#nearest electronics store

[hellokittyish]

★ thinking about ex!satoru who still stubbornly refers to you in conversation as his girlfriend, even after a few long months have passed since your breakup.

he simply can't (or won't) acknowledge the fact that the two of you are no longer an item, even going as far as to frequently send you texts updating you on his daily life and then spamming you with facetime requests that you have to keep declining until you eventually give in and respond to his original messages.

and when you inevitably block his number? that's okay, he'll just pop on down to the nearest electronics store and purchase a new phone. no biggie!

so later that evening when your screen lights up with a suspicious looking notification from an unregistered contact, you unfortunately already know exactly who it's from.

unknown: can't a guy talk with his pretty gf anymore? :(

unknown: oops, that was a typo! i definitely meant ex gf

and you're rolling your eyes in annoyance, finger hovering just above the oh-so-tempting bright red block button before the sight of a photo appearing in the chat captures your attention.

unknown: sent [1] image attachment

unknown: i think he misses u almost as much as i do

curiosity overtaking your rational thinking, you find yourself clicking on the picture... only to be greeted with the overly familiar sight of satoru's lengthy cock, hard and leaking between his legs.

unknown: see? he's cryin for u and everything

unknown: [incoming facetime request]

and this time; instead of just simply pressing decline like your muscle memory frantically urges you to — and in what can only be described as a moment of intense weakness... you answer.

part two here.

[robinsnest2111]

went down a recommended video rabbithole and now i wanna listen to Seeed's greatest hits from the early to mid 2000s :'3

my childhood! the music video to "Ding" is probably one of the driving forces behind me becoming somewhat of a furry (along with Disney's Robin Hood and some other anthro cartoon designs)

[missmadella]

Bonten's Heart (Bonten x Reader)

Well, I may have gone a little overboard again, but I have so many ideas! I already have another one-shot planned. I hope you enjoy these little stories as much as I enjoy writing them. :3

Summary: As Bonten's darling, you’ve always been at the center of their world — a constant reminder of what they protect. But when a late-night craving leads you to sneak out for some ice cream, your world takes a dangerous turn. After being injured while trying to protect Koko during a break-in at Bonten HQ, the members are left shaken, realizing just how much they’ve come to rely on and care for you.

Words: 14551

It was the quiet hum of the city that woke you up. You blinked your eyes open, groggily trying to make sense of the dim light filtering through the blinds. The room was still, peaceful, save for the soft sounds of Bonten HQ—the distant murmurs of voices, the faint buzz of electronics. Your body was still heavy with sleep, but there was something nagging at you, something tugging at the back of your mind.

At first, you tried to ignore it, shifting slightly under the covers and pulling them up higher. But it was no use. It wasn’t a physical ache or the discomfort of a bad dream. It was… a craving.

A sudden, overpowering urge for something cold. Something sweet.

You stared up at the ceiling, mind swirling through the usual options. Chips? No, not salty enough. Chocolate? Maybe, but… no, that wasn’t it. Ice cream. The thought of it hit you like a wave, and suddenly, the need for ice cream was all you could focus on. You could practically taste the cool, creamy sweetness already—vanilla with swirls of caramel or maybe something with chocolate chips. The possibilities were endless.

You groaned inwardly. It was 2:47 AM. Why now? Why, of all times, did this craving hit you at this hour?

Your stomach gave an impatient little growl, confirming that you weren’t just imagining it. The craving was real.

You glanced over at the clock beside your bed. The bright numbers stared back at you, reminding you how late—or early—it really was. Everyone else was probably still in the middle of their usual late-night meeting, discussing some operation or other. Mikey, Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, Koko, and Kakucho—they’d be talking about business while you were struggling to ignore your sudden food obsession.

But no. You couldn’t just lie there and try to sleep through this. The craving for ice cream was too strong. And besides, it would only take a quick trip down to the convenience store, right? You could get your treat, be back before anyone even noticed.

You groaned again, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The cool floor beneath your feet was a shock, but it helped clear your head just a little. You knew the risks—sneaking out in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea, especially with Bonten members always alert, but the pull of that ice cream was stronger than any fear of being caught.

You stood up, glancing around your room, which was dim and quiet. The meeting wasn’t supposed to end anytime soon. You’d be in and out, like a ghost—quick, efficient. The store wasn’t too far, and you could grab your treat without anyone noticing.

You quickly pulled a hoodie on over your sleepwear, tying the strings tight to hide the fact that you were still wearing your pajamas. The cold air outside would definitely need a jacket. Grabbing the nearest one hanging on the back of the door, you slipped it over your shoulders. The whole process was almost mechanical—get the ice cream, satisfy the craving, and return to your room. Easy.

You padded quietly across the room to the door, your slippers making soft shuffling sounds against the floor. The hallway outside was quiet, too. It was late, almost unnaturally still for Bonten HQ. You paused, listening carefully for any signs of movement or voices from the meeting room at the far end of the hall. But there was nothing. Just the faintest echoes of hushed conversations and the occasional click of a door shutting.

Your heart pounded a little faster now. The thrill of sneaking out was always a bit exciting, especially in a place like this where everyone’s business was so… important. And secret. You were pretty sure Bonten members didn’t just go for midnight snacks, but you didn’t care.

“Just a quick trip,” you whispered to yourself, your hand resting lightly on the door handle. “In and out.”

With a quiet sigh, you cracked the door open, the faint light from the hallway spilling into your dark room. You stepped out, closing it as quietly as possible behind you. The hallway was eerily quiet, and you carefully tiptoed toward the back exit, making sure your footsteps didn’t echo. Your heartbeat was louder than your footsteps as you made your way to the door that would lead you outside.

But then, as you reached for the handle, something in the air shifted. A slight rustling, a sound in the distance. You paused, freezing in place for just a moment.

Someone was in the hallway. And judging by the soft steps, they weren’t far.

