“No.”

[yeongwvnhi]

》Troublemaker《

Superpowers AU, College AU, Poly AU

Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added): @twancingyunhoe @biaswreckingfics @donghanies @moonshineboyz @soleilsuhh @trashlord-007

Genre: crack, fluff, angst, suspension, suggestive

Rating: 16+

General Warnings: rituals, lots of fighting, language, injuries, weapons, detailed descriptions of fights and injuries, some mature themes, lots of kissing and teasing

Chapter Specific Warnings: teacher and headmaster being overly rude, cussing

Pairing: The Boyz x fem reader

Synopsis: in a world where superpowers are nothing special and everyone is gifted with some kind of special ability, you and your friends quickly grow tired of it and all the rules. So when one of your friends brings up a certain ritual, with which you can travel into another universe, it sounds like heaven, but you quickly realize it's harder to adapt than you'd like.

Word count: 2.7k

》Next《   》Masterlist《

It's fairly early when you leave your home for college, around 7am something. The air around you is still fairly crisp and cool, but you're not bothered. Others would be shaking if they went outside in just skinny jeans and a simple sweater when it's 0°C outside. 

But you? You're not bothered in the slightest as you calmly walk down the street and towards the giant building. 

It's metallic cover reflects the sunlight, slightly blinding you in the process. It makes you squint and avert your eyes. 

"Y/N!" 

Your head turns in the direction of the call and you see your best friend jogging towards you with a bright grin. "Oh, hey." 

"Good morning!" He beams, way too enthusiastic for your liking at this hour. 

A demonstrative yawn escapes you as you lazily wave at him. "Morn'..." You mumble and wipe the tears out of your eyes which gathered due to your yawn. 

"Aren't you gonna give your bestie a hug?" He pouts and his dimples make an appearance. "I'm disappointed." 

A chuckle escapes you before you turn towards him completely and give him his desired display of affection. 

A happy sigh escapes him as he tightly slings his arms around you. "I'm never letting you go, it's too cold!" He whines when you move to break the hug. 

"Wear warmer clothes then, you buffoon." You mumble, struggling to push him away and ultimately just giving up. 

"Nahh, why would I do that when I have my personal heater right under my nose?" He teases. 

"Shut up and let me go, we have classes soon." You whine and push at his chest again. 

He relents with a high pitched laugh as he watches you stumble back, his arms letting go easier than expected and making you lose your balance for a few seconds. 

"You fucker" You hiss while taking big, fast steps towards your destination. 

"My baby! Don't be mad!" Your friend whines while jogging to match your pace. 

"It's not even 8 yet and the two of you are already having a quarrel." A new voice joins the two of you. 

Startled by the sudden intervention, you whip your head to pinpoint the source and find another guy of your friend group. 

"Sangyeon? Where did you come from?" You ask, eyes moving up to meet his.

"You must have forgotten that I always meet you at this section in the road, tsk." The older one answers and shakes his head. 

"Sorryyyy" You say with a chuckle, "but Changmin here decided to be an ass first thing in the morning! It's his fault" 

"HUH??" The culprit screeches in surprise, "Excuse me??" 

"Be quiet you two, I don't need a headache right before classes." 

"Sorryy" Changmin and you chime in unison, "dad." the former adds and snickers, earning himself a glare from Sangyeon. 

The three of you continue on the rest of the way in silence and you couldn't be more grateful. Your mind is not yet in the right place for any intellectual conversation. 

The enormous college building towers in front of you all as you reach the campus. 

"Ohh look, the others are already here!" Changmin happily points out, proceeding to skip towards said friend group. 

Sangyeon and you exchange an amused glance before also walking towards them. 

"Morning everyone." You wave at the guys and they all greet you back. 

"Y/N my love!" Your other best friend exclaims and jumps to hug you, "I'm so glad you're finally here! Please warm me up, I'm freezing!" 

The other guys laugh at their youngest friend's antics, you included. Nonetheless you proceed to hug him around his middle and make use of your powers. Your skin immediately heats up to a nice and cozy temperature and the guy hums in relief. 

"You're such a baby." You chuckle and pat his broad back affectionately.

"Classes start in about 10 minutes, we can go inside now." 

"Oh, look who decided to show up." Sangyeon teases. 

"What? Why would I show up half an hour before classes?" Said newcomer replies. "I can take all the time I need, unlike you guys~" 

"Stop being arrogant, Hyun." The oldest playfully scolds. 

"Now now, don't fight." Jacob intervenes, voice clearly expressing his worry. 

"Hold on, what class do we have now?" You suddenly realize and look up to meet Sunwoo's eyes. 

"Uhh I'm pretty sure it's chem." He replies, now looking at Younghoon for confirmation. 

"Yeah" he nods. "We should go, it's all the way on the top floor of the building." 

Sunwoo and you groan in unison, totally not thrilled on having to walk up 10 flights of stairs. 

"I actually also have chemistry, but in another course." Jaehyun says, "It's on the same floor though." 

The three of you guys look at your friend with hope. 

"Urgh, fiiine." He groans, already knowing exactly what you were all going to ask of him. 

"Yay!" You beam happily and peel yourself away from Youngjae. "Sorry hun but you gotta get inside quickly to stay warm I guess." 

He grumbles something inaudible and you immediately attach yourself to Jaehyun's arm instead and give him a smile. "You're the best, Hyunnie!" 

He can't help the amused smile to crawl onto his lips. "I know." 

You hear Sunwoo make a gagging sound, prompting you to laugh. "Let's go now." 

"Sure, sure." Jaehyun hums and within a second the four of you are up on the top floor. 

"Thank you~" You happily chime and stand on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to the man's cheek. Then you turn around, link arms with Sunwoo and Younghoon and drag them into your chemistry classroom with a content smile on your face. 

Both men exchange a glance at that interaction and internally behead Jaehyun for having his useful ability. 

When Sunwoo turns his head to look at the older guy, Jaehyun shows him a priggish smirk and waves before disappearing. 

"He really-" 

"Good morning you three!" Your teacher greets and Sunwoo immediately stiffens, startled by the voice. "Class starts in 5 minutes, find your seats!" 

"Yes ma'am!" The three of you reply and give a quick bow before scurrying to your seats. 

"Miss Im is so scary…" Younghoon shudders and you nod. 

—

Your teacher had given the class an experiment to work on in groups of three. Funnily enough, a student had broken one of the school's bunsen burners, so now your group was without one. 

"Great, just great" Miss Im angrily says under her breath. 

"Miss" You say and raise your hand. She looks at you and nods. "I can use my power instead for fire-" 

"Under no circumstance will you do that!" She immediately shoots down your idea and raises her voice. "What if you set fire to something in here? You could hurt us!" 

You don't know what to say, feeling at a loss for words at her sudden outburst. Sunwoo and Younghoon notice your shaking hands and glare at the teacher. 

"Did you really have to lash out at her like that? She just suggested it!" Sunwoo angrily replies and stands up from his chair, smacking the table. "We all here have been living with our powers ever since we were 5! We have them under control! Y/N would never hurt someone on purpose!" 

Younghoon had hugged you close to calm your anxiety down while everyone just watched and listened to Sunwoo's outburst. 

Then it was quiet for a moment, Miss Im too stunned to say anything back and the rest of the class only agreed with him. 

Sunwoo was quite literally charged, you could see little lightning bolts dancing all over him. 

"Sunwoo…" You quietly say and he looks at you. "It's okay." 

He takes a deep breath and shoots the teacher another sharp glare. 

She clicks her tongue angrily and just ignores this incident, instead opting to not grade your group on this one. 

—

After class ends the three of you quickly make your way downstairs and onto the campus to meet the others. Sunwoo was stubbornly clinging onto your arm with an annoyed pout on his face. 

"Hey Sunwoo." you speak up and nudge him so he looks at you. "Thank you for interfering." 

He gives you a tight-lipped smile and says "No big deal."

"Thank you too Hoonie." you turn to the older guy and give him an affectionate smile which he returns shyly. 

"Oh look, the troublemakers are coming." Someone teases when the three of you proceed on your way towards your friend group. 

You turn to glare at the person, your red eyes flaring dangerously and they immediately look away, visibly flustered. 

"Hey hey, we already heard you guys got in trouble." Jacob says first when you are within hearing range. "What happened? Are you okay?" 

"Don't worry, we're fine." You answer and wave him off, but the way he eyes Sunwoo tells you that's not what he wanted to hear. 

"Miss Im went off on Y/N after she offered to use her powers for the experiment because a burner was missing." Younghoon explains and you feel Sunwoo tighten his group on your arm even further. "A- Sunwoo what's gotten into you?" You exclaim to him and prod at his arm to give you some room. 

"I'm sorry Noona, I'm just still mad at Miss Im." He mumbles and hides his face on your shoulder. 

"Stop being a baby." Juyeon speaks up and pries the younger one from you… well he tries. "Argh, let go already! Chanhee, come help me out!" 

"Wha- Hyung what am I supposed to do??" The younger one replies incredulously. 

"Just help me get this walking taser off of Y/N!" 

You snort at that exclamation and Sunwoo gives Juyeon a pointed look. "Did you really just call me a walking taser?!" 

"So what if I did?" 

"Unbelievable." Chanhee shakes his head, but an amused smile plays at his lips nonetheless. 

Your eyes basically scream 'help me!!' As you look at Youngjae, the youngest out of you all gives you a laugh before nodding. And suddenly Sunwoo's grip on you loosens and you quickly peel yourself away and hide behind the culprit. "Thanks Jae." you snicker against his arm as you peek out to look at a confused Sunwoo. 

"Yah!" He literally screams, making all of you flinch besides Changmin. "Youngjae I swear-" 

"Enough now, kids!" Sangyeon finally steps in and silences Sunwoo quickly. He pouts and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

You move from behind Youngjae to stand to his left, now in between him and Changmin. 

"Ohh guys!" The latter suddenly speaks up with sparkly eyes and everyone looks at him. "How about we have a sleepover at my house this weekend? We're free next week so we can have some fun together!" 

Everyone quickly makes eye contact with the others. "Sure!" Haknyeon nods and adjusts his choker. "I'm itching to take this thing off, it's really weird to be as close to normal as it can get here." 

You all laugh at that, remembering how he has to wear it due to his powers. His hyperawareness is a very useful power, but also hard to live with, since he gets easily overwhelmed in crowded places. He had someone in his family create that ability dimmer for him so he could live without being constantly overwhelmed. 

"You over there!" 

All of you turn to see who called, finding it to be your headmaster. "Kim Sunwoo and L/N Y/N, come over here." 

You give Youngjae a panicked look and he shoots you one right back. That can't be good. 

The two of you slowly walk towards the man, stopping about a meter in front of him. "Do you know why I came to speak with you?" 

"No, sir." You shake your head, not daring to look into his eyes. Out of the corner of your eyes you see Sunwoo trembling slightly. 

"Well, I came here because Miss Im told me about what happened during her chemistry lesson. Shall I remind you, Miss L/N, that it is strictly prohibited to use your powers on campus grounds, unless they're unable to be deactivated?" 

"N-No, I know that, sir." You reply quietly. "But we were missing a burner, so I thought-" 

"You thought what? That it would be a good idea to use your powers instead and to risk hurting your classmates? Hm?" 

"I'm so-sorry. It won't happen again, sir" 

"And now on to you, Mister Kim." The headmaster turns to Sunwoo instead and you try to calm your racing heart and keep your anxious tears at bay. "You're really cocky for a 2nd year, just raising your voice at a teacher like that AND using your powers in a classroom." 

"Miss Im has started it." Sunwoo replies through gritted teeth, "She could've calmly explained it, but instead she decided to humiliate Y/N Noona in front of the whole class! Was I just supposed to watch?!" 

"Sunwoo-" You hiss, scared for him. 

"Excuse me?" 

"You heard me right, sir." 

"Don't make me call your parents." The much older man threatens. 

"Oh, go ahead then." Sunwoo replies, "I don't care." 

"Sunwoo!" You say with big eyes. "Stop it!" 

"You should listen to your little friend, Mister Kim." The headmaster sneers, "I'll let you off the hook since you never did anything before. You better behave." he clicks his tongue and leaves. 

You grab Sunwoo by the collar and pull him to match your height. "Are you out of your mind?!" 

"Hey hey…" Jacob quickly makes an appearance and gently touches your shoulders with nothing but worry all over his face. "Please calm down Y/N." 

"You idiot, he could have expelled you or something! Don't do stuff like that!" You practically beg him with teary eyes. 

The younger one's eyes soften. "I'm sorry Noona, I won't do it again, but please don't cry." 

Jacob takes a step back and just watches, mostly relieved that you weren't angry and that he wouldn't have to break up a fight. 

"Give me a hug you idiot…" You grumble and wipe your eyes. Sunwoo gives a panicked wheeze, locking eyes with Changmin and Youngjae. They both just wave him off. 

"Okay okay, don't cry." He says and gives in, pulling you close and patting your back. 

The others watch from a bit away, soft smiles on their faces, almost forgetting why you two are in that situation in the first place. 

But then the bell rang, snapping you all out of your thoughts. 

Changmin drags you by your wrist, Chanhee on your other side as they lead the way to your next class. 

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?" Chanhee softly asks from your left side and you turn to look at him. 

"I feel okay now, thank you for worrying." You reply and flash the taller man a quick smile. 

Changmin intertwined his fingers with yours. It's nothing new, the two of you used to do that ever since you became friends. 

"Chanhee Hyung, where is the literature classroom again?" 

The oldest of you three thinks for a moment and looks at the numbers next to the doors. "It's room 371." 

"Ahh thank you~" Changmin happily replies and you guys make your way into the room. 

—

Chanhee stretches his long limbs after the bell chimed, indicating the end of the class. "Today's lesson was pretty intense, don't you guys think?" 

"Yeah, there was a lot." Changmin frowns a little. "Y/N how were you holding up?" 

Your head shoots up in surprise, caught off guard while packing your stuff. "Uh- It was alright. I understood most of it actually." 

Both men give you weird looks. "You never understand stuff in literature, what happened?" Changmin says with furrowed brows. 

"I think it's because she actually paid attention this time." Chanhee adds with a chuckle, "She looked so concentrated, it was cute." 

You feel your body heating up and avert your eyes. "Whatever, let's go." 

The two men exchange amused glances but don't speak on it any further, opting to just follow you out of the building. 

You didn't expect to run into this particular person when you exited through the large glass doors. 

After all, he got expelled for using his powers on campus and a few other things. 

"Hyunjun?" 

[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 2

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 4k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE]

The due dates that Tobirama gave you are more reasonable and flexible than you thought. You try to find something to complain about so you can relay it to Madara later and earn a small smile from him, but no, there is no reason to complain about it. The only thing you want to complain about are his so-called rules. Tobirama is not about leisure or lightening up, though that is not a bother to you if you are going to be honest. Planning to mess with him a little is just an attempt to wipe off that serious face of his. You want to know him based on what you see from him, not from what other people have told you.

However, you also do not want to mess things up. You are determined to work as hard as he does for this project because it is special to the village and for the children that are going to be attending the Academy. 

Also because you know you’ll get paid for it. You have been running low on money these days ever since you bought your own place. 

 Now that you are older, you wish you had the proper education to be a shinobi. You have to learn most of your skills along the way and apart from your family who had basically banished you, and even now, you are still learning as there are a lot of things that you missed. 

 Now, the children that are going to grow up here have something better for the future. They have more choices and bigger chances to become good shinobis. 

You get settled in your bed, which is literally the only furniture your place has. It is your dining table, your workplace, and also your resting place. Your weapons are littered on the floor, and your swords are leaning against the wall in one corner of the room. The books and the scrolls given to you lay open or stacked near your bed where you can reach for it. Some clean laundry you have yet to get to sit on the foot of your bed, and the space you are currently lying on is the only space your bed can make for you at the moment. 

 Quaint, but it has a lot of potential. 

Your new home, which is situated just at the edge of the village and newly built, is a home for civilians and also other shinobis who are not part of a clan, or those who rather have a place for themselves. This is a sign that the village is growing, and more and more families are becoming involved with it. 

You force yourself to go through the many materials that you need to read and study up on for the rest of the night until midnight, and you begin to write your suggestions after going through the material once again. You are good at absorbing information, but at the same time, you have trouble keeping still for a very long time. Sometimes you have the unfortunate ability to memorize the wrong things because your mind zeroes into whatever your brain wants to obsess over. 

 However, you have made it this far. You can adjust. 

You hope. 

//

You are pretty sure that Tobirama is sending you around the village in a goose chase just so that he can work on the curriculum himself. It’s obvious he did not want you near him with all those rules about preserving his boundaries. The said goose chase sounds reasonable enough–talk to the members of the clans, the ones who are the keeper of their knowledge and history and write them down. He did not even look you in the face when he sent you away, he just gave you a list of what to ask the clans residing in Konoha and a blank notebook and a scroll for you to record all of the information in. 

 This whole ordeal occupied you for the whole day and it also happens to bleed through the next day, in which you are convinced Tobirama has completed at least half the work. 

The thought does not make you happy. You want to do something, damn it. You feel like your life depends on it. 

Another day passes, and this time, Tobirama has you looking for artists, merchants, inventors and other skilled people in Konoha and recording their name and the location to find them. This part you understand well because you know that Hashirama wants to expand on other skills, but it feels so tedious and it makes the day longer. Not to mention, you do not really know anyone since you have been busy polishing your skills with Madara. Now that you think about it, you spend an awful lot of time with the man, ever since you came here. 

 Before you know it, you are breaking into a run towards the Hokage mansion. 

 Tobirama cannot be left to his own devices. You will not let him take this from you. 

You find the white-haired man seated on his usual spot, hand poised elegantly over a sheet of paper and eyes moving along the lines of a book he is reading. 

“Finished already?” Tobirama says in a very flat tone. 

 “Yeah, of course, I already know the people to put down.” Okay, that was a lie, and you know Tobirama had caught that because he glances at you briefly with narrowed eyes. 

You walk up to him and you lay out the information you gathered today. 

“Where’s your family from?” Tobirama straight up asks you without any preamble. The expression on his face does not change though you can feel that he is bothered by you. 

 You are taken aback by a beat, but you have no problem answering it. You have memorized the lines that you have to say that it begins to feel true. “They are a little far north from here, but they’re just traders, merchants, skillsmen.” 

 “Of what?” 

 “With the right amount of money, anything.” You say in an even, but casual tone. “They don’t like shinobi, so I left to make a living of my own.”

You can tell Tobirama did not like your answer. He puts his pen down and you feel him scrutinizing you. 

 "You have any friends?" He immediately follows up. 

 However, you have long mastered the skills of deflecting and only letting people know certain things about you. They always see what they want to see in you, never bothering to put two and two together that you are just painting a pretty picture for them to look at. 

 "Too many," you reply vaguely. 

 Tobirama sighs, and his eyes narrow. 

“I cannot trust you if you continue to evade me. This is integral to this village and its future, and I cannot have, no, I cannot afford to waste time or make mistakes,” Tobirama says and he meets your eyes. 

“I can promise you, I am ready to work just as much as you so let's not get personal,” you lean back and cross your arms. “And after this, I will get out of your hair forever. You wouldn’t even have to hear from me.” 

 Tobirama rolls his eyes, but you can tell he is satisfied with your answer. “Oh please, with a village this small, and me, holding an important position in the said village, you cannot guarantee that.” 

 You smirk and you pull out the chair across from him. “Touché, Lord Tobirama,” you emphasize the lord with a mocking tone. 

Tobirama grits his jaw visibly and he grabs his pen almost angrily. You are starting to think that maybe this is what Tobirama generally looks like. 

 “Get to work.” 

 “What is it this time? List the several types of drinks the people in this village make? Investigate the best type of fabric to wear for each season?” You prompt, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your lips. He just let you get away with calling him lord. 

 Adding a title to someone’s name is supposed to be a sign of respect, but the way you say it makes it sound derogatory. Like you’re cursing him. 

Tobirama looks about ready to yell, and part of you wants him to take the bait. You lean closer to gauge his reactions and you watch him immediately school his expression. It is like watching a magic show, one moment something is there, the next, it disappears. 

“Well, if you wanted me to make up more tasks for you to do, you should have just asked,” Tobirama deadpans. 

You watch him, intrigued. “Wow. Are you trying to be funny, or are you trying to insult me?” 

 “Please stop talking when I am working,” Tobirama does not sound like he is pleading. He hands you a stack of books to go through. “I want you to compile a list of necessary skills that you deem important, and I will do the same. We can discuss and vet on which skills are required to learn for each grade level right after.” 

You let out a breezy laugh, and you note how Tobirama seems to twitch at the sound. “Right, right, fine.” You pause. “Have you looked at my notes?”

“Of course I have,” Tobirama huffs and he shoots you a distasteful glare, and to you, it looks like he’s tired of talking. “I will make my own notes on where you’re lacking and then you revise it.” 

 “What do we need those for?” You ask, genuinely curious. “What else are we in charge of making?” 

“The reason I had you seek out artists, writers, bookmakers, and the like, is because we will commission them to make textbooks,” Tobirama explains. “We just need to get the information together. Meanwhile, I would also like to fill this library and another public library with other kinds of books.” 

You tap your chin. “Your brother tells me you like to invent things and all that. Are you going to include your research and your inventions in the library?” 

 Tobirama sighs, visibly withering at the statement that his brother talks behind his back, but he revives himself enough to get back to his work. “Depends on what my brother approves of.” 

You let out an involuntary chuckle. Here are the two most powerful known shinobis in the world right now, and they argue over mundane things. 

 Tobirama raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head. 

He takes that as a sign to keep on working, so you decide to keep to yourself. 

 Surprisingly, you are starting to enjoy this. It’s not as bad as you imagined. 

//

Perhaps you spoke too soon, because here you are at the crack of dawn–no not even the crack of dawn because the surroundings are still dark blue. You yawn as you arrive, and find Tobirama waiting in the middle of the training ground in a different outfit you have not seen him in. He seems to only have one color palette; he wears a navy wrap-around jacket that has a collar in a lighter shade of blue. The sleeves are short, showing off his muscles, and all of this is tied with a light yellow-green belt around his waist. A sword is secured to his belt, and it hangs on his side ready to be drawn. A happuri guards his forehead and the sides of his face, and for some reason, this makes him look more authoritarian and older. A mesh armor peeks through the space between his collars and even in your sleepiness, you note a defined torso that you keep to yourself. 

You do not even see an ounce of sleepiness in him and you huff.  

 Tobirama merely glances at you, but every time he looks at you, it feels like he is already exasperated. 

 “Is it just us?” You try not to sound too whiny. “Also I ate breakfast, I’m not falling for whatever it is you have in mind.” 

 “And what do you think is on my mind?” 

 “I don’t know? A test of survival, starving us for days in the forest with only the surroundings as our resource?” You rest a hand on your two swords–an uchigatana and a wakizashi, both the same in appearance and made from the same metal. 

“I said not to eat too much breakfast, I did not discourage you from it.” Tobirama lets out a sarcastic sigh–something he can really pull off well. “I am not that cruel.” 

 You hear an excited gasp behind you and you turn to find Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzo walking towards the two of you. 

“Tobirama-sensei!” Hiruzen calls enthusiastically, at the crack of dawn. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought my friend again!” 

You glance at Tobirama and you see his face visibly soften at the sight of his student. 

“And I didn’t know Y/N-sensei’s joining us!” Hiruzen bounds up to you and you reach up to ruffle his hair. He turns to you and points at Tobirama. “He’s a really cool sensei! Really cool!” 

Tobirama suddenly looks constipated and you laugh out loud. 

 “We’ll see, kiddo,” you tell him. “We’ll see.” 

Two more kids come, and the girl, Utatane Koharu, somehow looks pissed, which you can suddenly relate to. The boy beside her, Mitokado Homura, looks more calm and composed as he adjusts his glasses on his face. 

Tobirama nods, and then he breaks off into a light jog. Obediently, the kids follow after him and you grudgingly follow behind them. They must be used to this. 

 After a few rounds, the kids start to stretch and you do the same as well, and everything has been pretty calm. You watch as the kids do sets of push-ups, sit-ups, calisthenics and you are impressed at their stamina. They’re barely twelve, but then again, if you are training under Senju Tobirama, you can tell that you will be pushed to your limit. 

You feel a pang of envy from these kids for a moment, but you push it away. There is no reason to look back into the past and feel bitter about how things worked out. 

“So what’s next, sensei?” Hiruzen inquires. You can see how much these kids admire the man. 

 “Sparring,” Tobirama replies. “Since Danzo’s here, you guys are evenly matched. Last man standing gets to fight me.” 

 “What about Y/N-sensei?” Danzo interjects. 

 “Yeah, what about me?” You smirk, and you lighten your voice so that it sounds more childish. 

You can feel Koharu rolling her eyes. 

You narrow your eyes at him and let out a small stream of breath through your mouth. “I see.” 

 Tobirama slightly raises his chin haughtily. It suits him. He does not need to speak to dominate the atmosphere. He shrugs, and it sparks something in you. 

 “I’ll still try my best,” you smirk, but underneath your facade, you are starting to get annoyed. Which is new, because you are generally a patient person. 

Tobirama takes Hiruzen and Koharu while you take the other two to coach during their matches. You stand in between Danzo and Homura, watching their small faces study each other. 

“Don’t kill each other,” you advise, and you start their match. 

 The two go at each other, with Danzo throwing the first punch. You back off a little to make sure that you can see their stances. 

 Homura whirls around and his foot juts out, with his heel aiming towards Danzo’s head. Danzo ducks down, and kicks at Homura’s stomach the moment he regains his posture from the kick. 

Homura staggers back, and now he is on the defensive, blocking Danzo’s hits and kicks, barely dodging them as he keeps backing away. You notice the hits and misses from each boy.

 “Homura, don’t back away!” You yell out. “Get closer to him!” 

Homura does as you say, and Danzo is unable to land a hit on him, limiting his movements unless–

 Danzo jumps back to get away, and kicks Homura on the chest. 

 “Nice!” You cheer. 

 “Sensei, whose side are you on?” Homura complains and his hand comes up to rub his chest. 

You laugh. “Neither!” You glance at both of their faces. “Okay, you two, come here.” 

 Danzo and Homura face each other again. 

 “Save your movements, don’t be so generous with them,” you tell them. “Don’t punch just to punch. Again!” 

The two boys come at each other and you stand back to watch them again. This time, you do not offer any more suggestions. You glance to where Tobirama is at, and he is squatting on the ground, his eyes trained on the students’ footwork. 

 You hear him call out that Hiruzen’s feet are too far apart. 

You snap back to the two boys just in time to watch Homura flip Danzo on his back. 

You walk over and you peer at Danzo. “You okay?” 

 “Yes,” the boy wheezes out. 

“Alright, you’re done,” you chuckle and you look at Homura. “You win, then. Good job. Help him up.” 

You glance at the other group, and you see Koharu sock Hiruzen straight to his face and Tobirama jump up to his feet. Hiruzen gets to his feet, and you see a trickle of blood coming out of his nose. 

When Hiruzen gets closer, you ruffle his hair affectionately and you laugh as he grimaces. 

 “Not funny!” He whines nasally. 

 “Keep your hands up next time!” You taunt even though he may already know this. 

Tobirama puts a hand on his shoulder and steers him towards a rock so that he can sit. “Sit up and lean forward,” he tells his student. 

 The rest of the kids walk towards him to watch and poke fun at Hiruzen. 

 You stay back and cross your arms to watch them. You know that there is no place for you to be there. 

 Once Tobirama is finished attending to his student, he turns to you. “Koharu, you’re the referee.” 

You size him up, your eyes travelling from his face and down to his waist. What was one of his rules again? 

 Anticipation builds in your core, and your hand rests on the scabbard of your sword, your thumb playing at the hilt. 

“Are we including tricks today?” You inquire. 

 “If you want,” Tobirama curtly replies. 

Koharu starts the fight, and Tobirama wastes no time coming at you. 

 His first hit is heavy, and you block it with both of your forearms and brace yourself by stepping back one leg. You are quick to grab his wrist as you twist your arm and you step forward, meaning to put your leg behind his, but he breaks away from you and disturbs the momentum that you were going to use against him. 

 You are quick to back away because he comes at you without stopping. 

 He is fast, and he is heavy with his hands. You notice his open hands, ready for grappling. His stance is lower, and you know that it will be hard to knock him off balance, and the effects of kicking at his head will go to his advantage. 

You need an opening. 

 You launch yourself at him, and as he prepares himself to grab you, you drop to your knees and slide in between his legs, hitting his knee as you pass him by. He turns to your direction, and you quickly use his bent knee to step and kick towards his head. He blocks you and you see him almost grab at your ankle.

 You do not give him a chance to gather himself, and you swing again at him, this time using his shoulder to propel yourself around him and using his weight and yours, you are able to lock his head with your legs. Just as you are about to go for another twist to bring him to the ground, Tobirama counters by catching you and launching you off of him. 

 “You fight like an assassin,” Tobirama says as you roll to the ground and to your feet. 

“Are you impressed?” You grin at him, half jokingly. 

 Tobirama does not answer you, but it looks like he is about to say something worse as he charges at you. 

You step closer to him so that he does not follow through his movement, and you grab the hilt of his sword and then you strike your palm at his chest to send him back. You whirl around to brandish his sword in the air. 

 What was one of his rules? You suddenly remember.

  Do not touch my things, unless I give them to you. 

For a moment, everyone freezes. 

You study the blade in your hand. 

 “This is a very nice sword,” you muse, and you strike at the air and flip it, testing the weight. You run a finger on the blunt edge of his sword. “Well-balanced and thin, but very sharp. Excellent for accurate and fast hits...and conducting lightning.”

Tobirama’s face grows stormy. His fists tighten. 

 You twist blade with a slight twist of your wrist, and you hand it with the hilt towards him. “Sorry. I was curious.” 

Tobirama takes his sword and quickly sheathes it. You note a minuscule change in his expression, but it quickly passes and you are disappointed for not being quick enough to note it. 

“So, is this a tie?” Koharu asks, uncertain. 

“Yes,” Tobirama grits through his teeth. 

You watch Tobirama’s tense shoulders and decide to leave him alone. You probably went too far today. 

“Well, that was fun, but I have to go,” you say, even though the rest of your day is pretty much free. "I have some friends to meet." 

 Tobirama suspects that you certainly do not have any friends to meet, but he does not say anything more. He’s probably eager to make you go. There is nothing he would want more. 

“Aw!” Hiruzen cries out. His nose bleed has stopped. “Thanks for coming by, sensei!” 

You wink at the kids, and you make your exit, your hand still remembering the feel of Tobirama’s sword. It is oddly familiar, and you wonder if the craftsmanship is similar to your own blade. 

You can feel Tobirama’s stare behind you and it burns the back of your neck as if he is shooting laser beams at you, and just when you glance back to regard it, he is turning away and conversing with his students about hand seals. 

Though it was just a joke and a way to catch him by surprise, you can’t help but feel that you just stomped over the thin olive branch that he was handing out to you. 

You note to yourself to make it up to him tomorrow. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER THREE >>>]

[seventeenwrites]

Catharsis - Chapter Two

-> Group: The Boyz

-> Type: Short Series

-> Member(s) of Interest: Sunwoo

-> Word Count: ~2.9k

-> Genre: angst, fluff, apocalypse au

-> Warnings: alien apocalypse, guns/weapons, blood, violence, death, cursing, female MC

-> Playlist: Hold You in My Arms by Ray LaMontagne; All Right Now by Angel Olsen; Saccharine by Atta Boy; Love & Hate by Michael Kiwanuka

-> a/n: Hey guys! Here's chapter two! Again, I want to emphasize that my goal with this series is to portray a kind of love which transcends any kind of labels we’ve assigned to love (romantic, platonic, familial, etc.). It may seem a bit hard-and-fast, but I think that is a reflection of the world around these characters. When you don’t know if you will live to see another day, when you are surrounded by death and tragedy, you live and you love without regrets, or at least you try your damnedest to.

Catharsis.

And then, fortunately, my eyes opened. Now, this wasn’t fortunate because I was alive, but rather because of the way I was alive. The fire that had separated Sunwoo and I the night before had died, but the coals were still glowing, so that they could easily be re-ignited. Just beyond the pit lay Sunwoo, still sleeping. One of his shoes had been thrown six feet away in the middle of the night, and his left arm was almost completely smothering his face.

Before I had time to laugh at him, a voice interrupted me.

“Oh, Ari! I’m assuming Sunny filled you in last night.” I whipped my head in the direction of the voice, to find the same man who had yelled at us the night before. Jacob, right? When not puffy-faced and half-asleep, he was much better-looking. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes popped out and his cheekbones were raised nonetheless, in a way that reminded me of my mother's face in her youth. Next to Jacob was another man, who I could immediately tell was the leader of whatever this place was. His nose high on his face and his brow heavy, he was reminiscent of a Renaissance sculpture, elegantly beautiful, yet intimidatingly powerful. He was also impressively clean; everything from his ears to his nail beds were devoid of even a single smudge of dirt.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I think so,” I said, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around myself, suddenly self-conscious of my dirty T-shirt and basketball shorts.

“Good. Sangyeon and I are gonna go collect more firewood. There’s berries and nuts in those if you get hungry.” Jacob pointed to a collection of miscellaneous containers by the centermost tent. Wooden crates, mason jars, old metal lunch boxes decorated with superheroes and princesses, even a piggy bank. Resourceful. Smart, I thought to myself. I turned back to the two men, to find that Jacob had already started walking away. Sangyeon still stood before me and assessed me for a few seconds, slightly nodding his head and furrowing his brow.

“We’ll be back,” he said before slinging a backpack over one shoulder and following Jacob out of the camp. I didn’t blame him. If I was running a camp and one of my members suddenly showed up with a random girl, I would be suspicious, too.