_________________________________________________________________________________

With a quick rush, you stormed out of the HQ, finally making your way to the 24/7 grocery store down the street, still in your slippers. The only thing you wore was a big hoodie you’d "borrowed" from Mikey—the one he’d been searching for ever since—and your pajama shorts. It was a warm summer night, not too cold, but certainly not the warmest either. A slight shiver ran through you as you cuddled your face deeper into Mikey’s hoodie, strolling down the street.

The only problem was, you hadn’t realized you’d been seen leaving the house at 2 AM.

With a sigh, Mikey leaned back in his chair, watching the city streets from the high vantage point, his gaze eventually settling on the figure walking in slippers below. Sanzu had informed him that you’d vanished into the night. God only knew what your plan was. Without saying another word, Mikey sent Ran and Rindou after you, instructing them to either make sure you arrived safely at your destination or bring you back to safety. He couldn’t risk anything happening to Bonten’s darling just because they hadn’t been paying attention to you.

As you walked further down the street, the cool night air felt refreshing against your skin, and you couldn’t help but smile as you imagined the ice cream you were about to indulge in. You’d almost forgotten about the dangers of sneaking out in the dead of night until you heard a soft footstep behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and instinctively, you pulled the hood of Mikey’s sweatshirt tighter around your face.

You glanced over your shoulder, but the street was empty. It was probably nothing, just your imagination, right?

But then, the footsteps grew closer.

You quickened your pace, trying to ignore the growing unease in the pit of your stomach. Your slippers slapping against the pavement was the only sound you could focus on as your breath hitched in your chest. A rush of adrenaline coursed through you, and just as you turned the corner to head to the 24/7 store, a shadow appeared ahead.

"Going somewhere?" Ran’s voice came from the darkness, smooth and teasing, yet with a hint of concern.

Your heart skipped a beat. So much for being sneaky.

You whirled around to find Ran and Rindou standing there, looking far too amused for the situation. Ran’s smirk was the first thing you saw, his arms crossed casually, while Rindou leaned against the brick wall, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Really? At 2 AM?" Rindou asked, his tone light, but there was that underlying sense of responsibility in his voice. "Don’t you know better than to sneak out like that?"

You stood frozen for a second, surprised by how easily they’d caught up to you. You had been sure you were being quiet. The giggles from the convenience store seemed distant now, and the cool night air no longer felt comforting.

"Well," you started, trying to recover some of your usual confidence, "I didn’t think anyone would notice. I just wanted something sweet, okay? Is that so wrong?"

Ran’s smirk widened, his gaze softening slightly as he studied you. "Sweet, huh? It’s not that we’re against late-night snacks. But you can’t just be out here alone without telling anyone. Especially not when Mikey’s been worried about you."

You felt a flush creep up your neck at his words. You hadn’t exactly planned for them to find out, let alone Mikey. "I didn’t want to disturb you guys doing your meeting," you muttered, looking down at your slippers.

Rindou pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer. "You really think we wouldn’t notice you slipping out at this hour?" His voice was softer now, almost playful, but there was a thread of seriousness running beneath it. "We can’t have you wandering around by yourself. Especially with all that’s been going on."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t quite hide the warm feeling blooming in your chest. There was something comforting about having them keep an eye on you—even if it wasn’t the way you wanted.

"So, what? You’re just going to follow me all the way to the store?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ran shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "You didn’t think you were going to get away with it that easily, did you?"

Before you could protest further, Sanzu appeared from the alley behind them, his expression unreadable. "Mikey’s been watching, you know. He sent us to make sure you were safe."

You sighed, looking at the ground, finally realizing you were caught. "I’m not a kid, you know. I can handle myself."

But deep down, you knew they were right. Bonten wasn’t the safest place to wander alone at night, especially with the number of enemies that would target them—and by extension, you.

Rindou chuckled, nudging you gently. "Let’s just get your ice cream and head back. You’re not going anywhere without us tonight."

___________________________________________________________________________

With a heavy sigh, you relented, knowing full well that there was no point in arguing. Sanzu walked up to join the group, his usual smirk in place as he fell in step with you.

"You know," he said in his signature lazy drawl, "Mikey’s gonna have a field day when he finds out you snuck out without telling anyone. Bet he’ll lecture you for hours, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips despite yourself. "Don’t remind me."

The group walked in silence for a while, the only sound being your slippers slapping softly against the pavement. You glanced up at Ran, who was walking just behind you, his steps slow and measured. Every now and then, his eyes would flick to you, almost as if checking that you were still walking in the right direction, like he was making sure you were safe.

"Enjoying your midnight stroll, princess?" Ran asked, his tone teasing, but his eyes were always alert, scanning the street around you.

Rindou was ahead of you, strolling casually, but every now and then he’d glance over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t really upset—he was just being cautious, like always.

"I still don’t get why you didn’t just tell us," Rindou muttered as he looked back at you. "You could’ve just asked us for ice cream, darling. We would’ve gotten you whatever you wanted."

"Yeah, well," you said, pulling the hoodie tighter around your shoulders, "I didn’t want to disturb. Plus, you guys are probably tired too."

Ran chuckled from behind you. "We’re never too busy or tired for you, sweetheart."

You stopped for a moment, feeling the warmth of their words. It was a little embarrassing, but comforting too. The tension in your shoulders eased, and you could breathe a little easier knowing they were sticking with you—whether you wanted them to or not.

"We're like a little army watching over you, darling," Sanzu added, his voice dripping with amusement. "I’m sure Mikey would approve of our thoroughness."

You shot him a look. "I didn’t need a whole army."

Ran leaned in, his voice quieter now, teasing but with an edge of seriousness. "Maybe not, but it’s our job to make sure you’re safe, princess. You don’t get to walk around Bonten HQ without us keeping an eye on you."

"That’s what bodyguards are for," you muttered, feeling a bit of frustration build up. But you knew, deep down, they weren’t just following you out of obligation. They cared, even if it came across in their teasing.

________________________________________________________________________

When you arrived at the convenience store, you made a beeline for the freezer section, determined to get the ice cream and make this as quick as possible. You didn’t need the whole group looming over you, especially when they were already making jokes at your expense.

But Rindou and Ran were right behind you, casually glancing at the options.