As the day got brighter, more of the members woke up and came to greet me, and I got to know more about who these people were and how this place worked. There was Kevin, who came out of the same tent as Jacob, and who was a self-proclaimed genius chef, but judging by the defined musculature on his small figure, he was useful for more than his culinary skills. In the next tent there was Changmin and Chanhee, who seemed to be attached at the hip; they were both lean, perfect for long-distance running. The next tent housed Eric and Haknyeon, who were both robust and muscular, obvious fighters. The last tent was home to Juyeon, Younghoon, and Hyunjae, who entered last and were all visibly athletic, with their long and sturdy physiques. I had finally figured it out. This place was a powerhouse. No Echo would be a match for these boys.

“Always tardy, huh, sleepyheads?” Changmin jested towards the last three to join our circle around the dead fire.

“SHHH!” Eric suddenly play-whispered, “You’ll wake the baby.” He pointed towards Sunwoo’s still-sleeping figure.

“Eric, you’re literally younger than him,” Kevin laughed while trying to catch berries in his mouth, and failing. Hilariously.

“By like eight months!” Eric shouted, a slight pout donning his face.

“That’s pretty significant, if you ask me.” We all looked down at Sunwoo, whose arm was still covering his eyes, but whose mouth was visibly quivering to maintain a laugh. He peeked out beneath his arm to see what Eric’s response would be, but Haknyeon was already holding Eric back.

“Okay, babies. Let’s calm down. Jacob and Sangyeon will be back soon and I’m sure they’ll have food.” Juyeon hushed-- his voice had a way of calming the boys down that could only have been achieved through years of trust and reliability. His voice and the mention of food seemed to lull the pretend conflict, and pretty soon, side conversations enveloped the entire group. I sat and watched Sunwoo. He was chatting with Kevin who was right next to him, and he was laughing at something, his head thrown back. I found myself smiling. Two smiles in 24 hours. That’s gotta be a record.

Sunwoo’s eyes met mine and I felt my heart leap. He excused himself from his conversation and walked over to sit next to me, placing his hand on top of mine. Again, I noted just how soft his hands were. And warm too, compared to the frigid morning air. As if feeling his warmth made me colder, a shiver traveled down my spine.

“Cold?” Sunwoo asked. I nodded in reply. “Let me in there, then,” he said, pointing at my blanket. I opened it and he stuck himself into my arms, grabbing them to close on top of him. He was warm. Physically, but he also warmed me from the inside, like drinking a cup of hot cocoa after playing in the snow, or getting a hug from your mom after your first piano recital. He felt like home.

-------

When Jacob and Sangyeon came back, they were dragging a deer behind them, backpacks chock full of firewood. The boys all scrambled up excitedly; I could only make out random interjections and complaints about hunger from the younger ones.

“You’ll finally get to see me in action, Ari,” Kevin quipped, gathering random tools and ingredients to cook the deer with.

Sangyeon walked up to Sunwoo and I, placing his bag by his feet and looking me up and down, just like he had before he left. Still suspicious of me, I guess. He turned his eyes to the boy next to me, looking him up and down as well, and started, “Go get some water from the stream, will you?”

“Sangyeon, come on! It’s been three weeks already, surely I can do something else?”

“Sunny, I’m sorry, but your legs obviously just not healed yet.”

Sunwoo looked as though he was going to protest again, but Jacob cut in before he could: “Doctor’s orders, bud. I’ll take a look at it again later today.”

Shoulders slumped, Sunwoo dramatically sighed and grabbed my hand, dragging me along with him.

“I’ve been on water duty for three weeks, now. I mean, I understand. They care about me; they want me to be safe, and the path to the stream is clear and short-- almost impossible to get hurt. But like, come on. Three weeks of getting water. I’m sick of this damn path!” He joked, swatting a vine out of his way.

“What happened to your leg, anyway?” I asked. “If you don’t mind sharing,” I quickly added, suddenly afraid that it was too personal.

Sunwoo stopped in his tracks, looking at the ground. I could see the wheels turning in his head, as if he was trying to figure out how much of himself to reveal to me. He sighed and let go of my hand, turning to face me. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at me, the morning sunlight shining only on the right half of his face.

“It was about two months ago. A few of us were out looking for clothes and other essentials. We figured we’d go about ten miles east and get to the city that used to be there, hit all of the convenience stores and shopping malls. But we strayed too far from camp, and we got lost on our way back. By sundown we were in the middle of the woods with no shelter, no food, nothing.

“We were ambushed in the middle of the night. Those bastards were wearing our own faces. We couldn’t tell who was real and who was an Echo. Hyunjae did this to me,” he said, referencing his injured ankle, “Pushed me into a big tree trunk. I forgive him, obviously. It was crazy, and he was trying to protect himself. That same night…” he trailed off.

I could tell that he was about to cry, since he was starting to choke on his words, “That same night, I-- I killed one of our guys. Didn’t know it was him until it was too late, until he was already bleeding red. I shot him. He was flailing around all crazy-like with his knife. I didn’t know if he was him or an Echo, so I shot him. I should've-- I should’ve shot his foot, or his hand, to see his blood. But I didn’t. I got him right underneath the heart. Missed it by a hair. So I held him as he went. For thirteen minutes, I held him. I looked him in the eyes as the life left ‘em and I held his hands as they went limp. That poor fucking bastard, I’m so sorry to him.”

Sunwoo was crying. It was a cry I had never seen or heard from a human before. It was absolutely, heart-wrenchingly tragic, and the only thing I could do for him was hold him. I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t his fault, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that he was still a good person, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that I loved him, because he knew that, too.

I didn’t tell him that his member was in a better place, because we both knew it wasn’t true.

-------

When we got to the stream, we were holding hands again. Sunwoo was still wiping tears off of his face with his free hand, but he was smiling again.

“Whaddya say, Ari? Care for a little dip before we head back?” Sunwoo teased, rocking his shoulders as if to say I’m joking, but if you’re down, then I’m really fucking down.

“Fine, kid,” I chortled, “but only because that water looks deliciously crisp right now.”

I turned away to place all of the water buckets on the ground, and when I turned back, Sunwoo was standing a yard or two away, facing the water. He reached down and took his shirt off in a swift and seamless motion, one which seemed to me only men were capable of performing. The sunlight kissed his skin, illuminating its smooth and tanned surface. The shadows of his shoulder blades danced across his back as he attempted to balance on a stepping stone. The gentle slope of his neck blended seamlessly into the crease of his spine which traveled all the way down his back, like a book that I never wanted to stop reading. His arms, outstretched in a balancing act, were lean, yet capable and sturdy shooting arms, slightly different in size as a reflection of his right-handedness.

He turned around to look at me, a wide smile on his face. His eyes were still bloodshot and puffy from crying, and his face still splotchy, but his smile-- his smile was brighter than the light of any sun. I didn’t think I had ever seen anyone or anything so beautiful in my life. I smiled back at him, and I felt my own eyes start to well up with tears.

“Come on, Ari! This stream isn’t gonna skinny-dip itself!” Forgiving his slightly awkward--yet adorable--phrasing, I accepted his challenge, jumping in with him.

As our heads both emerged, we held hands under the water, my thumb rubbing the soft skin of his. He leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of my ear, before settling his face into the crook of my neck. And then, again, we felt like nothing more than an extension of the earth below our feet and the sky above our heads.

Catharsis.

-------

Sunwoo and I arrived back at camp and we were met with ten horrified faces. To be fair, we looked an absolute mess. Our clothes were sopping wet, hanging off of our bodies like rags. As our feet had been too wet to put our shoes back on, we walked back barefoot, as evidenced by the dirt, mud, and scratches littering our ankles and calves. Our hair, like something out of a horror movie, dangling in front of our faces in stringy and curly sections.

“Sunny! What the heck, dude?” Jacob cried, staring in shock at Sunwoo’s now dirty and tattered bandage on his ankle. Sunwoo half-smiled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Cobie. You should’ve seen the stream today! It was so beautiful; we just had to swim in it!” He replied, a slight pout on his lips.

Chanhee was sitting at the fire a few feet away, a sly smile engulfing his face. “Oh sure,” he teased, “Swimming. I bet that’s all you two were doing.” He puckered his lips and wrapped his arms around himself, a type of mockery I hadn’t seen since high school. I couldn’t help but giggle at him, even if he was jumping to conclusions, and incorrect ones, at that.

Sunwoo and I hadn’t kissed. We didn’t need to, and maybe we never would. We only needed to hold each other. And frankly, that’s all I wanted to do for the rest of my days.

As Jacob unwrapped the bandage from Sunwoo’s ankle, his smile faltered for a second before he replaced it. I knew that look. I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“What is it?” Jacob looked at me, contemplating, then turned to Sunwoo and sighed. He resumed his faux angry persona from earlier, resembling a loving parent.

“This is why I told you to be careful, Sunny! The wound must have reopened at some point, and you got it dirty when you were out there. It should be fine if we wash it and dress it with herbs, but you’re gonna have to stay off of it for longer-- and no more playing in dirt, for Christ’s sake, Sunny.” Sunwoo looked like a child getting scolded for tracking dirt into the house, but I could see the twinkle of mischief still ever-bright in his innocent eyes.

Sangyeon walked over to us, still as reserved and stoic as ever. He looked me over as he always did, eyes filled with suspicion and piqued interest. He turned to Jacob, who I had figured out was something of a second-in-command.

“We’ve received word of a pack about a mile west. We should head out now, while it’s still bright out,” he turned to look at Sunwoo, still talking to Jacob“This is sort of an all-hands-on-deck situation. Is he okay to shoot?”

Sunwoo replied for Jacob by standing up, still young and eager to prove himself, “I’m fine, I promise! I’m not in pain, and my ankle won’t affect my shooting if I’m sniping. Sir.” Sangyeon looked Sunwoo up and down, slightly nodding his head, then reached out to pat him on the shoulder.

“Don’t get hurt again, buddy. We can’t lose anyone else.” That was the first time I had seen Sangyeon let his guard down, and I even saw a tear slip out of the corner of his left eye. Sunwoo bit his lip in an attempt to suppress the tears he had already let go that morning. Sangyeon was quick to wipe it and resume his cold air, though, and he turned to look at me, unsure of what to do with me.

“What do you mean you received word? And why are you seeking out Echoes? Shouldn’t we be, like, hiding from them?” I asked.

Sangyeon stared at me again. “I hear you’re good with a knife.”

“Not good. Excellent.”

He nodded and walked off, leaving my questions unanswered, to which I looked at Sunwoo in disbelief.

A slight smile spread across Sunwoo’s face and he started walking towards one of the smaller tents, expecting me to follow him. When I walked in, I saw more radios than I had ever seen in my life. Old ones that couldn’t have been less than 60 years old, the ones that were built into flashlights, walkie talkies, even old car radios.

“Kid, what the hell is this?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“This, Ari, is anything that can send or receive signals through the next hundred miles. Over the year and a half we’ve been here, we’ve found all of them.”

“B--But why?”

“So we can get them before they get us. There are lots of us out there, we send word to each other if we see or hear of Echoes that we can’t get ourselves.”

The wheels in my head were turning so quickly, and I still couldn’t understand it.

“So-- So you guys actually… hunt Echoes? You don’t just run from them?”

“That’s right. And we’re gonna keep hunting them. Until every one of those bastards is six feet under.”

It all finally made sense. How organized and resourceful they all were. How skilled they all were at fighting. The hierarchy and positions they all assumed, with Sangyeon at the top. This wasn’t a camp.

It was a machine. An Echo-hunting machine.

[honeypirate]

Fighters to Lovers

Kyotani x Reader

Underground Fighter AU

The top two underground fighters fall for each other in the middle of their bout. Reader is a great fighter and kickboxer and fights anyone.

This is probably bad but I had fun writing it

Warning- it’s basically all a fight scene. Blood.

Another warning - its unedited haha

———————

You wrap your fingers methodically, a routine you have done hundreds of times before, with black tape to protect your knuckles. You bought your own black tape because you preferred the look better than the usual white. You pull on your black leggings and put a black zip up over your black sports bra. After putting on your, you guessed it, black tennis shoes, you grab your gym bag that has your spare clothes and water bottle in it, and leave your apartment to begin your jog.

No not to the normal gym, to the underground basement that you like to fight at. The anything goes fight club that you’ve been a part of for the past few months. Your usual gym where you go to train and box led you to meet a very creepy guy who gave you an offer you couldn’t refuse. Fighting with risk that also had a huge pay off if you win. You hadn’t had to worry about work anymore because of your winnings, you are unbeaten, undefeated, and tonight you’re fighting one of the best underground fighters known in your area. If you can beat him you’ll be #1.

“There’s my little money maker!” the creepy guy from your gym says when you walk through the door at the end of the stairwell. His name was Ken, he was a short, round man, who always smelled like a dog kennel. You had suspicions that he was also fighting dogs but you stayed out of business that wasn’t yours. “Is he here yet?” you say as you take off your jacket, walking through a door frame, the door had been ripped off by an angry man you beat once and still hasn’t been replaced, you doubt it would be, as Ken would say ‘it is unnecessary.’

“He’s in route” You nod going to unlock and open the locker on the left and put your jacket and bag inside, taking out your water bottle and headphones.

You sit and put on your headphones, playing your pumped up playlist, closing your eyes and letting out a long breath as you sit on the bench. You could hear muffled movement and talking around you, guessing that your opponent had arrived. You didn’t open your eyes and no one bothered you, this was your ritual and everyone was familiar with it. You didn’t like to see your opponent until the ring and everyone was okay with that, which meant that you haven’t even seen your opponent at all, you have no idea what he looks like, you just know his nickname is Mad Dog.

The familiar touch on your shoulder signals it’s time, you open your eyes and nod at Ken, who has a greasy smile on his lips. He doesn't have to tell you how much money is riding on you, you have a pretty good idea and when you win you’ll be in fat city, on the off chance you loose you’re pretty sure they’ll kill you. You stand and stretch out your arms, your body still warm from your jog and from the training you have done before this, you keep your headphones on as you follow Ken from the locker room and out the door that leads to the ring.

Once you pass through the door you can hear screaming and cheering through your music, the bare, humid and hot, concrete room was filled with people, most of them drunk, surrounding a square ring made out of wooden pallets and barely held together. You get to the ring and a pallet is moved out of the way, you take off your headphones and the loudness hits you. Handing them to Ken you silently kick off your shoes and walk through the pallet and it is slid back in place behind you.

You look at the back of your opponent in front of you, strong muscles across his shoulders, blonde hair dyed with dark stripes. You start to bounce on your toes, shaking out your muscles and popping your neck, you hear cheers all around, cheering your name slightly more than they are cheering for the so called Mad Dog.

Ken behind you holds up a megaphone and as he speaks the crowd gets even wilder, “we all know why we are here! So let’s get to it! Once the fight starts there will be no changes to the bets so make sure you have them in now!” people scramble to place their bets and five minutes later Ken is speaking again “Mad Dog against our resident Title holder Y/N/N! Only rule is no weapons! Fight until one of you is incompasitated. Are you ready Y/N/N?” you nod once and furrow your eyebrows, your body flooding with adrenaline and endorphins, your skin tingles in anticipation. “Are you ready Mad Dog?” he finally turns around and his pissed off expression makes you smirk, you take in his well cut body ashe nods as well, here we go, you get into your Southpaw fighting stance, your right leg in front of your left and a bounce in your step, bringing your fists up to guard, “FIGHT”

It’s like your world goes in slow motion once you hear that word, you see him charging in towards you but it seems slowed down, you dodge easily and hit him with a jab to his kidney as you step around him quickly, now standing behind him. He’s on you again in a second and instead of going round him you wait, wait until he goes to strike, he goes for an uppercut and you dodge, quickly jabbing him in the jaw, your first two knuckles connecting satisfyingly with a smack.

He growls and you chuckle as he tries to get you with a kick to your knee, you side step and punch him with your left, in the side of his right ear, he grabs you by your neck and you laugh out loud, blocking his other hand that tries to punch “are we flirting or fighting here?” you say and the fire in his eyes rages brighter “I literally have my hand across your neck” he spits out between his teeth “that didn’t answer my question, Mad Dog”

He jabs you in the ribs and you feel a few of them crack but the pain gives you more energy, you like the pain because it clears your head of anything else. You jump up, he gasps and his grip on your neck loosens, kneeing him as hard as you can in the chin causes him to fly backwards with a grunt, his face scrunched in pain and anger. You land on your feet, the crowd going wild but you don't even notice, your eyes on the man in front of you as he pops up quick, spitting out some blood before bringing his fists up in a guard again. You wink at him and he growls again, you’re beginning to realize why he’s called Mad Dog.

You wave him towards you, trying to provoke him more, the throbbing in your side fading away to the back of your mind as he closes the distance between you, you stand up straight, dropping your guard slightly on your right as he comes toward you, trying to bait him into going for your jaw. He does exactly what you want, his fist headed straight for your face, you chuckle and dodge last minute, hitting him with a swift uppercut to the left side of his jaw before jabbing him in his ribs. You block his attack and go to kick him but he grabs your ankle, pulling hard causing you to fall on your back, he kicks you hard in the stomach and you cough, the air rushing from your lungs.