“Did you have a flavor in mind, sweetheart?” Rindou asked, sounding genuinely interested. “Or are we picking for you?”

You hesitated for a moment, eyes scanning the freezer. "Vanilla," you said finally. "With caramel swirls. That’s what I was in the mood for."

Ran nodded and leaned over to pick up the tub. "Not a bad choice, princess. Classic."

You turned to glance at him, but your eyes met Sanzu instead, who was eyeing the shelves of snacks with the most casual demeanor. His smirk was still firmly in place as he flicked his gaze between you and the ice cream.

"Don’t even think about stealing some of mine, Sanzu," you warned, narrowing your eyes playfully.

Sanzu raised an eyebrow, not even looking at you. "I wasn’t gonna steal any, darling. Just admiring it." He grinned, though, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But now that you mention it…"

You swatted at his hand as he reached for your tub, laughing despite yourself.

Once the ice cream was secured, you made your way to the counter. Ran followed close behind, still teasing you. “You really didn’t think we’d just let you wander off on your own, huh, princess? We’ve been running after you for a reason.”

You snorted, clearly not expecting such concern. “I wasn’t planning on getting kidnapped, you know. It’s just ice cream.”

Rindou chuckled. “You’re not the problem, darling. The problem is how easily you could’ve wandered into something dangerous. We can’t just let you go off on your own in the middle of the night. The last thing we need is for something bad to happen to you.”

You paused at the counter, the words catching you slightly off guard. It wasn’t like you hadn’t known they cared, but hearing it out loud felt different. You glanced at them, feeling a little warmth flood your chest despite yourself.

"Thanks," you muttered quietly.

The walk back was quieter this time, the playful teasing from earlier fading into a comfortable silence. You held the ice cream tub in your arms as you walked alongside Ran, who had subtly slowed his pace to match yours. He didn’t say much, just offered a soft smile every now and then, his casual nature more comforting than anything else.

Sanzu was still trailing behind, occasionally making snide comments under his breath, but it was clear he was watching your back.

When you reached the door of Bonten HQ, Rindou and Ran gave you a moment before following you inside, their eyes scanning the area just in case.

"Next time," Rindou said, his tone light but sincere, "just ask us, darling. We’re always around to make sure you’re alright."

You nodded, finally feeling the full weight of their concern. "I’ll keep that in mind."

You were halfway to your room when you heard Mikey’s voice call out from the hallway. You froze, the ice cream tub almost slipping from your hands. You hadn’t thought Mikey would still be up.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going, darling?” Mikey asked, looking between you and the group of Bonten members trailing behind you.

The teasing tone in his voice made you realize that, while you had tried to sneak away, Mikey and the others were always one step ahead.

“Just getting some ice cream,” you said sheepishly, holding up the tub as if that would explain everything.

Mikey raised an eyebrow, but there was a soft smile on his face. “At 2 AM?”

You smiled back, the tension easing away. "Yeah, Mikey. At 2 AM."

He shook his head but said nothing more, allowing you to head back to your room, the comforting weight of Mikey’s hoodie still wrapped around you.

__________________________________________________________________________

You had barely taken the first satisfying spoonful of ice cream when you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching your door. Before you could even finish licking the spoon, Mikey’s voice rang through the hallway.

“Oi, sweetheart,” Mikey’s voice echoed, “You got enough ice cream there? Or are you planning to make us all jealous?”

The door creaked open before you could respond, and in walked Mikey, Sanzu, Ran, Rindou, Koko, and Kakucho—all six of them, lined up at the doorway, gazing at you like a group of sentries. You blinked up at them, spoon still in hand, surprised to see the entire Bonten crew standing there.

“Didn’t think you’d all show up," you muttered, but there was a smile playing on your lips. It wasn’t a surprise, really. After all, they had followed you all the way to the convenience store, and now here they were, keeping watch over you as you enjoyed your midnight snack.

Mikey leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he smirked at you. "You think you're getting away with sneaking out, princess?"

"Just wanted some peace and ice cream," you said with a playful shrug, trying to hide your amusement.

Sanzu walked over and plopped down beside you on the bed, his usual grin in place. "Peace? With all of us here? Good luck with that." He reached for the ice cream tub without hesitation, scooping up a bite. "Might as well share, darling."

You sighed, but handed him the tub anyway. He was just like that—always pushing his luck.

Ran remained by the door, his arms folded in a more serious manner than the others, but there was something warm in his eyes as he spoke. "Sneaking out in the middle of the night without telling any of us?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing but with an underlying edge of concern. "You’re lucky we care about you, sweetheart. Could’ve been dangerous."

"Yeah," Rindou added, stepping forward from the back of the group, his tone quieter but just as serious. "You never know what kind of mess you could’ve gotten caught up in. This isn't some safe little neighborhood, darling." He eyed you with a bit of exasperation but mixed with fondness.

You glanced around at them, the weight of their concern starting to sink in. “I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal... It’s just ice cream."

Koko chuckled from the back of the room, his voice smooth and carefree as always. "You’ve got to admit, princess," he said, crossing his arms. "We’re a bit more than just a 'group of guys.' It’s our job to keep you safe. You can’t just wander off like that, no matter how innocent your intentions are."

Kakucho, who had been standing silently at the back of the room, stepped forward now, his usual calm expression never faltering. He gave you a small but sincere smile before speaking up, his tone soft but earnest. "We... don’t want anything to happen to you, sweetheart. You’re important to all of us."

You stopped eating for a moment, looking at him. Kakucho rarely said much, but when he did, it was always meaningful. His words held weight, and you could tell he meant it.

You nodded slowly, but then teasingly raised the ice cream tub. "But you all are acting like I’m not capable of handling myself. Do I look that helpless?" you said with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Mikey chuckled, stepping forward now. "You’re far from helpless, sweetheart. But that’s not the point." He gently took the ice cream from your hand, setting it aside on your desk. His gaze softened as he looked at you. "The point is, we care. I care."

Sanzu glanced between the two of you with a smirk. "Mikey’s all worried about you, huh, princess?" he teased, nudging you lightly. "Can’t blame him though, you’re his and our darling after all."

Mikey ignored the jab, but the faintest blush spread across his cheeks as he adjusted his posture. "Shut up, Sanzu," he muttered before turning back to you, his tone softening even more. "I’m serious, alright? Don’t go sneaking off again, especially at this hour. The City doesn’t exactly have the safest streets."

Ran finally pushed off the doorframe and walked over to where you were sitting. His eyes met yours, a little more intense than before. "You’re important to us, princess. I won’t repeat myself again. We don’t want you in danger."

You felt a warmth spread in your chest, not just from their words, but from how genuine they sounded. Despite their intimidating roles, these guys really cared for you in a way that was hard to ignore.

"Okay, okay, I get it." You leaned back against the headboard, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’ll try to keep it safer next time. But you guys gotta chill out sometimes."

Rindou snorted. "We can’t exactly ‘chill out’ when you make moves like that." His eyes softened as he met your gaze. "We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you."

There was a long pause as the members of Bonten all stood around, watching you with varying expressions, but the sentiment was clear: they cared deeply. The playful teasing faded into something deeper, something more heartfelt.

Koko sighed dramatically, still leaning against the wall. "Looks like we’re gonna have to start babysitting you more often, huh, princess?" His voice was light, but his eyes never left you.

You snickered and shook your head. "As long as you bring ice cream," you joked, already reaching for another spoonful.

Kakucho smiled softly, his eyes glancing down at you. "Fine. We’ll make sure you get all the ice cream you want... as long as you promise to stay out of trouble, darling."

You grinned. "Deal."

___________________________________________________________________________

The night that had started off peaceful with laughter and playful teasing was quickly turned upside down. As you were finishing your ice cream and chatting with the members, everything changed. The calm, cool atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted as Sanzu’s phone buzzed. His expression immediately hardened, his eyes scanning the screen before quickly looking up at Mikey.

“It’s bad,” Sanzu said, his voice sharp with tension.

Mikey’s eyes narrowed, and in a flash, the carefree vibe was gone. The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of focused determination.

“They’re coming,” Mikey muttered, his hand quickly reaching for his gun. His eyes flickered to you, and you immediately knew something wasn’t right.

“Everyone, to your positions!” Ran barked, his voice carrying authority as he moved toward the door.

“Stay here, sweetheart,” Rindou added, his voice low, trying to mask the urgency in his tone. "Don't move from this room. It's not safe out there."

You froze, the ice cream spoon still in your hand as you processed his words. There was no time for explanation as the other Bonten members swiftly readied themselves.

“Koko, take the left wing,” Mikey ordered, his voice clear and steady despite the rush of adrenaline in the air. “Sanzu, you and Kakucho go to the back. Rindou, Ran, you’re with me on the right side. Keep her safe.”

As the other members rushed out to take their respective positions, Kakucho lingered for a moment at the door, his eyes flicking back to you. There was something unreadable in his gaze, but his words were firm.

“Stay in the room, don’t leave. We’ll handle it.”

You nodded, your heart racing. You had never seen them so tense before. It wasn’t like the usual operations or missions. This felt different. The air was thick with the promise of danger, and you knew—this time, it was personal.

The moment the door clicked shut, the sound of heavy boots rushing through the corridors and the tense murmurs of Bonten’s most feared men echoed through the HQ. You stayed still, anxiety creeping in as you glanced toward the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside, but the blinds were closed.

Then—an explosion.

The windows rattled as the sound of an impact vibrated through the building. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could react, the door burst open. Ran was the first to rush back in, his face a mask of urgency.

“Get back to your room!” he ordered, his eyes flicking to you with a mix of concern and command. “It’s not safe. Stay in here, don’t—”

Before he could finish, the sounds of shouts and gunfire rang from the hallway. A cold chill ran down your spine.

You didn’t want to hide in the room. You couldn’t. Mikey and the others were out there, and you weren’t about to just wait around while they were in danger.

Ignoring Ran’s desperate commands, you quickly ran for the door. You flung it open just as the first figure stormed past the hallway. There were shadows of men, all armed, charging down the corridor.

“Stay the hell back, princess!” Rindou’s voice snapped from the hallway, but it was too late. You were already stepping out, determined to find your way to where they were fighting.

You rounded a corner, heart hammering in your chest as you saw the chaos unfolding. Mikey, Sanzu, and Kakucho were already taking down enemies, but Koko—he was surrounded. A gang member had slipped past the others and was wielding a knife, aiming it straight at Koko’s side.

“No!” you screamed, your heart leaping in your chest. You didn’t even think about the danger. You only saw Koko’s face, calm but vulnerable.

Without a second thought, you lunged forward, throwing yourself between the man with the knife and Koko.

Everything seemed to slow as the man’s eyes widened in surprise, but it was too late. The blade found its mark. You felt the cold steel cut through the air before it sank deep into your side.

You gasped, your body going rigid as the shock of pain hit you. Blood soaked through the fabric of your hoodie, warm and sticky.

Koko's eyes went wide in horror as he pushed the man away and caught you in his arms. “No, no, no!” he breathed, his voice shaking. “Why did you—”

You collapsed against him, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The room spun, and your legs wobbled beneath you. Koko was holding you tightly, his hand pressed to the wound, but it didn’t stop the blood from seeping through.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Koko muttered frantically, his usual calm completely shattered. He turned his head sharply to the others. “Get a medic! Now!”

Mikey, Sanzu, and Ran rushed over, their eyes immediately locking onto the sight of you, injured and cradled in Koko’s arms. Mikey’s face contorted with absolute fury, his usual calm replaced by a storm of rage and worry.

“Dammit, sweetheart!” Mikey shouted, his voice raw with anger. He reached out to help, but Kakucho was already there, moving with urgency, pulling you into his arms with the same intensity that was reflected in everyone else’s actions.

You could barely register the words through the dizzying pain. The room spun, your vision blurred. The only thing that cut through the haze was the realization that you’d done something reckless. You had thrown yourself into the chaos to protect someone you cared about.