You bait him into another kick and before it lands you grab his ankle, pulling him down to the ground with you and quickly mounting him you start firing off punches towards his ears and face. He guards his face pretty well and you let out a slight sigh before popping up off of him and backing away quickly “get up” you state and shake out your limbs as he gets back to his feet and charges you, you punch quickly, landing your fist to his cheek, taking the initial shock of his pain to reset, before bringing your elbow down to the opposite side of his face where his guard was down, his fist connecting to your nose as your elbow connects with his eyebrow. When you both pull away you’re both bleeding, you grin at him, your bloody nose filling your mouth as well, your teeth stained red.

His sight is blurred by the blood from his eyebrow but his grin is mirroring yours, you both laugh at the same time, both enjoying this fight immensely. You bring your guard up and rush him, dodging his attack and laughing as you slide behind him, kicking his knees and slipping your arm around his neck and locking it in place perfectly, squeezing as hard as you could as he struggled against you, he was no doubt stronger than you but you were not going to let go. He tried to punch back at you, connecting his fists to your ears and chin, the pain fueling your strength. You scream out, blood flying out with your spit as you pull harder and fall back, locking your legs around his middle, he lands a fist to your cheek but you can feel it isn’t as strong as his last ones, you start to laugh, the cheers from the crowd finally filling your senses as the man in your arms finally passes out, you hold it for just a few seconds longer, just in case he was faking you out before letting him go.

You lay him gently on the ground, staying kneeled by him as Ken comes into the arena, handing you a towel he raises your hand “Y/n IS STILL! UNDEFEATED!!!” you hear cheers and you nod once with a smile, holding the towel to your nose after using it to wipe off the sweat from your face. Ken leans down, “I’ll give you your money in the locker room, half of these people are pissed. I’m proud of you.” he pats your back and you nod again.

You sit back on your butt as the crowd begins to disperse, several of them being thrown out by the security, but you always stay in the ring until they are all gone, safer this way. You stare at Mad Dog, when your nose stops bleeding you fold the towel and hold the clean side to his eyebrow. ‘He’s quite handsome’ you thought, and then you smiled softly as he began to stir. His eyes open and he looks at you for a few seconds before he slowly sits up, taking the towel from your hand and keeping it against his face. “I lost then” he says and you nod “let me buy you a drink” you say and he looks at you with shock before he grins “i'll meet you outside in ten minutes?” he asks before standing and helping you up,”sounds good” you both head to different locker rooms, to clean up and assess the damage.

You grab another hand towel, running it under cool water and wiping down your body before changing your pants and pulling on a t-shirt, putting on some deodorant and throwing your bag over your shoulder, you wince from the pain in your ribs returning from lack of adrenaline. Ken comes through the door and hands you a fat envelope. “We will plan your next fight when those ribs of yours heal up. Text me when that is. No rush for the champion” you shove the envelope into your bag “thanks Ken” nothing more is said as you walk past him out of the basement to the stairs.

When you reach the street Mad Dog pushes off the wall and falls in step by you “that was actually fun” he says and you chuckle “yeah fun until I can feel my injuries” he laughs as well and you speak again “it was fun though. Finally fighting someone on my level. It was nice. You’re really good” he laughs “thank you y/n” the door to the bar opens and he reaches up, wincing from the pain in his body, and grabs the top of the door, holding it open as you walk inside “thank you” you say in passing and he follows you inside.

You get a couple drinks and then sit at a table in the back, far away from the speakers and crowd, luckily hiding from anyone who saw you both fight.

After a few drinks your muscles relax, your nose barely throbbing but you can feel the beginning of your black eye blooming. The more the conversation flows the closer you guys scoot towards the middle of the round booth. You learned about his days as a volleyball player in high school, how he did underground fighting to pay for college but still fights anyway because he likes it. It’s easy money for him. You tell him about what got you into underground fighting, how Ken creeps you out but you know if you ran from him he wouldn’t be able to run after you. It wasn’t that funny of a joke but you both laughed anyway, ignoring the scream in your ribs by every laugh, chuckle, and inhale of breath. His arm was above the back of the booth, his body facing yours, your hand was against his on the table, avoiding his bruising knuckles with your fingertips, and you leaned your head against his forearm as you caught your breath, smiling as you looked at him.

His eyebrow was bruising but his cut had closed pretty well, he had a butterfly bandage against it that was pinched between the swollen skin above his eyes. He had a bruise forming under his jaw and on his cheek. You really did a number on him. The alcohol in your system didn’t add anything to your confidence or guts, you would have done this even if you were sober.

You reach up and gently cup his face “I feel bad for the number I’ve done on your handsome face” you whisper and he gasps at how sweet and gentle you are “I’m sorry for cracking your ribs, I didn’t want to hurt such a beautiful person but I figured you wouldn’t respect me if I didn’t give my all” you grin and chuckle “you’re right. I’m glad you gave it your all” he scoots as close as he can towards you, cupping your cheek gently as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours, taking care to not bump your nose or hurt you at all. You kiss him back as gentle as he kisses you, making sure to not hurt his injuries. But after a few seconds something snaps, the desire in your bones flowing freely as he pulls you into his lap, kissing you increasingly harder and more passionately. You moan quietly into his mouth and then gasp, pulling away when a flash catches your attention. A drunk group of men talking about how they just saw you both fight and it was amazing, he moves his head to look around you, sending a menacing glare at the group who all go silent before running back to the other side of the bar.

You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder “i realized I don’t know your real name” you whisper breathlessly and he chuckles, his hands tickling up and down your back softly over your shirt. “Kentaro Kyotani. It’s very nice to meet you” he says and turns his head, kissing your forehead as you lay on his shoulder. “Do you wanna go on a real date sometime?” You ask and he laughs “oh god yes”

[adorablele]

@riothae ♡ to my darling table leg 💞 this is to push the doyoung dream boy agenda. and also i’m sorry for not releasing this on your birthday, please accept this belated birthday gift.

☍ pairing; kim doyoung x reader ☍ genre; fluff, romance, a little bit of angst but mostly fluffy // apocalypse!au, zombie apocalypse!au, strangers to lovers!au, soulmate!au, parallel world!au ☍ word count; 4, 210  ☍ summary; you have your very own dream boy, a literal man of your dreams and he goes by the name of Kim Doyoung ☍ a/n;  don’t be fooled by the beginning, 99.9% of this is just dialogue. also I tried my very best to avoid using the word zombies to describe the people who were affected by the virus because...yeah it has something to do with the characters mindset but i didn’t get to explore that because I wanted to focus on the romance lmao ANYWAYS PLEASE ENJOY AND FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED since this is my first ever apocalypse!au and longest fic (in general and for doyoung)

trigger warning(s); mentions of weapons, use of weapons (doyoung uses a machete, mc also uses a weapon to kill the zombies), mention of blood 

This has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. 

“Hey!” you screamed, banging together two pots. 

The growling behind you started to multiply. 

You smirked, continuing to clash up more noise, “C’mere!” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw two rotted figures make their way towards you. The adrenaline in your veins pushed your legs to move faster. You heard the growling behind you grow louder, more shuffling of feet syncopated between your own. Out of either confidence or pure insanity―quite possibly both―you turned around to admire the hoard of creatures that you managed to gather.   

Disgust swirled in your stomach. They were ugly with skin so pale that you could see the infected black veins running through their body. They snapped at you with rotted teeth, blistered lips and blood-shot eyes. 

You laughed. “You’re so slow.”

Those vicious, viscera eating monsters didn’t seem to like your taunt. With inhumane twists of their bodies, they started to sprint towards you. This was, without a doubt, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Still, you shouted at them and banged your pots. Your pace was already outmatched by theirs, but it didn’t help that you were walking backwards. 

“Just a little closer, I know you can do it!” you cheered. 

By now, more monsters have noticed the ruckus that you’ve caused and they decided they wanted to join in on the fun. That’s when you decided to continue running. You could hear their growls growing closer and closer. For a split second, there was a single drop of fear that touched your spine, or rather, a finger. Acting on instinct, you slammed the pan into the head of the intruder. 

You were done for. They were catching up to you. 

And yet, you kept running, faster than you’ve ever ran. Despite the fact that any one of the, probably, hundreds of virus-infected bodies were one step away from tearing you limb from limb, you laughed. 

This was it. This was the end. 

This was where you die.

The maniacal smirk on your face never ceased. You didn’t know how long you’d be able to run for, but you kept going. At least, you tried to until you were suddenly slammed by a body quite larger than your own. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, the buildings behind you a blur until you were pulled into an abandoned convenience store. 

“Are you insane?” the stranger scowled. 

One second, two, three before you gathered up your wits. 

“Let go of me,” you shouted, pushing off the stranger, “and yeah, I am.”

You aimed your gun at the stranger who held his arms up in surrender. 

“A thank you would be nice,” he frowned. 

The tall man was dressed in tattered jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. Around his wrists were newspapers bound by masking tape. He was covered in blood, dirt and grime; chapped lips and sharp eyes; black hair nestled messily on top of his head. Aside from all the cuts and bruises, you would deem him handsome. Although, that’s not of importance right now. 

“What would I be thanking you for?” 

“For saving you,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I didn’t need saving.”

He scoffed, “You were about to die.” 

“I’m already dead,” you muttered, “we all are.”

The stranger raised his brows, “Is that so?”

“There’s nothing to live for,” you replied.

He stared you in the eyes. “Then go back out there. Go say hello to your fanclub.”

A brief staredown occurred, his gaze challenging your own. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t walk back out there. At that moment, you wanted to see how close you could get to Death, but when it really came down to it, you didn’t want to die, not to those things anyways, and―as much as you’d like to say otherwise―most definitely not now.  You were on the brink of insanity, yes, but you weren’t completely diving in head first. You also knew that deep-down, you’re relieved that he saved you. 

And he knew that too. 

“Don’t move!” you shouted when he started to lower his arms.

He paused and looked over to the counter, “I’m just reaching for the candy.”

You eyed the counter where a bag of food laid and followed his movements closely as he reached for the opened bag of gummy bears on the counter.

“You’re human, just like me. We’re not like those...beasts out there, but if you really want to become like them, then go ahead.” He reached for the backpack lying on the floor by the counter and slung it over his back, “I already tried saving you once, though your actions aren’t in my controls.” 

He opened the back door of the grocery store and left. 

Your shoulders finally relaxed. You lowered your gun, then glanced out the window at the horde of monsters that roamed around aimlessly looking for the meal that had escaped them. Those soulless creatures were easy to read, easy to know what their intentions were. You turned back to the door where the stranger walked through. Who knows what his intentions were?

Yet, you decided to follow him.

For a block or two you followed him, watching as he slashed through the creatures with his machete. Occasionally, you too, killed the monsters that made their way towards you. Eventually, he entered a building and climbed all the way to the roof. 

You found him sitting at the edge, feet dangling as he stared ahead. His weapon lay next to him and his previous bag of opened gummy bears sat in his hand. You joined him by the edge, and this might be even stupider than attracting a mob of bloodthirsty fiends. 

Rather than shoving you off, he offered you some gummy bears which you accepted. He didn’t turn to look at you once. In silence, the two of you observed the abandoned city in front of you. Rubbled buildings weakly stood, streets filled with crashed cars, various monsters (who were once human) lingered on the sidewalks. The prettiest of all the ruins was the sky. A toxic mix of orange hues. Shapes of clouds filled the sky, providing no rain and no shade. The Sun was half over the horizon. It sent out constant waves of warmth. 

“I’m Doyoung,” he whispered, as if it were sacred to share his name. He turned to you, eyes vulnerable, a soft brown like the fresh soil used to plant a flower, “Kim Doyoung.”

You gasped out your name as you woke up. 

You sat up in your bed, dazed from the dream. Or, was it a dream? Panic slowly tickled your spine and you immediately turned on the news, phone dialing with numbers of your loved ones. 

After constant reassurances from your friends and family, you slumped on the couch. It was all just a dream. It was just a dream! You shook your head and went to wash your face in the bathroom. It was just a dream. A dream that you vividly remember. 

A dream with Kim Doyoung.

-

For the next few months―each month―you had one overly vivid dream that included Kim Doyoung and the apocalyptic, orange skied world. It mostly consisted of the two of you running around in empty fields, abandoned cities and hacking away at monsters. In many ways, it was you and Doyoung against the world. 

“Any updates on dream boy?” Kara, your best friend, smiled, sitting at the bar-counter of the diner you worked at. 

You placed her usual order of coffee in front of her. “You’re still calling him that?”

“Well, isn’t he?” she shrugged.

“Yeah…”

She smiled, “Any updates?”

Your heart thumped slightly at the question, the memory of the dream you had this morning resurfacing. 

The squelch of flesh echoed against the walls of the room as you and Doyoung explored the bakery. 

“Believe it or not, I was a baker,” he shared, slashing at a crazed waitress

“A baker?” you asked, raising your brows, quickly opening the door to the kitchen area. Running towards you was a murderous customer who, you assumed, didn’t receive the food they wanted. After taking care of the virused creature, you frowned at the disemboweled chef on the floor, “Should we bake in this kitchen?” 

“Do you want to?”

“Not with this on the floor,” you mumbled with a pout, “I thought we finally found a place!”

He shrugged, “Let’s just move the body.”

Together, the two of you, while trying not to gag, dragged away all the dead bodies in the kitchen and tossed them out. After another check around the bakery, the two of you barricaded the windows and doors, also checking through them to make sure no more rotted mouths were running towards you. 

Once all safety precautions were taken care of, Doyoung took out a container of sanitary wipes.

You snorted, “Are you really going to clean?”

“I told you, I was a baker, and in order to cook or bake, you need a clean area.”

You didn’t say anything, only smiling in amusement as he started to wipe the counter. 

“Aren’t you going to help me?” he asked.

Your smile turned upside down as you saw the dusty counter, bloodied floors and molded dishes. “Do I have to?” 

Doyoung threw the container of sanitary wipes at you. You caught it with a grumble. After a good three hours, the kitchen was finally clean enough for Doyoung’s standards. 

“I can’t believe you wanted to clean on your birthday. We could’ve just grabbed one of the pastries or gotten a cake from another place,” you sighed. 

“Well, if we did that, then you wouldn’t make me a cake.”

“Aren’t you the baker?” You countered. 

“Yep!” he leaned against the counter, “but you’re the one who promised to make me a cake.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, dragging your feet as you made your way over to the pantry. 

Somehow, you managed to follow the recipe that you tore from a cookbook and not burn down the entire building. You grabbed the cake from the counter, “Let’s hope you enjoy this, Mr. I’m-a-baker-so-I’m-going-to-give-your-novice-attempt-at-a-cake-a-rating-out-of-ten.” 

“Just an FYI, I had my own bakery,” he proudly added.

“Showing off now, I see,” you chuckled, placing a one tier cake with a very messily and unnecessarily large ‘Happy Birthday Doyou’ written on it. “I ran out of space for your name,” you explained as you added a candle, “but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“2 points off,” Doyoung called out, “didn’t complete your decorations, y/n? Not good.”

“No mercy, huh?” you tsked, lighting up the candle, “not even one point for the effort?”

He shrugged. 

“Guess I’ll just have to impress you with my singing skills,” you sighed. 

Doyoung watched with amused eyes, “You can try.”

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Arden- ” 

“Minus another two points.” 

Your jaw dropped, “What, I totally was hitting that high note!”

Doyoung shook his head, “First off, no. Secondly, who even is Arden.”

“Don’t know, maybe it was a classmate of mine whose birthday just happens to be today,” you shrugged. 

He raised a brow.

”Look, I just wanted to say a random name other than yours.” 

“Another point off.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Insulting the judge,” he shook his head, holding back a smile, “another point.”

“Doyoung!” you whined.

He laughed, “Okay, okay. I’ll give back two points if it tastes good.”

“Four if it blows you away,” you bargained.

“Deal.” 

Although you watched with a confident smile, your heart pumped nervously in your chest. You weren’t the best cook, nor baker, so you knew that there was a chance that the cake wouldn’t taste that good. And you were right. 

Doyoung’s face twisted into a sour expression. 

“It’s…”

“Just say it,” you sighed, “don’t hold back.”

“Horrible.”

You sighed and sat down next to him. You took a piece of the cake to taste. Upon the abomination you called a cake landed on your tastebuds, you realized that you deserved a final rating of -54325/10. 

“This tastes like…very salty sand,” you gagged, “did I forget the sugar or something?”

Doyoung got up from his seat and analyzed your ingredients. “My love, I think you did.” He then placed the bag of what you thought was sugar in front of you. 

“It’s salt?!”

Needless to say, Doyoung saved his own birthday cake by making one himself. You insisted that you should help which, reflecting back on it, you weren’t sure was a good idea or not. Multiple times, you got distracted by the way the dim lights of the kitchen seemed to highlight his face, or the way it felt too comfortable with his hand over yours when he would teach you how to do something. It left your stomach flipping, palms a little sweaty, and your heart ready to burst out of your chest. 

“And it’s done!” he smiled, finding the last flower decoration on the cake. 

It was clear who decorated what. 

All the orderly placed strawberries, raspberries and blackberries, along with the prettily swirled flowers and legible font were obviously Doyoung’s expertise whereas the little random patches of unevenly placed blueberries and poorly attempted flowers that ended up looking like dots were your humbly added touches. 

“Wait, I want to add one last thing,” you told him.

You took the piping bag full of royal icing from him and started to shakily draw on the corner of the cake. 

“Is that...a bunny?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you concentrated, “Yep.”

“Why a bunny?”

“You look like a bunny when you smile,” you nonchalantly confessed.

Doyoung didn’t say anything.

“Alright!” you smiled, proud of the animal that you drew. You turned to Doyoung who you were surprised to see already looking at you. “Doyoung?”

He looked towards the cake and cleared his throat, “You uhm, you ready to sing?”

“I thought we were just going to eat it?” 

“Oh…”

“Well, I mean, unless you want to hear my amazing vocal-”

“Let’s just eat,” he grimaced.

You laughed, taking a knife and slicing a piece. You offered for him to take the first bite. 

“No, no, you taste it.”

“You’re the birthday boy,” you countered.

“And as the birthday boy, I want you to take the first bite.”

You frowned, “Pulled that one on me, huh?”

He only gave you the bunny smile that made your knees weak. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, taking a bite of the cake. It tasted a thousand times better than the cake that you made. “Oh my- This is really good! You need to try it.”

You didn’t get a chance to fully give Doyoung a piece of cake because he gently cupped your jaw, turning your chin to face him. 

“I think I’ll try it now.”

Before you could respond, he kissed you. It was quick, unexpected on both sides of the party. That didn’t stop him from kissing you a second time though. This time, it was less hesitant and a little longer. He pulled away, yet again. 

The two of you took time staring into each other’s eyes. His thumb rubbed against your cheek. 

“You’re absolutely breath-taking,” he confessed.

You smiled, “Doyoung…”

“Completely stunning,” he whispered, leaning closer. 

Your eyes started fluttering close as you muttered his name.

“Yeah?” 

“Kiss me.”

Kara’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with mischief, “Oooo someone did have a dream.”

Your face felt hot. 

“Someone had a dream?” Felix asked curiously. He took the seat next to Kara and placed a plate full of waffles in between the three of you. 

Kara stuffed a piece in her mouth, “Dream boy strikesh ahjain.”

“What?” you mused.

She swallowed her food. “I said, dream boy strikes again,” Kara smiled, “perhaps, a little something happened?”

“Maybe a little something.”

“Like…” Felix trailed off. 

“Like… a kiss.” 

“You kissed him?!” your friends both exclaimed. 

Luckily, at the early hour of 6 in the morning, the diner was always empty except for the three of you. You rolled your eyes. “So what, we kissed,” you shrugged, “it’s just a dream.”

“Y/N,” Felix sighed in an exasperated tone, “it’s not just any dream-”

“It’s a dream with your dream boy!” Kara finished. 

“He could be your soulmate!” Felix gasped, “What if he’s having dreams like this too!”

“C’mon,” you gave your best friend a look of disbelief, “he’s not even real.”

“You don’t know that,” Kara told you, “there are people out there named Kim Doyoung.”

Felix tilted his head and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “You know, his name does sound pretty familiar.”  

You shook your head, “You guys are crazy.”

They continued to converse about people named Doyoung and possible suitors for you which you ignored and, instead, focused on continuing to wipe down the counter. The door to the diner then jingled as a customer stepped in. 

“Welcome in!” you greeted, still not looking up from the counter. Not hearing a response from the customer, you looked up. The rag in your hand dropped onto the counter. At your reaction, your friends stopped talking. 

Doyoung.

The man dressed in all black that stood at the door, smiled slightly, “Hello.” 

You felt the eyes of your friends. 

Clearing your throat, you nodded, “Oh uh, hi. Sit where you want.”

He nodded before making his way towards a corner table. 

“Looks like someone likes-” Kara started, but you interrupted her. 

“It’s him,” you told them quietly. 

“He’s the man of your-” they both exclaimed.

“Shut up!” you hissed before they could finish their sentence. 

They both glanced over at the man looking out the window before turning back to you with wide grins.

“He’s the man of your dreams?” they both asked excitedly.

“You two are unbelievable,” you mumbled, taking a menu and walking over to the man.

“Here’s your menu. My name is y/n, I’ll be serving you today. Just let me know when you’re ready to order,” you smiled. 

When Doyoung, or the man that looked like Doyoung, heard your name, you could’ve sworn that his eyes widened slightly, but you shook off the thought and left when he mutely nodded his head at you. 

“It’s dream boy,” Kara immediately said once you returned back to the counter. 

You shook your head in disbelief, looking over at him before back to Kara. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” Felix quietly whispered.

“Just because it looks like him doesn’t mean it is him! He’s just a dream,” you nodded over at Doyoung, “that guy, he’s real.”

While you bickered quietly with your friends, Doyoung spared another glance your way. It was odd seeing you in normal clothing, ones that weren’t tattered or bloodied. You weren’t holding your usual weapon, and you most definitely weren’t bashing heads. Though, he couldn’t help but admire you in the same way he had in his dreams. 

“Completely stunning,” he mumbled. 

When you dropped the rag, he was sure that you recognized him; recognized him as the Kim Doyoung from NCT. When your friends kept whispering and looking back at him, he knew that, not only you, but also your friends knew who he was. Doyoung turned back to the menu.

He doubted you knew had the same dreams as him. He did feel a bit awkward considering the fact that he dreamt of kissing you without knowing that you were an actual person. Maybe he should leave? After all, he was hoping to come to this diner because it was relatively empty, and he just hoped that the people in here wouldn’t know him. 

He glanced once more over to the counter where your friends quickly turned their gaze away from him. 

“Guys, he’s looking over here,” you muttered, “you’re making him feel uncomfortable.”

“You’re right,” Felix mumbled, “we can’t destroy your chances at dating dream boy.”

Kara nodded, “Yes, we’ll leave.”

“What?” you exclaimed, a bit louder than intended. Lowering your voice, you sent a panicked glance at your friends who were packing up, “Where are you going?”

“Well, I have to go to work now,” Kara sighed loudly, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “I’m going to get going.”

Felix followed Kara’s lead and stood up, “Yeah, I have to go walk my cat.”

Before you could process that Felix doesn’t have a cat, they were out the door, leaving you alone, in the diner, at approximately 6:37 AM with a boy that―just this morning―you dreamt of kissing. Your face felt heated again. 

Shaking your head, you looked over at Doyoung who was analyzing the menu. 

For the first time, you could clearly see him. His hair matched the color of his black long-sleeve turtleneck that was tucked into some black jeans. No blood, no dirt, no machete, just him. Just him and the highlight of the Sun on his cheeks. That reminded you of the dream you had and you shook away the daze, turning your attention to the very interesting tile of the counter that looked like it needed some serious scrubbing (not really). 

“I’m ready to order,” Doyoung softly called out. 

You quickly walked over to him, jotted down his order, then ran away to hide in the kitchen. Your body worked on auto-pilot as you prepared his meal. With his drink and food in hand, you started to walk back towards his table. Doyoung was staring out the window and he was humming. 

As you got closer, you realized that you knew that song. 

“Do you remember what the stars looked like?”

In the middle of an empty grass field, you laid with Doyoung. Your head was rested on his chest, and you felt his voice vibrate throughout his chest. 

“Yeah,” you told him, “they look like your eyes.”

You could feel Doyoung roll his eyes, “I’m serious.”

“So am I!”

He chuckled and brushed his fingers through your hair. “Did you ever stare at the stars and see everything you wanted? Did you ever see your ambitions? Your achievements?”

“Getting deep here, aren’t we?”

Doyoung sat up, “Have you?”

You stared at him for a moment before turning to the endless orange sky. The Sun never seemed to move from its place over the horizon. 

“Yeah, I have.”

A pause of silence. 

“When I looked up at the stars, I saw my future. I saw the plans I had, the answers to my problems, I saw hope. However...” you smiled sadly at the orange hues, “they all went up in flames.”

Doyoung placed his hand on yours. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get that deep,” you crookedly smiled, but Doyoung only pulled you into a hug. And the two of you stayed like that for a while. 

“What did you see?” you asked when the two of you were back to laying on the floor. 

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Me on stage, singing.”

“Singing?”

He sighed, “Yep. It was nothing more than a hobby, but my grandmother would tell me that I was a singer in some other life. She told me that if I looked at the stars, they would show me.” 

You chuckled, “Kim Doyoung, a singer.”

“I’m sharing a heart-touching story and you’re laughing.”

“Sorry,” you gave his knuckle a kiss, “it’s my coping mechanism.”

He intertwined his hand with yours, “I’m just kidding, but is seeing me as a singer that funny?”

You shrugged, “A bit hard to believe.”

“Really?” he asked, sitting up, untangling your hands.

“A little,” you admitted. 

He stood up and lent you a hand. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, taking his offer. 

The two of you were back to traversing through empty fields and abandoned streets (fighting zombies along the way) until you stopped in front of a music store. Ripped posters hung from the window, a broken open sign dangled from the door, and a few savage creatures were lingering inside. Using the power of teamwork, you and Doyoung were finally able to do what you pleased.

“So why’d you bring me here?”

He sat a keyboard, “I’m going to play for you.”

“Doyoung, that’s going to attract a lot of noise,” you peeked through the boarded windows, “is this really a good idea?”

“Aren’t you five kills behind me?” Doyoung asked.

The competitive side of you perked at the mention of your kill counter. You were reminded of the little daily game that you and Doyoung decided to play. It was simply just to see who could kill the most virus-infected barbarians you could in a day. 

But, your smarter side still worried about safety. 

“I’ll sing you two lines,” he told you, “just two lines.”

“Fine,” you sighed.

“This is an original, by the way.”

“Wow, an original song,” you teased, “just for me.”

He winked, “Of course.”

“What’s it called?”

“Lost Souls,” you mumbled, “the song is called Lost Souls.”

“You’re actually my dream boy,” you blurted.

“What?” 

You awkwardly placed his food down on the table, along with his drink, “Uhm-”

Outside the window behind him, you could’ve sworn you saw the setting change and a creature run head first into the window. You gasped as Doyoung quickly turned towards the noise. “The apocalypse,” he mumbled. 

Slowly, the blue sky started to change. “Orange skies,” you announced.  

The tables were rusted, chairs torn, walls peeling. “Empty buildings,” he added. 

Doyoung turned to face you, the same warm eyes as in your dreams staring right into your own. A certain dream resurfaced. 

You looked at the familiar looking convenience store, “Is this the building where we met?”

Doyoung didn’t answer you, only saying, “I hope you like watermelon ring pops.”

“What?” you laughed, watching as he reappeared from between the aisles.

He stood in front of you, unwrapping the watermelon ring pop. He then bent down on one knee. 

“Just you and I?” he asked.

“Against the world.”

[lilflowerpot]

Soulmate AU where the marks on one person's skin show up on the other, but obviously they can't understand each other's writing, so Keith mostly just tries to express himself through art instead. So naturally, when he starts investigating the Blue Lion he starts drawing THAT too. Which is why, when Voltron shows up, Lotor is Dead Certain that the blue paladin is his soulmate, and he desperately tries to force himself to fall in love with Lance even while he's like "... Really? THIS guy?"

Lotor’s soulmate is not illiterate, but they may as well be. He’s compared their careless scrawl against every language in the Imperial data banks - thrice! - and it’s simply... not there.

“They’re a primitive,” Ezor nods sagely from where she’s half draped over his shoulder, eyeing the illegible lettering on his wrist with an entertained curl to her lips, “must be. Guess the universe wanted to counterbalance all your insufferable braininess.”

When Lotor shrugs her off with a snarl, she has the audacity to laugh.

Acxa’s kinder, or she tries to be, comforting him with the notion that if his soulmate is a primitive, they’re at the very least an educated one, or better yet of a more evolved society wherein knowledge of scripture is commonplace, so... they’re not feral.

Zethrid seems to half wish that they were, if only for the thrill of it.

“And the sex,” Ezor tacks on with an evil little grin, “the sex would have been fantastic.”

Her soulmate’s raucous glee drowns out any further discussion of the topic.

-

So they can’t communicate, not with words, but if Lotor’s soulmate is anything it’s tenacious (and the Prince can’t help but admire that). They come to the conclusion that pictures are the way to go, painting Lotor’s forearms with a veritable rainbow of quadrilaterals, each containing varying stripes and symbols, and then a series of dotted squiggles that Lotor is beginning to recognise as their approximation of a question.

The problem being he doesn’t actually know what it is that they’re asking.

There’s one rectangle - the majority of which is striped red and white, with a one contrasting quarter of stars in a blue sky - that his soulmate keeps coming back to, and Lotor realises it must be a clan symbol of a sort, indicative of their own people and culture, but... once again scouring Imperial logs turns up nothing of import. Frustrated, Lotor practically carves the hateful Imperial emblem into his palm with jagged lines of ink - Vrepit Sa - and turns in for the night.

In the morning, his arms are wiped clean.

They stay that way for a quintent.

Two.

On the third, he hears back, and it rocks his entire world view.

Kraliept Sa.

The lines are careful, deliberate, as if someone unfamiliar with the old scripture had taken great pains to transcribe that singular character, and Lotor quite simply can’t believe his eyes, because that would mean... that would mean that the only two things he knows of his soulmate are in direct contrast with one another: the first being that they are completely isolated from the Empire, and the second more impossible yet, that they have ties to the Blade of Marmora.

-

They continue this way for almost a decaphoeb, and it’s not perfect, but it’s something.

Lotor sends renderings of the stars, his ship, Kova, and in return his soulmate replies with sketches of the animals and sunsets and vast expanses of desert on an alien world.

One evening, they blur blues and greens into a perfect little marble on the inside of Lotor’s knee, an arrow pointing to one of the green patches labeled with a sequence of characters that the galra Prince is beginning to recognise as his soulmate’s name - though he can’t so much as begin to guess at how they might be pronounced - and so on the opposite knee Lotor paints Daibazaal, and then, because that feels inadequate, smears his thumb through the centre of the planet he no longer calls home, doodling a battalion of ships leaving the wreckage in a mass exodus, the children of an orphaned world.

And once more, his soulmate falls quiet.

-

It’s almost a full phoeb until they reach out again, and when they do Lotor finds them franctic, frightened, their little blue-green marble only the beginning; an entire solar system follows, complete with details such as what Lotor assumes must be an accurate number of moons on each planet for how deliberately they’re marked out, and then-

A ship.

It’s small and unassuming and positively archaic in design, but it’s a ship nonetheless, and as Lotor watches, his soulmate draws and erases and re-draws that same design until it’s traveled the length of his leg - thigh to ankle - and ‘lands’ on an unassuming moon of the most distant planet. They circle it with agitation, jabbing whatever implement they’re using to mark their own skin so violently that Lotor’s quite sure they must bleed under the force of it, but he doesn’t know what to say, let alone know how to say it if he did.

The next morning, his soulmate’s mural has gone.

The phantom ache of it remains.

-

They call him Champion.

Lotor only takes interest because of the timing, because of the circumstance, because it’s Sendak’s fleet that located these new lifeforms on a desolate moon in some distant corner of the universe, and of all Zarkon’s commanders he most of all has something of a reputation for toeing the line between cruelty and outright sadism.

The odds are one in a million, but that’s not a risk Lotor is willing to take.

He paints an obnoxious criss-cross of colour onto his own face that will be impossible to hide or mistake for anything other than what it is, and sends his generals to ascertain whether the Champion or either of the two lifeforms that accompanied him - soon to be subject to the work camps - share the mark.

They don’t, not one of them, and so Lotor chalks it up to coincidence and moves on.

Finding what could almost be mistaken for the legendary Blue Lion on the back of his hand only for Voltron proper to re-emerge into the universe after thousands of decaphoebs with the Champion himself allegedly at the helm, is not so easily written off.

And this time, when his soulmate abandons him to cold silence, it feels final.

-

Thayserix was very much a spur of the moment decision, but Lotor has never been so glad of such impulsivity as he is now, with the blue Lion of Voltron having been stolen from the thick mists and safely in his grasp.

Though, it’s not the lion that interests him.

Yes she’s a beautiful beast of considerable power, but in this case it is quite literally what’s on the inside that counts, that being of course Lotor’s soulmate... or so he’d thought.

Princess Allura of Altea cannot be them.

At least he certainly hopes not.

She’s lovely, in theory, but they’ve been in a stalemate for the past varga with her sullenly refusing to so much as consider entertaining Lotor’s attempts at hospitality, let alone conversation, and instead quite stubbornly standing with both her guard and weapon raised.

“I really would simply like to speak with-”

“Release me.”

Her end of things has consisted solely of those two words, and the monotony of it all really is growing rather tiresome.

Narti saves him from another repetitive bout, slinking into his mind and whispering that the rest of Voltron have located them far more quickly than Lotor would have thought possible.

The worst part is he’s almost grateful.

“Very well,” he growls, temper wearing thin, “your friends are here to collect you Princess, perhaps they will be more amenable to a little tête-à-tête, hm?”

They are not.