As Kakucho and the others rushed you away, Mikey’s voice was filled with both fury and fear. “We told you to stay put!”

“Don’t you ever—” Rindou’s voice cracked with anger, his tone low and tight. “Ever do something like that again.”

But none of their voices could drown out the overwhelming weight of the pain, nor the cold grip of fear in your chest. You’d never seen them this shaken before. You’d never seen them so protective.

And now, you realized—this wasn’t just a game. Bonten’s world wasn’t only dangerous for them. It was dangerous for everyone involved.

The pain was blinding, and every second felt like a lifetime as Kakucho rushed through the halls with you cradled in his arms. The others followed closely behind, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the bleeding wound on your side and the dizziness that threatened to pull you under.

"Stay with me, sweetheart," Kakucho's voice was firm but laced with concern, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. His grip tightened on you as if holding you would keep you from slipping away.

Your breath hitched in pain, but you managed to force out a weak, "I’m fine…"

"You’re not fine," Mikey's voice rang out from behind, sharp and stern, but you could hear the worry buried beneath the anger. "You think you’re fine after that? After what you just did?"

Your vision swam, and the sound of their footsteps echoed, but you barely registered it. All you could hear was Mikey's voice—louder now, more desperate. "This is why I said to stay the hell in your room. You think this is some kind of game?"

As they reached the medical wing of the HQ, Kakucho didn’t hesitate. He laid you on the nearest table, the motion sending a fresh wave of pain through your body, but you couldn’t focus on that. Not when the Bonten members were standing over you, their faces a mixture of anger, relief, and concern.

Ran moved first, his usual sharpness softened by his worry. "We told you to stay back, princess," he said, his words soft but biting. "You could’ve been killed. You don’t understand how dangerous this is."

You tried to push through the pain to speak, but Sanzu cut you off, his voice low and dangerous. "Stop acting like this was some heroic stunt. You almost got yourself killed for nothing." His usual carefree attitude was nowhere to be found. There was only fear, masked by his frustration.

Rindou’s face was unreadable, but his hands were clenched at his sides, clearly holding back something. "You really thought you could just throw yourself into the middle of all this and walk away fine?" he muttered, his eyes flickering between the wound on your side and your face. "Damn it, princess…"

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air. Then, Koko stepped forward, his face pale but determined. He gently placed his hand on your uninjured arm, his voice quieter but no less intense. "You’re lucky. You should be dead right now, and that’s not something I can just ignore. Don’t you ever do something like that again."

You felt a lump form in your throat, but you couldn’t respond. Every word they said made your heart ache, but it also filled you with warmth, knowing that they cared so much.

But then, as the medics rushed in to treat your wound, Mikey moved to your side, his eyes dark with emotion. His voice, when it came, was softer, but there was no mistaking the weight of his words. "You think we’re invincible, sweetheart? You think we can protect you if you keep acting like this?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the fear of losing you.

"I don’t want to lose you, darling," he whispered, his voice rough, and his hand brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Stay with us. Don’t do something like that again."

You didn’t have the strength to say much, but you squeezed his hand, letting him know you heard him. "I won’t... I’m sorry."

There was a long silence before Kakucho’s calm voice broke through. "We’ll make sure this never happens again, sweetheart. No more slipping away. No more taking matters into your own hands."

Sanzu leaned against the wall, arms crossed, but there was something gentler in his gaze now as he looked at you. "You’ve got us watching you from now on. We don’t care if you don’t like it. You’re not going anywhere without one of us."

Koko stood at the foot of the table, still keeping a distance, but his voice was softer now. "You’re our responsibility. Don’t forget that."

You closed your eyes again, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. The gang was right—this wasn’t a world for someone like you. But you didn’t regret what you did. You would protect them if it came to it, just like they would for you.

As the medics worked on you, stitching up the wound, you felt the warmth of the Bonten members around you, their eyes never leaving you. It was a dangerous world, but in that moment, you knew you weren’t alone. They would never let you go.

___________________________________________________________________________

The world around you was a hazy blur of voices, distant footsteps, and the faint beeping of machines. Everything felt heavy, but slowly, slowly, you started to wake. Your body ached, a dull throbbing pain radiating from your side where the stitches pulled tight against your skin.

The first thing you felt, though, was warmth.

Someone was there. Sitting quietly at your bedside.

You blinked a few times, your vision clearing just enough to see a familiar figure hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands dangling between them. Mikey. His head was bowed slightly, his usually unreadable expression cracked and vulnerable in the dim light.

His eyes were locked onto you, but he looked tired—so tired—and there was a shadow in his gaze that you hadn't seen before.

You stirred a little, wincing softly at the movement, and his head snapped up immediately. His hand instinctively reached out, hovering just over your arm but not touching, as if afraid he might hurt you more.

"Sweetheart…" he breathed, his voice a low, broken whisper. Relief and guilt warred in his expression as he looked at you like you might slip away again if he dared to blink.

You didn't speak at first. You just moved your hand, slow and careful, reaching out and gently placing your palm against his cheek.

Mikey froze under your touch, his whole body going rigid. His eyes widened slightly before they fluttered shut, leaning just a little into your hand as if grounding himself.

"I'm sorry, Mikey," you whispered, your voice still rough from sleep and weakness. "I… I just wanted to protect Koko… I didn’t mean to make you worry."

A sharp breath escaped him, almost like a laugh but too bitter, too broken. His hand finally moved to cover yours, trapping it gently against his face.

"You scared the hell out of me," Mikey muttered, voice cracking with the weight of all the emotions he usually buried deep. "I thought—" He stopped himself, jaw tightening. "I thought we were gonna lose you, baby."

You blinked up at him, heart twisting painfully at the sight of him—this man who bore the weight of a bloody empire—looking so shattered over you.

"I didn’t want anyone to get hurt," you said softly, tears pricking your eyes. "I couldn't just stand there and do nothing."

"I know," Mikey whispered, his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand. "But if you ever get hurt like this again... I won’t survive it."

The silence between you was heavy but comforting, filled with all the unspoken things neither of you could put into words.