“Release Allura,” is the first thing to pass the dark-haired Paladin’s lips, teeth bared and tongue sharp, and it takes everything Lotor is not to simply concede on the spot.

“Frankly, I would love to,” he spits, gratified by how completely this blindsides the lot of them, every face on the holoscreen struck blank by his immediate compliance. “I do not believe she is the individual I am looking for, nor does she seem inclined to assist me in locating whosoever is. Answer my questions, and you are welcome to her and the blue Lion both.”

“We... We are?” It’s an older gentleman who speaks up, the only other altean among them.

“Absolutely,” Lotor hisses, and then graciously concedes: “the mistake was mine. I simply wished to open a dialogue with who I had assumed to be the blue Paladin, but as she is of a background that would doubtless have allowed us to communicate in galra script, that no longer seems the case.”

Their group look like they’re going to ask him to further explain what must sound to the lot of them nonsense... all except the black Paladin whose eyes have gone wide on some personal revelation, whispering “you,” as if he can’t believe his ears, only to spit out an obscenity before repeating himself with all the fury of an imploding star. “You!”

There are several exclamations of “Keith-!” as those violet eyes narrow to slits, the man smacking his hand down and cutting their com-line dead.

Ezor, helpful as ever, mumbles: “Well that went well,” quiet enough that it’s almost as if she doesn’t mean for everyone in the otherwise silent cockpit to hear her.

-

For the first time in ten thousand decaphoebs, the black Lion is - technically - in Imperial hands.

Lotor couldn’t care less.

The man who strides out of her is a veritable firestorm, all dark brows and snarling lips, and in a heartbeat Lotor knows, he just knows, who he is.

What he is.

Galra, for one, almost certainly a hybrid like Lotor - it’s the eyes that betray him, half luminescent with rage - and there’s a gorgeous poeticism to that.

Reckless for another, and behind him from where she’s been brought to stand witness, Princess Allura is clearly horrified to see her companion step from Voltron’s keystone and leave it completely unprotected, but the Paladin doesn’t seem to care, and neither does Lotor.

“Release Allura,” he growls again, voice like thunder and just as electrifying as he storms across the landing bay without hesitation, not even stopping to glance in his fellow Paladin’s direction and affirm that Zethrid has, in fact, released her as instructed.

No, Lotor’s soulmate simply fists pale fingers into paler hair and hisses, “fuck you,” into his mouth before kissing the Prince senseless.

-

Later - much, much later - Lotor is pleased to report back to Ezor that the sex is, in fact, fantastic.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Locked and Reloaded [Ch. 5]

Marvel AU

TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood, Gun Violence, Implied Abusive Household

Genre: Action, Light Comedy, Angst

Pairing: NCT Dream x Reader

YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her)

(5/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[Main Masterlist] | [Locked and Reloaded Masterlist]

Word Count: 6.5K

Notes: It’s about time these members entered the story. I’m dropping this now instead of a Saturday upload because I’m getting my second dose of vaccine in about nine hours, and from how both of my parents reacted something tells me that I’m going to be incapacitated for the next two days, so I decided to finish this bad boy up now! Currently next on my list to work on is Infatuation, so I’ll see you in that update!

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in or condone these actions. I would never wish any of these actions to occur to the Idol(s) mentioned in the writings of these stories, nor do I wish any harm on them.

“That’s stupid,” you told your older brother. Baekhyun just laughed. You had just finished ranting to him how a majority of the premise of chemistry was ridiculous, being founded on one key theory that could be amended at any moment, something now set in stone or put to law. It was a theoretical science that clashed with the lawfulness of physics and the puzzle of biology. “Chemistry is literally the weakest link.”

“I don’t quite think so, songbird,” the nickname was sweet in his voice, it was one you had had for as long as you could remember. He leans against your desk and he points at the picture. “It’s just atomic theory.”

“Yeah, and it’s stupid. Imagine, all of this work, all seven hundred of these pages and countless other books could get proved incorrect if someone disproves it.”

“You read this entire textbook and that’s all you have to say about it?” Baekhyun raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Wah, you’re so amazing and you don’t even know it,” he hugged your head to his stomach and you pushed him away.

“Ew, you’re so gross,” you wiped the sweat from your face. “At least shower before coming into my room! You’re disgusting when you use the gym.”

“And miss my darling sister? No way, that and I came to congratulate you!” He points at the certificate on your desk just under your coffee mug. “Not every day you win the science fair… again.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” you put a textbook over it. He was right, but it was hardly an achievement for you at this point, it was an expectation.

“What did you do this year?” None of them even showed up, the only person there to help you with your project was Jeno, but he was always there whether you liked it or not.

“You don’t know?”

“I was at the conference, remember?”

“Oh, right,” you sighed. “It was just an observation on bees.”

“Whoa! Bees are great! They’re so helpful for pollination, for honey, and so much more!” Baekhyun smiles. “Hey, your birthday’s coming up, right? Fourteen? Oh god, oh no, my songbird? A teen? I don’t think I can handle this.”

“You’re overreacting! It’s not like I’m going to be any different. Plus, I’m already a teen.”

“Oh, (Y/N), you have no idea. Thirteen is the one year free trial before you start having to pay to be a teen. Once you turn fourteen, ugh, I don’t even know how to say this,” Baekhyun fake cries and wipes away the invisible tears. “It’ll be like you’re a whole different person.”

“Stop that! Why are you acting so weird?” You laughed and turned to him. Baekhyun crossed his arms over his chest and your smile dropped. You knew that look on his face better than anyone. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I leave tonight,” he says.

“How long?”

“Maybe a week this time, dad wants to show me the properties over in Zone 8.”

“Seriously? What for?” The factories that far out from the city were nearly ghost factories, they just handled building the smaller removable parts of the weapons your father developed. You couldn’t think of a possible reason why Baekhyun would have to go out that far.

“I have no clue, maybe he just wants me to see the Byun system at a smaller scale,” Baekhyun sighs. “Will you be okay here?”

“Will I be okay here? Don’t make me laugh,” you slammed your textbook shut and stared at him. “She hates me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“She does! You’ve seen the way she talks to me when you’re not around, Baek, I genuinely think that woman wants to get rid of me.”

“She’s your mother.”

“No, she’s your mother.” You didn’t mean for it to come out as accusing as it did. But you could genuinely say that you never felt anything from her aside from the obvious disdain she must have held for you. But what could you do? You’d hate you too. If one day your husband showed up at your doorstep with a kid you didn’t recognize telling you to treat her as if she was your own, you’d despise that child’s existence. All you were was proof of infidelity, and your stepmother made that very clear. You were her daughter on paper alone, but in reality, you were nothing more than a freeloader. “I’m just the bastard kid from dad’s mistress.”

“Do not,” Baekhyun held a finger up and stared at you with an intensity you’ve never seen on his face before. Seriousness wasn’t something that Baekhyun often used, especially around you. “Do not ever reduce yourself to that. Do you understand? You are so much more than that and you can’t let anyone who says that to you bring you down, you cannot let that weigh on you. Who even told you that?”

“She did. Who else?”

“God…” Baekhyun looked away and huffed. He held his hand to his forehead and sighed. “Keep in touch with me, okay? Just one more year and I can take it to court.”

“Forget it, Baek,” you waved your hand. “It would never work. We have no proof.”

“Well,” Baekhyun pressed his lips together and placed a tape in front of you.

“A tape? Seriously?”

“Don’t hate on old tech, they’re still around for a reason. I have a walkman in my room, second drawer on my desk. Listen to it later, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you placed the tape in your own drawer, out of sight and out of mind.

“Just wait for me, alright?”

“Yeah.”

“(Y/N), I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay, just go, dad’s probably waiting for you,” you opened your textbook again and stared at the passages on it. You had a really bad feeling about tonight, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

“Love you, songbird.”

“I know.”

~

“Sungchan! Four o’clock!” You shouted towards the agent. Sungchan, moving a second too late was met with the spine of a book to his face, promptly knocking him out. “Aw, geez,” you shoved your bag under a table, hoping that it would be somewhat okay after the fight, and threw a metal tray, the circular object blocking one of the flying weapons from hitting Shotaro on his way to Sungchan.

“Thank you!” He shouts. He leans next to his best friend and tries to wake him up while the fight continued.

“I’ll try to keep you guys covered, but you might need to fill in for me eventually, Reaper’s not doing too good over there,” you stumbled over to the two and handed Shotaro one of the pillows from the couch. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, just knocked out, but I have to watch him just in case… you know.”

“I do, just make sure he’s fine.”

With Jeno’s sudden appearance the Sanctum became a new battleground. Ancient artifacts were being used left and right for battle, whether they were used correctly or not, and with incoherent shouts filling the previously calm room. Strange was doing his best to prevent anything potentially world-threatening from happening, the Sorcerer Supreme understanding the laws of the universe, as well as any of you did, while the Maverick worked to bring down Vulture. The surprise attack rendered them at an unfortunate disadvantage. Strange was more concerned with keeping the battle within the Sanctum than he was helping any of you out, which was entirely understandable.

“I got it!” Peter shoved back the bookcase that was about to fall on you.

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Just so you know I am so sorry I did not mean for any of this to happen I didn’t know.”

“Oh goodness, no hard feelings, Peter, it happens to the best of us,” you said to him. “There’s no way you could’ve known.”

“Thanks, (Y/N), that means a— Watch out!” He pushed you out of the way just as a shield lodged itself between you, you turned towards the source and saw Vulture, and you had to stop yourself from getting any more frustrated than you already are.

“Fucking hell,” you clapped your hands together and jogged in place. “Stretching before fights is good for you, Peter, don’t forget that,” you said to him. Then you saw Cap waving his hand. You pulled the shield from its spot and threw it back to him.

“Nice arm!”

“Don’t lose your shit!” You moved your head to the side just as a bullet whizzed past you. “And watch where you’re aiming!” You dodged another bullet as it ricocheted off of one of the metal artifacts of the Sanctum.

“I am,” Jaemin’s voice was steady despite the chaos. “Reaper!” Jaemin tossed one o the artifacts towards the other, particularly a sharp one, and Jeno drove it into the wall next to Vulture, just barely grazing the Follower. Vulture grabbed onto the back of Jeno’s neck, the razor claws on his hands emerging and sinking into the half-demon before Vulture slammed Jeno’s head through the wall.

“Urgh, I felt that,” you rubbed the back of your neck as the phantom pain shot through it. You quickly stepped back just as an eldritch whip snapped in front of you.

“Mr. Wong?!” Peter gasps.

“That one isn’t in our database,” Jaemin grabbed onto the whip as it went towards you again, ‘Wong’ staring at him with a slight confusion, to which Jaemin just tugged it away from the other’s hands, watching the concentrated energy dissipate.

“Well then add him later, dammit,” you charged towards Vulture but soon felt something wrap around your ankle. You looked at the portal next to your foot and the hand around it. “Ew! Oh my god!” You yanked it out of ‘Wong’s’ grasp and shot towards him, the bullets disappearing before they could get anywhere close. No wonder it was so fucking convenient, you hoped whoever the real Wong was and where he was currently wasn’t too horrible.

“We should name this guy,” Jaemin dodged the eldritch disk that nearly sliced his throat. “I’m thinking Frisbee.”

“Oh come on, let’s stay true to tradition and wait for Hyuck,” you pulled a sword from the suit of armor next to you and blocked the whip again. You turned the hilt in your hand and smiled. “Ooh, I like this. You know my ex used to be an expert fencer.”

“I almost forgot about that one,” Jaemin hums. “What’s with sleeping beauty over there?”

“Got hit in a face with a book.”

“Oh that’s good, one less bomb we have to worry about.”

“That’s rude,” you scolded him.

“Can someone help me over here?!” Jeno’s pissed off voice came from the office. He pushed himself up from the rubble and cracked his neck before his knuckles. “I’m going to kill this guy, fuck the Agreement.”

“Does the Agreement even apply this far out?” You asked. Jaemin pulled out his phone briefly. The Agreement was offered by the D98 Avengers, basically promising not to do any dimension altering things, but it was just a promise, nothing was set in stone and thus was lacking in any legality. It was a gentleman’s promise, so to say.

“Technically it doesn’t, D62 is far out of D98 bounds. And since none of the Avengers are here…” Jaemin let Jeno fill in the blanks himself.

“Good,” Jeno tapped his wrists together, a blood-red magic circle appearing between them.

“Wait, do you guys hear that?” You looked around while skillfully parrying evil Wong’s attacks.

“Hear what?” Shotaro was nursing the passed out Sungchan while blocking any projectiles that made their way towards him.

“It kind of sounds like screaming,” Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows.

“No, it sounds like… no, of all the members to send,” you groaned. Then the sound of doors crashing open accompanied the chaos that was the Sanctum while a familiar face ran in head first, literally, screaming his head off, and rams into Dr. Strange.

“I got this one, V! Don’t worry!” Chenle shouts.

“You idiot he’s on our side!” Jeno grabs a polearm from a nearby suit of armor and whacks it over Vulture’s head, the polearm breaking in half right after and really just pissing off the Follower more.

“Oh is he? Sorry!” Chenle detached himself from the sorcerer.

“Looks like we’ll be having a change in plans,” Strange murmured and disappeared from the room.

“Did the wizard just dip?!” You yelled.

“I think so!” Chenle yelled back, despite being right next to you.

“Why are you even here?!”

“We were talking to Fury when Jeno just fell into a sudden pool of blood! I followed your tracker here because I figured you’re in trouble. Be grateful!”

“I never said I wasn’t?!” You heard a pang next to you and turned to your side, a circular shield blocking your vision for only a brief moment before connecting with Other Wong’s abdomen.

“Thanks,” you nodded towards Steve.

“No problem,” he says. “But where’d that bullet come from?” Cap looks around the room. Jaemin rushes next to you and grabs something, pointing it upwards. Within a few moments, someone materializes next to him. A classic cloaking spell, of course, right when you needed it most.

“Monsieur,” her voice was hoarse.

“Lynx,” you saw him grimace while the woman drove a knife into Jaemin’s side and twisted it harshly. A loud groan left the man’s throat while you darted next to him and tackled the woman to the ground.

“I like your D62 version better!” You pressed your gun to her head and she threw you off before you could pull the trigger.

“Nat!?” Steve blocked another gunshot from her with his shield.

“Not Nat,” Bucky answers.

“Where have you been?”

“This thing’s still glowing,” Bucky held up the crystal.

“Give that to me!” Chenle appears next to them and grabs it. “You meaty idiots don’t know what to do with this.”

“Was that an insult?”

“Apperio!” Chenle ignored the Captain and chanted the charm, a magic circle appeared around the crystal. Following the ripple of two blue circles that expanded throughout the room, two more people appeared.

“There’s more of them?!” You shot Vulture in the leg. Before you were two other notorious members of the Elite. Arachnid, who you fought before, and Dead Shot, someone you were hoping not to run into in this dimension. “Someone get Parker out of here as soon as he touches Arachnid it’s over!” You shout.

“Oh please, I wouldn’t even try that. What good is this mission if any of us blow up the dimension while we’re at it,” Arachnid catches the flying dagger and flings it back towards Jaemin, who easily dodged it.

“We have orders to keep you alive, Vendetta, comply and the others will live,” Dead Shot spoke in his trademarked mechanical voice.

“Fuck that,” you pointed your gun at Arachnid and click. Click, click. “Well, this is awkward,” you chucked the magnum at Arachnid, the handle of the gun hitting the area between the mutant’s eyes and stunning him briefly, while Dead Shot released a flurry of bullets. You ran along the wall to dodge them, looking for something to shield yourself with now that Cap and Bucky were busy with Lynx, Jeno had Vulture busy, and Jaemin moved over to Arachnid so that Peter could handle Evil-Wong instead.

“Surrender or be forced to, Vendetta.”

“Well, shit,” you held a book in front of you while Dead Shot went through consecutive rounds.

“How could you not know a Follower was here?!” Jeno was pushed back next to you while deflecting Vulture’s attacks.

“How the hell was I supposed to know?! I didn’t even know that those three were here until a couple of minutes ago!”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“No, I’m not kidding you because if I was we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“It has been thirty minutes! I let you and Jaemin go for thirty minutes and this happens!”

“In our defense,” Jaemin gets pushed back to the other side of you and clears his throat. “Peter brought us here.”

“I said I’m sorry!” Peter brushes off the embers on his suit. “Aw man, how am I going to explain this to Mr. Stark?”

“Explain? Have you been reporting us to him?!” You asked.

“Uh… no,” Peter’s phone goes off and he answers it. “Hi, Mr. Stark, there’s kind of a situation going on right now—”

“Tell them not to come here! If any of the other Followers show up it could tear the fabric of reality apart!” Chenle shouts. A magic circle appears under Peter’s phone and it short circuits. Chenle adjusts the watch around his wrist, a much larger magic circle appearing from it.

“Vocavi te ab umbris,” at the utterance of the words the shadows in the room gathered together to a much larger amalgamate. “Go, Vendetta, I’ll keep them handled.”

“Fuck,” you spotted your backpack, which was pushed up against the wall on the other side of the room.

“What now?” Jeno asks.