Finally, Mikey leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead. "Rest now, darling," he murmured against your skin. "We’re here. You’re safe. I promise."

Still holding your hand against his cheek, Mikey stayed by your side, refusing to move. As you drifted back to sleep, your heart ached—not from the pain, not from the injury—but from the overwhelming, fragile love that existed between you and the man who rarely let himself be this vulnerable.

And in that moment, you knew—you would do it all over again if it meant protecting them. Protecting him.

___________________________________________________________________________

One by one, they came. Each member stepped into your room with the same heavy look in their eyes—worry, guilt, and something even deeper that they couldn’t quite hide. To them, you looked fragile, breakable. A sight they never wanted to see again.

The pain still clung to you, sharp and unforgiving. Even shifting slightly in bed made your body scream in protest. But none of that mattered—not when you knew they were safe. Not when the chaos had ended.

Rindou and Ran sat quietly on either side of your bed, both of them gripping your hands like lifelines. "Don’t ever do that to us again," Rindou said, his voice tight, his thumb brushing over your knuckles without thinking. "Ever," Ran added, a rare seriousness softening his usually playful face.

You offered them a tired, small smile, squeezing their hands back as best you could. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice rough but honest. "I just... I couldn't watch Koko get hurt."

Their grips tightened a little, as if they understood, but also as if they were terrified. You had protected one of their own. The next to enter was Sanzu.

Sanzu leaned against the doorframe for a moment, just staring at you. His usual cocky grin was nowhere in sight. Instead, his jaw was tense, and there was a wild glint of guilt in his eyes.

"Angel," he muttered, stepping closer, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them. "You really scared the shit outta us, y'know that?"

You gave him a soft look, still too weak to fully smile, but you reached a hand toward him weakly. It was enough. Sanzu crossed the room in two strides, crouching down by your bed and letting you rest your hand lightly on his shoulder.

He didn't say anything more — he just stayed there for a moment, breathing you in, like making sure you were really alive. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a rare gentleness slipping through his usual chaos.

Next was Kakucho.

He entered the room quietly, a small tray in his hands with some cut fruit and a bottle of water. He looked at you like you were glass — about to shatter if he even breathed too hard.

"Here," Kakucho said softly, placing the tray on the nightstand. "You need to keep your strength up."

You gave him a tiny nod of thanks. Kakucho sat down carefully beside you, reaching out but stopping halfway, hesitating. You moved first — just brushing your fingers over his hand.

"You protected one of us," he said, voice thick with emotion. "But next time... let us protect you too, alright?"

You smiled faintly and whispered, "Okay," making him finally relax a little before he patted your hand gently and stood up, lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary before he left.

The room was silent after Kakucho left. You thought maybe it was over—that everyone had come to see you. But then you heard the lightest footsteps yet. Almost hesitant. Almost scared.

Koko stood in the doorway, frozen.

He looked... wrecked.

His hands were shaking slightly as he gripped the edge of the doorframe. His eyes were wide and glassy, guilt pouring off him in waves.

He opened his mouth to speak— Closed it— Tried again—

"I... I’m sorry," Koko finally choked out, voice barely a whisper. His face twisted in pain. "This is my fault. If you hadn't jumped in front of me—if I had been faster—you wouldn't be like this."

You saw the panic building inside him, the way he started to crumble right in front of you, guilt eating him alive. Without thinking, you lifted your hand weakly, beckoning him closer.

Koko stumbled forward, falling to his knees by your bedside, hands trembling as he reached for you but didn’t dare touch. Tears clung to his lashes.

Before he could spiral further, you leaned forward as much as you could manage — and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

A soft, lingering kiss, full of forgiveness.

Koko froze, his breath catching in his throat. And then he buried his face against your hand, shoulders shaking as he clung to you, as if anchoring himself to your warmth.

"It's not your fault," you whispered, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheek. "I’d do it again, Koko. Every single time."

It took a long moment, but eventually he nodded against your hand, trying—and failing—to stop the tears that slipped free.

___________________________________________________________________________

It took days — maybe even weeks — but slowly, surely, you began to heal. The bruises faded. The pain dulled to an ache. And finally, you were allowed out of bed.

But if you thought you were going to move around freely again... You underestimated how insanely protective Bonten was about you now.

Ran was the first to notice you trying to sneak down the hallway one morning.

"Oi, oi, princess~" he called lazily from the couch, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. He practically materialized beside you in seconds, casually slinging an arm around your shoulders like you were made of spun sugar. "Where do you think you're sneaking off to, huh? Need an escort?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling as he led you toward the kitchen — like you were royalty needing a personal guard.

Rindou wasn’t far behind.

He pretended to be nonchalant, sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee, but his sharp eyes tracked your every step. When you reached up to grab a glass from a high shelf, he was immediately behind you, grabbing it down for you without saying a word.

"Just... don’t strain yourself, okay?" he muttered, glancing away awkwardly. You caught the slight pink at the tips of his ears, and it warmed your heart.

Kakucho was even worse.

He hovered nearby constantly, offering help with anything and everything. You tried to carry a blanket from the laundry room once — just a light blanket — and Kakucho was immediately there, taking it from your hands like you were lifting a mountain.

"You’re still recovering," he said firmly, carrying it for you before you could protest.

If you even looked remotely tired, Kakucho was already steering you gently toward the couch with a stern, silent stare until you sat down.

Koko had turned into a walking checklist.

Every time you moved, he’d appear like magic with a glass of water, a snack, a pillow—whatever he thought you might need.

"You feeling dizzy? Sit down for a minute. Here. Take this," he'd say, pressing things into your hands like an anxious mother hen.

If you so much as yawned, Koko was immediately at your side, fussing over you until you were tucked into a blanket again.

You started to wonder if you were ever going to be allowed to stand without an entire security detail.

Sanzu took a different approach.

He stayed near — not hovering — but always close enough to catch you if you stumbled. He didn't smother you. Instead, he watched, sharp and quiet, stepping in only when absolutely necessary.