“Backpack.”

“What about it?”

“There’s something really important in there,” Jaemin sounded disappointed. “We could hole-in-one it, V.”

“We could,” you said. “But that risks shaking it up too much.

“Hot potato then?” Jeno offers.

“Who would start it?”

“The closest person is Shotaro, if he throws it far enough I could probably catch it,” Jeno says. “Pass it over to Jaemin.”

“Then I’ll pass it to you. But by then you need to be in that hallway,” Jaemin says.

“Got it, I can do that.”

“And if anything goes wrong?”

“Wing it.”

“We’re going to die in this dimension, aren’t we?” Jeno frowns.

“On the count of three, break,” Jaemin says, ignoring his best friend’s words. You hand Jeno the old sword, which he took without question. “One.”

“What do I need this for?”

“Well, I certainly don’t need it.”

“Two.”

“Wait, are we even on the same page?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“Three!” Jaemin shoved you forward and you took off, dodging literally everything on your way to get out and probably get some more help.

“Shotaro! Pass me that backpack!” Jeno shouts over the gunshots. Shotaro perked up and grabbed the black bag, chucking it towards Jeno, who caught it easily. “Monsieur— Fuck, too far, Apollo! Pass this over to him!” Jeno tossed the backpack towards Chenle, the heavy bag slamming into the magician mid-spell.

“What the hell?!”

“Pass it here!” Jaemin knocked over Lynx and used her head the propel himself up and grab the backpack after Chenle threw it. He ran over towards you and threw it. Right as your hand grabbed the strap, it was yanked away from you.

“Fuck!” You looked back at who had it now, seeing your backpack in the hands of the last person who should have it. You were about the run over to him, but the bullet that landed too close for comfort reminded you that you had to leave now. “Arachnid has it!” You’d just have to put your trust into the three that were already here.

“Got it,” Jeno bashed his knee into Vulture’s head, finally incapacitating the Follower and switched targets. You turned around and ran into the hallway. You just had to call one of the other members to run over here with some extra materials. You hit the side of your phone, which only frizzed at the motion. Chenle must have jammed the signals to prevent more reinforcements from coming, great. You couldn’t run around forever, Dead Shot always hit his targets in the end, you continued down the hallway, not bothering to look back, but when you found yourself cornered against a hallway, you forced to figure out a solution. With the smell of smoke and the sounds of bullets hitting the ground— Wait a second. You looked down the hallway, bullets hitting metal and ricocheting towards you but never hitting any intended destination, there wasn’t even a bullet hole in sight, instead there were just empty shells on the ground. But in your analysis you failed to notice the stray bullet that was right in front of you. Then you saw someone’s closed fist in front of you.

“Did I get all of them?” He panted. He opened his hand and twelve bullets fell out of it.

“Oh my god, Mark, you’re just in time, I don’t remember you being this fast either,” you caught your breath and hugged the speedster, separating quickly. Mark pat down the smoke on his boots.

“I don’t think I’ve ever run that fast…” He stretches his back and kicks the bullet shells aside.

“How’d you even get here?”

“The sorcerer guy called Baekhyun and asked us to come right away. I had a feeling it wasn’t anything good so I came first, told them I’d scout the area. It’s a good thing I came, otherwise you’d look like Sponge-Bob…” He laughs awkwardly. “You’re at your quota, aren’t you?” He looks down at your feet. You followed his gaze and saw the rusted knife sticking out from it, then you noticed the bloody trail you left behind. You sighed and pulled the old thing out.

“Remind me to get a Tetanus shot.”

“You are at your quota,” he gasped.

“Can’t afford to possibly die right now,” you shook your head. “I thought since the dimension was far enough it’d get me some leeway, but I guess not,” you grimaced.

“Shit, it really is a good thing that I came just in time,” Mark looks over his shoulder. “Dead Shot should be on his way, you didn’t make it hard to find you.”

“Don’t smart-mouth me right now, Mark.”

“Right, yeah, sorry about that,” the speedster ruffled his blue hair and unzipped his jacket, pulling out a book from it. It was heavy, no doubt, leather-bound with metal embellishments around it. The book had lived through as many eons as it did dimensions. You had asked Mark to try to get it for you if he could, but nothing more than that. Better to leave him in blissful ignorance. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time to say this,” he says while he hands it to you.

“Just spit it out.”

“I was looking into that thing you asked me about and here, this is all I got,” he says. “Whatever you need it for it’d better be important, I almost got turned into a frog for it. The guy I got it from warned me not to read it though.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, something about corrupting the person who reads it.”

“Oh shit, I should have Jeno read it then.”

“True, you can’t corrupt a demon.”

“But then again he is only half.”

“Look, (Y/N), I only got you the book because you were so insistent on it. Just reassure me and tell me that you won’t do anything stupid with it.”

“I won’t, I won’t, I may be stupid but I’m not that stupid, Mark. When are the others coming?”

“I just gave them the signal to enter, they’ll be taking care of the Follower problem here in a bit. But you’re going to have to explain why you’re here to them, and I’m afraid that it might involve you revealing your identities this time.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Why else would you be in D62 being housed and paid by this dimension’s Avengers?”

“Fair enough—” you were cut off by the bullet grazing your ear and landing in the wall behind you. Another one rang out and Mark grimaced, holding his hand to his shoulder

“Argh! Come on!” He grunts. He puts a hand on your back and one behind your neck.

“Why?”

“Whiplash,” you blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the Avenger’s Compound.

“Mark, don’t you dare!”

“Sorry! Jeno’s orders! I’d rather a pissed off you than Jeno!”

“Mark, I swear if you zoom out of here—” but the speedster was already gone by the time you turned around. “Dammit!” You kicked the wall and winced immediately, you completely forgot that it was the same foot that had a knife driven through it earlier.

He was right, you’d reached your quota. There was a certain amount of times you were allowed to “die” until it would be too much, and you knew you’d be at this quota when your body would stop healing itself, it was getting ready for its original host to return. You just didn't think you’d reach it soon, and who knows until the number resets? It was always a varying number, and until it did you had to lay low. It was such a hassle that you always tried to avoid it, but coming to this dimension seemed to have expedited the whole thing. You heard a bag of chips drop behind you.

“(Y/N)? When did you get here?” Jisung stared at you while he picked up the bag.

“Mark.”

“Mark’s here? Where?” Jisung looks around.

“There was a complication at Dr. Strange’s place,” you limped towards him, he rushed over to you and reached for your hand to help you, but you tugged it away. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay,” Jisung gave you a little more space, but still walked next to you, sporting that easy-to-read concern. “Do they need help?”

“No. The Avengers are coming.”

“Oh… oh no,” Jisung caught onto why you were being short now. “Oh no, oh no, we won’t have a choice then.”

“No, we won’t,” you heaved the large book under your arm. Jisung looked at it but chose not to question you. “I’ll be in my room, I have a lot of thinking to do before we explain ourselves to the lapdogs so, if you need me, I’ll be in there,” Jisung says.

“Oi, (Y/N)!” Haechan held his hand up and Jisung furiously shook his head. Hyuck pressed on regardless. “Think you need this,” he waved the small box in his hand and you did a doubletake.

“Where did you get that?!” You rushed forward and snatched it out of his hands. “Be a bit more gentle with it!”

“Whoa! What’s got you pissed? Jeno drowned and dropped this. Changmin said to give it to you so I figured it’s important, damn.”

“The Avengers are coming.”

“Like… these Avengers?” He points around the room. “Or our Avengers.”

“The second one,” Jisung nods. “Right, (Y/N)?” You didn’t answer, you were already halfway to your room. You tossed the book on your bed and you opened the small box, pulling the vial of iridescent liquid from it. You twisted it open and downed its limited contents in one gulp. You felt all of your muscles relax at once and you sat on the bed. The wound on your foot closed quickly.

“Postponed, at least for now,” you stretched your arms. “But not permanently,” you placed the vial back in the box and you grabbed the book. As you held the two sides in your hands, ready to open it, you recalled Mark’s warning. Then you remembered the words of the Demon King himself.

“If you know what’s good for you, and what’s good for the world you reside in. Do not seek more than you already know about yourself.”

The times you spoke to Jeno’s father were limited, and your best friend liked it that way, preferred it actually, but the times you did talk they were always pleasant. Save for that warning. He knew something you didn’t, the both of them. You acquired this book without any of their knowledge. For years you just went with it, there’s a quota for death, there’s a reason why you can’t die, there’s a reason why you should avoid stepping near the Seraph, but now in this new universe, you had to know. There was something calling out to you in this dimension, it was very faint, and you didn’t truly notice it until you walked into the Sanctum.

You put the book away, sliding it under the bed.

Trust is mutual, if two very powerful beings are telling you to stay in your lane you probably should. You knew the bare minimum of your condition, so to say, you knew what you had to. Die too many times too close together and something else will come and reclaim its host, and all you knew about that entity was that it was some eldritch creature that took a millennia to finally contain, and for some reason, it had some affinity for you. That is where your knowledge stopped and your curiosity began. What could be so powerful that even the all-powerful Demon King wanted to keep it contained, and what did it have to do with you? Your answers were under your bed. But you risked too much by simply opening the book on its own. You hit your head lightly on the wall behind you. The liquid in the vial would extend your quota by at most three, you had to use them carefully. If you were going to attract a horrific monster, it would probably be best to not do it in a world that you didn’t belong to.

There was a knock at your door.

“What do you want, Renjun?”

The door opened slowly, and someone else stood at it.

“Is now a bad time?” Stark asks. You shook your head.

“It’s your building, come in,” you sighed. He walked in at your invitation, sitting at the table to the side.

“So this is what S.H.I.E.L.D. meant by living accommodations,” he laughs.

“What did you need, Mr. Stark?”

“Tony’s fine, thanks,” he says. “Sorry, it was eating away at me, I had to ask.”

“You wanna know about what you’re like in my dimension, right?”

“I’d appreciate it, but, something tells me I should come back later.”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine.”

“Where are your friends?”

“Probably getting their asses kicked, but I’m here instead,” you shrugged. “Honestly, you’re not that different. Maybe a little less depressed, but that’s about it. For what it counts, to our knowledge, you aren’t a Follower. You work closely with the Seraph, if they found out then you would’ve been executed on spot, at the very least.”

“Oh yeah? Crazy leader or rational one?”

“Bit of both,” you leaned forward on your bed, kicking the book further under your bed. “Want to know anything else?”

“I was wondering if you could walk me through your Traveler of yours, is it anything like Time Travel?”

“Let’s call it two sides of the same coin.”

“How so? What do you use? Cosmic strings? Möbius strip?”

“Have you heard of the infinite cylinder theory?”

“Also known as Tipler?

“Yes!”

“Then yes, I’m aware.”

“How about Schrödinger’s Equation?”

“We’re talking hamiltonian operators?”

“Bingo. If you can manipulate those two concepts, you can get time travel, but it’s not perfect. So manipulate them differently, add a few more concepts because you have to take relativity into account, and bam. Dimensional Travel.”

“That easy?”

“Yeah, well, no, but in theory sure.”

“And you never went to high school?”

“What’s that got to do with it? If you need a degree to prove you’re right then you’re probably not the sharpest tool in the shed,” you shrug. Tony opened his mouth to retaliate, but couldn’t think of a good comeback to that. “Something tells me you want to ask me something more specific though, Peter let slip that he’s been sending you updates, so I’m sure you’re here for a different reason.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why help us?”

“Don’t really know how to answer that one, Tony,” you placed your ankle on your opposite knee and rolled out your ankle. “Usually we just take whichever job pays the most, but Changmin asked us personally to take this one, so how could we say no? The guy rarely ever asks us favors, and it was the least we could do.”

“That simple?”

“What? Did you want me to say that we wanted to meet you guys? I mean, it’s certainly a plus. Most of your team happen to be carbon copies of the same one who wants to kill us, so there’s that, we’re observing the ways you act, maybe it’ll help us in the future, maybe not. It’s like a two-way deal, you get your Traveler, and we get data.”

“Data,” Tony scoffs. “I can see why you’d come to that conclusion.”

“What can I say? It’s helpful. But, I can definitely say that we might be relieved of our duties soon, we’re technically here illegally, I’ll have you know,” you said to him. “We’re supposed to get official approval from the Secretary of Travel before jumping dimensions, but we’re not exactly law followers so we never did. But now that an official government team is on their way, hoo boy, my greatest rival is yet to come. Paperwork,” you made light of what would otherwise be a very very bad situation.

“I heard, so we get to meet the other Avengers.”

“Yup. And, let me tell you right now, they’re not the nicest people.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, just you wait until I tell you about them.”

~

The shadow amalgamate shattered into what it once was, scurrying back to their original positions, once Chenle had the wind knocked out of him by Lynx. He landed harshly on Jaemin, who then lost his balance and sent the two tumbling down to the first floor of the Sanctum.

“Sorry,” Chenle rolled off the top of Jaemin.

“It’s fine, call it even for the incident with the banshee.”

“Agreed, ugh, my head’s doing cartwheels…”

“Cartwheels? I feel like mine is being churned,” Jaemin holds his head. Chenle and Jaemin lay next to each other for a moment, trying to stop their spinning heads when someone stood over them.

“Are we bothering you, gentlemen?”

“Ugh, these fuckers are here,” Jaemin covered his eyes with his arms. “Tell me when they’re gone, Apollo.”

“That’s kind of mean,” Mark frowns. Jaemin moves his hand.

“Mark’s not a bad person, actually, Tony. I feel bad because I encouraged him to join the Avengers when they asked, but the other guys saw it as a complete betrayal. But he’s loyal, he doesn’t hate us and we don’t hate him, or at least I don’t.”

“Oh look! The traitor!” He lazily points at him. “Do you know how much shit we’ve been through since you left?”

“All the dishes we’ve had to wash?”

“V won’t even let us take your room because she thinks you’re coming back! You dumb traitor, what happened to our friendship bracelets, Mark?! Huh?!”

“You guys, don’t call me that, come on! Look I’m still wearing it!” Mark whines.

“Go away! You left us for your cooler friends who can legally blow things up, go! Go have fun with them!” Chenle points an accusing finger towards the speedster.

“Just leave them there,” Mark whispers.

“We’re looking for Strange,” a deeper voice says.

“Oh my god, is that Wong Yukhei?” Jaemin asks, his blurred vision not helping him at all. “You know, Vendetta has a cardboard cutout of you, I think she talks to it sometimes,” he laughs, his words slightly slurred as a result of the head damage received when he fell on the hard floors in the first place.

“Flattered,” Yukhei responds.

“Wong Yukhei, decorated soldier from the order of war and the first in the super-soldier experiments. Actually not a bad guy, but feels the need to flex his bravado every now and then because of the team he’s on, and honestly, I kind of relate to that.”

“The hatless wizard is somewhere upstairs,” Chenle points up and lets his arm drop to his side. “We’d help, but you guys look like one big ugly walrus right now.” Jaemin starts cracking up and the two high five.

“Do we have to work with them?” Another voice snapped.

“Li Yongqin, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, Lee Youngheum, he has too many names to remember so people usually just call him Ten. He was a perfect student in the military academies, which I’m guessing where his nickname comes from. But he’s pretty impatient, rather ill-tempered from my experience."

“We don’t have a choice,” a more suave on this time.

“Ooh, Lee Taemin. He's an interesting one, Tony. We’re actually pretty close, or used to be at least. He’s very good at what he does, he has years of experience under his belt, but it’s pretty scary. He’s probably done his research by now, be careful, he knows you better than you know yourself. Don’t argue.”

“Gentlemen, let’s end this, we have clearance from the Seraph to exterminate the Followers,” a more powerful one.

“Oh, oh, Lee Taeyong! He’s great. I’ve seen him work a couple of times, I think he’s shot me in the head before. Don’t ask. I have a great deal of respect for him, but he’s kind of anti-social, not easy to get along with him, but I think it’s all miscommunication in the end. I think if we really got to know each other we’d hit it off, but otherwise, I think I’m just a person with a bounty on her head in his eyes.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jaemin pushed himself up, his eyes finally focusing. “Exterminate? Yeah, you guys do that, but let the Maverick leave first, we don’t want to get caught up in your deathmatch again,” Jaemin hits the side of his head a few times.

“Where’s the Vendetta?”

“Not here! She left because Reaper was being a little bitch!” Jaemin laughs again and Chenle joins him.

“We’re wasting our time here with these idiots,” another person says. Chenle squints his eyes to make out the figure.

“Now there’s Kim Jongin, he’s one of the people who started the Avengers project and got them all together. He’s an indispensable member, in my opinion. But when you’re in a team with that many star-studded members who are constantly in the public eye, it’s easy to get lost in the lights. But he knows how to keep things according to itinerary.”

“Who are you again?” He asks. “I thought the Avengers only had six members,” he stifles back a laugh.

“Dude that’s low!” Jaemin cackles. Mark swallows down a laugh when Taemin looks over at him, both of them trying to be respectful to their teammate.

“I know that’s why I said it!” Chenle hits his teammate’s arm and Jaemin winces, but the two continue in their little circus.