Still, you could feel his gaze like a tether — like an invisible thread connecting you. When you got too tired, Sanzu would wordlessly offer his arm for you to lean on, guiding you back to the couch without a word. And sometimes, when he thought you were asleep, you’d catch him brushing your hair back from your face so, so gently.

Mikey wasn’t like the others. He didn’t hover. He didn’t fuss. He didn’t bring you water or pillows or snacks.

Instead... he watched.

From the doorway. From the hallway. From the corner of the room — silent, unmoving, his dark eyes tracking your every move like a hawk.

Whenever you laughed softly with Ran, or let Koko adjust your blanket, or leaned tiredly against Kakucho’s shoulder... Mikey was there. Always watching. Always quiet. Like a ghost who couldn't bear to step too close.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care. It was that he cared too much.

He was terrified.

Terrified that if he touched you, he might break you again. Terrified that the world could hurt you — and that he, somehow, hadn't been strong enough to stop it last time.

Mikey’s heart was still bleeding from the sight of you lying there that night — blood staining your clothes, eyes fluttering shut.

That memory haunted him. And it made him too scared to reach for you now.

But you noticed. Of course you did.

You noticed the way his fists would clench and unclench at his sides when you winced in pain. The way he lingered at the doorway for hours without coming in. The way his voice — when he did speak — was so soft it barely existed.

"You're okay now, right...?" he asked you once, late at night, standing just outside your room. His voice cracked mid-sentence, like he didn’t believe his own words.

You smiled softly. "Yeah, Mikey. I’m okay."

His shoulders sagged — just a little — with relief.

But he still didn’t step inside.

Not yet.

___________________________________________________________________________

It happened one evening, while the others were gathered in the living room.

You were wrapped in a big blanket, sitting curled up between Ran and Kakucho, your body still aching but your heart warm. Rindou had brought you a cup of hot tea. Sanzu was stretched out lazily nearby, keeping an eye on you even while pretending to be half-asleep. Koko sat stiffly in the armchair, glancing your way every few seconds like he was making sure you were really there.

And Mikey... Mikey was standing in the corner.

Watching. Silent. Still not coming close.

Your chest ached seeing him like that — so distant, so afraid. So you made a choice.

You pushed the blanket aside slowly, standing up carefully on unsteady legs. Immediately, the room shifted — Ran and Kakucho reaching to steady you, Rindou already halfway off the couch. But you shook your head gently.

You walked — slow but determined — straight toward Mikey.

His dark eyes widened slightly as you approached, but he didn’t move. He just watched you with a fragile, broken kind of hope.

Without a word, you reached for him, taking his hand in yours. It trembled slightly in your grasp.

You gave him a small, reassuring smile.

And finally — finally — Mikey moved.

He pulled you into his arms so carefully, like you were something sacred. He sank down onto the couch, keeping you cradled in his lap, tucking you into his chest like he couldn’t bear to let you go ever again.

You let out a soft, happy sigh, nuzzling against him as he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in.

The room went very still, the others watching quietly with soft, relieved smiles.

Mikey's voice was barely a whisper against your hair. "Missed you, angel..."

You smiled against his chest, feeling his heart beating fast against your cheek.

Lifting your head, you cupped his face gently between your hands. His eyes met yours — so full of emotion it almost broke you.

And then, you leaned up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

It was tender, sweet — full of everything you couldn’t put into words.

When you pulled back, Mikey just stared at you for a second, stunned. Then he smiled — a real, small smile, the first one you'd seen from him in days.

"Thank you, baby..." he whispered, forehead resting against yours.

But before you could sink deeper into the quiet moment, a chorus of dramatic voices broke out around you:

"Hey! No fair!" Ran called from across the room, grinning wide.

"If Mikey gets a kiss, I want one too," Rindou muttered, crossing his arms with a mock pout.

"I was the one who fed you all that soup!" Kakucho added, faking offense.

Koko, surprisingly, didn’t say anything — but the way he looked at you, eyes wide and pleading, said enough.

Sanzu just smirked lazily, tilting his head. "C'mon, angel. Don’t play favorites now."

You giggled softly — a real, bright sound that made all of them relax instantly.

Still cuddled up in Mikey’s lap, you smiled at the rest of them, warm and teasing:

"Fine, fine. Line up, boys."

Ran practically jumped over the back of the couch to get to you first, while the others laughed, the room finally — finally — feeling whole again.

___________________________________________________________________________

You couldn’t stop laughing softly as they all lined up, half-teasing, half-serious, waiting for their turn like a bunch of overgrown kids.

Mikey still held you protectively in his lap, arms loose around your waist, not letting you go far — but he allowed you to lean toward the others.

Ran was first, of course.

He knelt dramatically in front of you like some prince from a fairytale, smirking up at you. "Alright, princess. Give me your best shot."

You giggled, leaning forward to press a quick, playful kiss to his forehead.

Ran clutched his chest like he’d been shot. "So cruel," he whined dramatically, falling backward onto the floor, making everyone laugh.

Rindou came next, grumbling under his breath.

"Che," he muttered, cheeks slightly pink. "Ran’s forehead gets a kiss? I better get more than that."

You smiled warmly at him and reached out, cupping his cheek before kissing him sweetly on the tip of his nose.

Rindou froze like a statue, blinking in stunned silence before muttering, "Tch... whatever," but you caught the shy little smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he sat back down.

Kakucho approached with that quiet, steady presence of his.

"You don't have to if you're tired," he said gently, ever the protector.

You shook your head, touched by his kindness, and leaned in to place a soft, lingering kiss on his temple.

Kakucho closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out slowly, like you had just given him a blessing. He ruffled your hair softly before moving aside, a rare, tiny smile playing on his lips.

Sanzu swaggered up next, grinning wide.

"Don’t hold back, pretty girl," he teased, tilting his head invitingly. "I can handle a real kiss."

You rolled your eyes affectionately and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth — just a soft brush of your lips.

Sanzu’s grin widened like the Cheshire Cat. "Tease," he whispered, winking at you as he sauntered away, laughing under his breath.

And then... there was Koko.