“Forget them, let’s just go,” Jongin. The team ascends the steps.

“Enter, the Avengers,” Baekhyun smiles.

“And finally there’s their leader. Byun Baekhyun— yes, he’s my older brother, no we don’t talk, and I don’t think he even knows I’m alive. He’s similar to you in some aspects, he pays for all of their shit. But he’s manipulative. He knows how to get into your head. Be careful with him.”

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[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 13

"Oh Im gonna take a small break and go easy on this chapter :D" - me the other day. i then proceeded to write the longest chapter so far for no god damn reason.

ALSO YAY COOL SYMBOLISM IN THIS ONE

Thank you @i-have-this-now​ for helping me with transitions because im a complete mess Thank you to @rivys​ for beta reading and editing!

Master Post

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~~~

“They WHAT?!” Wilbur yelled, wheeling around to stare at the teenager behind him. 

“They uh, they’re going to try and bring our Tommy and Dream back?” Tubbo repeated, taking a step back. “Is that bad…?” Hadn’t this been what Wilbur wanted? For their own Tommy to come home? Why was he acting so aggressive about it? 

“Yes that's bad! Thats really fucking bad! Not Tommy obviously, but Dream?! Tubbo, Dream could come and break the peace treaty. He might start a whole new war, just out of spite. I cant… We can’t do that again. We just don’t have the resources.”

Tubbo paled as he realized what Wilbur was saying. Yes, they might have a chance to bring Tommy home, but at what cost? They would have to go back to living in fear, terrified that at any moment, Dream would come up behind them and try to kill one of them. He took another step back, shaking his head. He couldn’t go back to living like that. He just couldn’t. 

Wilbur walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, crouching slightly so that he was at eye level. “Tubbo, I need you to tell me something, and I need you to tell me the truth. Where are they going?” Tubbo shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. On one hand, he had promised Tommy that he was going to help him get home. He had given his word. But on the other, he couldn’t go back to living in constant fear. He just couldn’t. “The eastern dark woods…” he muttered, trying to push away the guilt that gnawed at him. He had to do this. For his friends. He had no choice. 

“Got it.” Wilbur stood to full height, his eyes set and determined. “Go get your things together. We’ve got quite the trip ahead of us.”

~~~

“You can’t be serious. This is all you have? Why are there- why the hell do you have so many buckets? How on earth are you going to carry them?” George shook his head as he looked over the meager pile of supplies that Dream had gathered. 

Dream just shrugged as he rolled up the bedroll he had found in one of the chests. “You never know what might happen. I’m just trying to be prepared.” 

“Right. So you decided the best way to be prepared was to pack 3 buckets, but not pack any food or actual fresh water. You don’t even have a flint and steel!” 

A snort of laughter sounded from behind them. Dream turned to see Tommy, snickering to himself quietly. When the teenager noticed that they were looking at him, he wiped the grin off his face and stood up straight, trying to look serious. It didn’t work. 

“You know, you could be actually helping instead of just standing there and laughing,” Dream remarked. 

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? It’s much more entertaining to sit back and watch you struggle.” 

“Oh really? I would love to see you do a better job.” He clipped the bedroll to the base of his pack. 

Tommy stepped forward with a smug grin. “Ok, I will, since I’m just so cool and awesome. First off, you need coal for torches and shit. Second, toss the buckets out. You’re not going to be pulling any epic mlg moves here. That's just not how physics work.” Dream grumbled to himself as he took the buckets out of the pile. 

“Shut up, both of you!” George cried out, bringing the bickering to a halt. “Clearly neither of you have any idea what's going on or what to do. So instead of arguing, why don’t you just listen to me and do what I tell you to do. We’re on a timer, aren’t we?” 

Dream and Tommy looked down guilty. They had forgotten about the 48 hour limit, and had ended up falling back into their carefree habits. “Right, sorry.” Tommy said. 

“Alright, Dream, I want you to go and gather some water. Once you’ve got a bucket full, I want you to boil it and bottle it. We can’t have you getting sick from dirty water. Tommy, go and gather some wheat. We don’t need too much, just enough to make enough bread for if we can’t find any animals. I’m going to go and get the horses saddled.” George’s voice was calm as he explained what each of them was going to do. The other two nodded and quickly rushed out of the room. 

~~~

“Alright I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve never rode a horse before. I’ve got no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Tommy admited as he tried to find his balance atop the large animal. The three of them had gathered up all of their materials rather quickly, and were now on their way towards the forest. “Seriously, how the fuck do people do this?”

“By shutting up and not complaining.” Dream seemed to have figured out how to ride his horse pretty quickly, and was now spending his time taunting the younger teenager. 

“Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t so damn annoying, I would have less to complain about.” 

"C'mon, Tommy, hurry up. The sun's setting." George said, while Tommy almost fell off his horse.

The three of them rode across the rough wilderness, as the moon rose slowly along the horizon. This was going to be a long night.

~~~

“We can stop here to make camp for the night,” George said as they came across a small clearing. The three of them had been traveling for hours now, and found themselves in the middle of a birch forest. 

"Eugh, birch. This is literally the worst kind of wood." Dream said jokingly. 

"Agreed." Tommy nodded.

"What? Oh come on, birch isn't that bad." George relatiated as he set up a fire.

"What?" Dream laughed. "George, have you seen these trees?"

"Dream, they're just trees. Plus, we aren't gonna be here for long. We'll keep travelling as soon as the sun rises." George rolled his eyes.

“Ughhhh, really?! But that’s so early!” 

“Tommy, shut up. Stop acting like a child. You’re just lucky that we found a place to stop at all.” George handed both Dream and Tommy a couple of torches. “Here, set these up along the perimeter. The last thing we need is a bunch of mobs trying to kill us while we sleep.” 

Both Dream and Tommy stared at him in shock. 

“What? Do you guys not have mobs in your world?” 

“Wha- No of course we don’t! I didn’t think that they were actually real here, holy shit…” Dream exclaimed. 

“Damn… A world where you don’t have to worry about getting eaten alive in the middle of the night. That honestly sounds really nice.” he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “Never mind that right now. I need you guys to set up the torches.”

~~~

The sound of a netherite blade slicing through the air echoed across the quiet forest. It had been several hours since they had set up camp, and Dream had long since given up on sleep. The events of the day had played over and over in his mind, making it impossible to close his eyes. And so, he had quietly gotten up and snuck away to a small open area where he could practice.

Over the past week, he had found that practicing sword fighting helped him to calm down. The simple, repetitive motions helped to quiet the intrusive thoughts that continued to plague him. He had started to grow quite reliant on it to stay sane. Maybe, when he finally got home, he would join a fencing class. 

If he got home. No. No he couldn’t think like that. Pessimism wouldn’t get him anyone. He needed to trust Tubbo and Wilbur. They were going to get him and Tommy home. They had to. 

“You know, you’ve really gotten a lot better,” said a voice from behind him. A squeal of surprise was torn from Dream’s throat as he spun around, his sword at the ready. “Pffft, what on earth was that?” George stepped out from the shadows of the trees into the light of the torches that Dream had set up. 

Dream placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm his racing heart. “Jesus man, you scared me. What the hell was that about?” 

The shorter man chuckled as he stepped further into the light. “Gotta keep you on your toes. What's the point of learning how to fight if you’re not constantly aware?” He drew his own sword and held it out in the form of a challenge. 

“You are actually the worst,” he said, raising his own sword in response. 

With a grin, George rushed forward in attack. Dream raised his sword to block the incoming strike, allowing his instincts to take over. He had learned that if he simply didn’t think about what he was doing, he often did quite well. And so he let his mind go blank, instead focusing on surroundings. The stars, the leaves, the trees, even the man before him was all taken in as they sparred. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” George asked, most likely hoping to distract his opponent. 

Dream only shrugged as he feigned an attack at his friend's leg, only to come up and create a small cut on his cheek. “Couldn’t sleep. I was hoping that doing some practice would help calm me down.” 

“And? How's your success rate?” 

“Well it was pretty good, until you arrived and scared me half to death.”

“Aww, I didn’t realize compliments scared you so much.” 

“Yes, I’m quite shy.” Dream couldn’t help but grin. 

As the two of them joked back and forth, they continued their little duel. It had been going for a couple minutes now, and they seemed to be at a bit of a stand still. A rush of pride surged through him. In roughly a week, he had gone from completely and totally useless to actually able to defend himself. Now, he just needed to set himself apart. 

His mind began working overtime, analysing every small detail. Quickly, he reached back with his free hand and pulled out a loaded crossbow. George’s face transformed into surprise when he saw the weapon. The bolt flew past his face, only just barely grazing the side of his head.

Dream quickly threw the weapon aside and pressed his advantage. Suddenly, the favor was tipped towards Dream. George was unbalanced, startled by the use of the crossbow. Still, he managed to raise his sword just in time to block another strike. 

With his free hand, Dream reached into one of the pouches around his waist and pulled out a small sphere, roughly the size of a marble. With a slight squeeze, the sphere expanded to the size of a baseball. While George was distracted with blocking the strike towards his face, Dream tossed the sphere behind him. With a crash, the sphere shattered against the ground.

Suddenly, Dream appeared behind George in a shower of purple. With a sweep of his foot, his friend came falling to the ground. With a final motion, he held the sword above his throat, his green eyes bright with exhilaration and delight. 

“Alright alright, you win. I surrender,” George said with a laugh. 

“Did you see that?! That was so cool! Oh my god that was so awesome!” Dream exclaimed as he helped George to his feet. “That was so damn cool!!” he started jumping around the small clearing in excitement. 

“How did you even do that? I’ve never seen someone use a crossbow in the middle of a sword fight before” 

“I’ll be honest, I’ve got no idea. I have no idea what the hell I just did. I just know that it was cool as fuck!” 

He shook his head, chuckling as he watched his friend dance around the area. George had never seen Dream show any sort of emotion before, much this level of excitement. Even though he knew the reasons why, he couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out by it. Watching the pure joy flash across Dream’s face was strange. Still, it was nice. “You are such a dork” 

He only responded with a wide grin. 

A thought flashed through George’s mind, causing him to frown slightly. Dream stopped his playful jumping and walked over, his eyes now filled with concern. “Hey, you alright?” He asked. “Oh shit, you’re bleeding! Hold on I’ve got a few bandages on me I think…” 

As Dream pulled out a couple white bandages from his bag, George let out a slight chuckle. “Do you even know how to use those?” 

“Uhhh, not really? I’m sure I can figure it out. How hard can it be?” 

He wasn’t impressed. With a roll of his eyes, George held out his hand for the bandages “Here, just let me do it. It doesn’t really hurt, I think it's just a small cut. Probably just needs to be cleaned.” Taking a bottle of water from his bag, he quickly wet the bandage and started to clean the blood from his face. 

Dream pouted. “Well what if I wanted to help?” 

“Then you can go and wash the blood out of these,” George said, tossing him the now stained bandages. “No point in wasting perfectly good bandages because of a small cut.”

He caught them easily, but otherwise didn’t move. “Nope. Not until you tell me whats wrong.

The brunette cursed under his breath. Since when had he been so easy to read? “I uh, I was just thinking about… Stuff,” he waived his hand vaguely. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Dream plopped down onto the grass and patted the ground next to him. “Here, take a seat.”

He sat. 

“Spill.”

“I’m just… Worried, I guess? I mean, in a few days, you’re going to be gone and… the other Dream will be back. I guess I’m just scared about what he's gonna do.”

The smile faded from Dream’s face as he considered what to say. “What was he like?” he asked after a few seconds. “The other me, I mean.”

“He was… Scary. All he cared about was the thrill of the hunt. The mask made it impossible to tell what he was ever thinking, which made it ten times worse. Of course, it only covered his eyes and nose, so that you could still see his grin.” He shuddered. “I watched as he blew up the gates of L’manberg with a massive smile on his face.” 

“So then… why did you follow him in the first place?” 

“I had no choice. When Sapnap and I showed up, he was the only other person here. It was either join him or be left out to die to the mobs. After a while I guess I just didn’t realize how cruel he was. He was a good leader, and super charismatic. Not to mention a really good actor. By the time the war started… I guess I just trusted him, if that makes sense. He had kept me alive ‘till then, so why would anything change?”

Dream nodded. He wasn’t going to pretend like he understood what his friend had gone through, but he could still try and help in his own way.  “He taught you sword fighting, how to survive. You felt like you were indebted to him, right?” 

“Yeah… Pretty much. God, its so stupid! I should have been able to realize how messed up he was. Why the hell did I not realize?!” He took off his round sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight. “I was so fucking stupid.” 

Hesitantly, Dream reached over and placed a hand on his friends back, trying to comfort him. “Hey, that’s not stupid. You’d be surprised at how easily our minds can trick us into thinking we’re doing the right thing. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's not your fault.” A stab of guilt shot through him. He had been the one to add George onto the server. If he had waited a bit, would things have been different? Maybe if he had acted differently on stream, or not sent the declaration of war, maybe things would have turned out different. The other Dream might have turned out to be a decent guy, not someone that people trembled before and feared. 

“I should have been smarter… I should have joined Sapnap when he went off on his own.” 

The weight of George’s words finally sunk in. The other Dream was a monster, a killer. He was the living, breathing version of the mask Dream sometimes wore in his videos. The act of someone who enjoyed the hunt, and nothing more. These past two weeks had been peaceful and calm compared to what everyone had normally lived through, and it was all because the monster was finally gone. But now… now they were about to bring him back. They were about to bring everyone’s worst nightmare back to life. 

What choice did they have? It was either that, or let the entire world get destroyed. Either way, the other Dream was about to ruin people’s lives. He sighed. “It's going to be alright, ok? We’ll figure something out, I promise. You’re not going to go back to living like that. I promise.” 

Now, it was just a matter of keeping that promise. 

~~~

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[kogo-dogo]

Post the ideas! I know I'd love to hear about them! If it makes you happy, then you should do it :]

Okay, back to the thing with the story idea.

A rough synopsis is basically this: The whole basis of the idea is Ancient Mesopotamia But With Weird Tech. The current civilization of this fantasy environment was literally built on top of an older, more technologically advanced civilization that almost obliterated each other and the world. Their technology was forgotten and tales of their machines amounted to mythological stories about flying monsters and massive predators and speaking lights that would lure people to their deaths. But then, outside of a city-state called Sila-Ur, the sands began to shift and some old ruins were uncovered.

The ruling caste of Sila-Ur thought this happened because the gods were gifting them the beasts of legend, and they did with it what a lot of humans would do when given weapons of such power: they decided to expand their territory.

Sila-Ur dreams of having a massive empire bigger than any of the city-states that dot the landscape, and as such have been using the uncovered tech to advance beyond their neighbors and take them down one by one. It's basically like giving Genghis Khan a tank while everyone else was still fighting on horseback, and the technologically inferior targets of these attacks have reacted with mixed responses.

Some roll over and accept their rule because, come on. Are you really going to fight a stone behemoth that was tamed by the enemy and expect to win? Some will fight until there's nobody left. Some will look to old religious myths and legends in hopes that newfound devotion to the gods will grant them the same boons it granted Sila-Ur. Some just sit and watch the horizon and hope that it's a long, long time before the enemy comes knocking at their door.

The main character of this story is Imali (literally "tamarind"), who was a child soldier who was once a part of a low-caste family in a now-destroyed city-state. Said city-state turned to old myths and magic in hopes of receiving a blessing to combat Sila-Ur, and thought they had it in the form of Imali. She was born with a birthmark that "marked" her as a war-sacrifice, so she was raised by a handler to meet very specific qualifications for an old prophecy and was trained to ride a warbeast (they're called Lamassus, and are bat... gryphon... dragon... things).

The goal was, when Sila-Ur finally came, they'd send her in to lead their troops and fight until she was incapable of going on. Her sacrifice was supposed to appease a Spirit of War who would strike the Stone Monsters out of the sky. Only, she... didn't die. She was shot out of the air on her Lamassu and hit the ground and was severely injured and almost died... but she didn't die and her city-state lost the war and was summarily wiped from existence.

Now, Imali lives in a new home with a reputation that precedes her, and a lot of people are angry she is still alive and kicking and Sila-Ur wasn't defeated. More than just her people were banking on a victory. So, most people know her as the "Martyr of Karru," a name that confuses many outsiders who don't know her story, and it's said with derision and anger. She enjoys a status as a second-class citizen, and the only people who'll show her any kindness are a single gate guard and the family of Balai, a hunter who lives with his wives and his shepherd father outside of the city gates, and whose family found Imali half-dead while scavenging for scrap.

She's both heavily traumatized and angry about how her life has turned out, and spends a lot of her time living in a haze. She doesn't laugh or smile much anymore, save in the presence of her new Lamassu: Lygasi, who came from the same pack as her original that she lost during the war. She watches Sila-Ur creep closer and closer to where she is, and wonders how long before she just has to pack it up and run since she knows she can't beat them...

... But maybe there's a resistance group out there. One that keeps getting mistaken as bandits. One that has begun to figure out the source of Sila-Ur's "flying monsters" and "great beasts" and is desperate to enlist her help.

And maybe sometime soon she's going to run across them.