He hesitated — hovering nearby, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes flickering nervously. You smiled, ready to give him a kiss on the cheek too, but the moment you leaned toward him —

he moved first.

Quickly, almost desperately, Koko grabbed your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly toward him.

"Wait," he mumbled, voice low and rough. "I... I want a real one."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

Not rushed. Not rough. But deep — full of everything he was too scared to say aloud. A soft, trembling kiss that told you how guilty, how grateful, and how scared he had been.

You melted into him for a moment, feeling his hand trembling slightly where it rested at your waist.

When Koko finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, eyes wide and glistening.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. "For everything."

You cupped his face gently, smiling up at him.

"You don’t have to apologize," you whispered back. "I’m okay. You’re okay. That’s all that matters."

Koko let out a shaky breath, forehead resting against yours for a long moment before he finally, reluctantly, let you go.

Behind you, Mikey’s arms tightened protectively around you again, pulling you back into his lap where you belonged. The others gathered close — not just friends, not just protectors.

Family.

Your heart felt so full you thought it might burst.

And for the first time in what felt like forever — You felt completely, utterly safe.

___________________________________________________________________________

The weeks following your injury had been both slow and emotional. Day by day, the pain in your body faded, and the tenderness of your injury became nothing more than a distant memory. You were healing, both physically and emotionally, with Bonten’s constant care around you. They were always there, watching over you, not just as a form of protection but because they cared.

Each of them had their own way of helping you heal — Mikey was always by your side, keeping an eye on you with his quiet intensity. Sanzu was relentlessly teasing you to keep your spirits high, while Kakucho was always the quiet one, ready to support you in any way you needed. Ran and Rindou were constantly checking in, making sure you were okay and offering their time for anything you needed. Koko, always overly cautious, was the one who hovered the most, making sure you had everything you needed.

And you loved them all equally.

As the days went by, you could feel yourself growing stronger. The ache in your body was gone, and while Mikey still held that protective, almost possessive gaze when he looked at you, it wasn’t because you were fragile anymore. You were healed, and yet, they still looked at you like you were the most precious thing in their world.

Tonight was special, though. Bonten had a meeting with an important client at a club, and Mikey insisted that you come along, though not just for business. He wanted you there because, despite your recovery, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being away from him. He needed to keep you close, to protect you. But it wasn’t just Mikey — the others felt the same way.

The dress they had picked out for you was simple in its elegance but stunning all the same. A long black gown, sleek and sophisticated, clung to your curves without being over the top. The deep neckline was bold but not too revealing, the fabric soft and flowing as it swished with each movement. The dress shimmered under the lights, and as you stood before the Bonten members, you could feel all their eyes on you.

Mikey was the first to glance your way, and for a moment, the protective instinct in his eyes softened into something else — something that spoke of deep pride. He didn’t just see you as his responsibility; he saw you as someone he cherished and adored. But when his gaze met yours, he didn’t say anything. He just pulled you close, his arm winding around your waist, a silent promise of protection.

Ran and Rindou exchanged a look, both of them impressed. Ran was the first to speak, his usual cocky grin in place as he made his way over to you. “Well, well, well… Look who’s looking like a million bucks tonight. How are we supposed to focus on business with you in the room, huh?”

You laughed softly, feeling the attention from them but also feeling their affection — not just Mikey’s, but from all of them. You weren’t just his — you were theirs, equally cherished by each one.

Sanzu, ever the teasing one, flashed you a mischievous grin. “I can’t blame the client for being distracted. I’d be too if I had someone like you next to me.” His voice was playful, but his eyes spoke of something deeper — the protective streak all the Bonten members had for you.

Kakucho was next, his usual calm demeanor even more pronounced tonight. He nodded at you with a rare, soft smile, and his deep voice was filled with sincerity. “You look incredible. No one will dare hurt you with us here.”

Koko, still looking a little unsure, approached hesitantly. But when he saw you, his usual reserve melted, and he was struck silent, staring at you like he couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked. When he finally found his voice, it was barely a whisper, “You’re… breathtaking.” His words weren’t just about your appearance; they were a mixture of awe and admiration.

___________________________________________________________________________

The night air was crisp as Bonten’s sleek black cars pulled up to the exclusive club. The flashing lights from the club’s entrance illuminated the faces of the Bonten members as they stepped out, their presence commanding the attention of everyone around. But none of their usual confidence or intensity was more apparent than Mikey’s, who, despite his usual composed demeanor, couldn’t help but glance toward you as you exited the car.

Dressed to perfection, you were the center of attention — in a long, elegant black gown, your every step exuding confidence and grace. The Bonten members kept close to you as you entered the club, the heavy beats of music vibrating through the air. Your heart raced for a moment, but the steady presence of Mikey and the others helped ground you.

Ran, ever the smooth talker, flashed a grin at a few onlookers, making sure everyone saw who you were with. “Let’s not waste any time,” he said, guiding you through the entrance. Rindou, his hand protectively placed at your back, led the way. The others followed close, as if forming a protective barrier around you.

Inside the club, the lights were dim but vibrant, casting an atmospheric glow across the room. The pulse of the music, the clink of glasses, and the murmur of conversation filled the space as Bonten moved through it. Their path was clear — the private lounge they had reserved was waiting for them, a secluded area tucked away from the main crowd. The VIP area, where only the most important clients and their guests were allowed.

As you entered the private lounge, the soft plush of the couches and dim lighting made the space feel like a haven. Mikey, always aware of your comfort, guided you to one of the couches. “Take a seat,” he murmured, gesturing toward a space next to him. But it was clear — you were the priority, not the client they were about to meet.

Sanzu, his usual mischievous smirk on his lips, followed you and made sure you were settled. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said lightly, his eyes glinting. He couldn’t help but admire the way the gown hugged your figure, the way the soft glow of the lights made you seem even more ethereal.

As you sat down on the couch, the Bonten members took their usual positions, but it was clear that their attention kept drifting to you.

Kakucho, always the quiet one, couldn’t help but glance in your direction. His eyes softened when he saw you adjusting your position, curling up a little for comfort. You looked so at ease, yet there was still a vulnerability in you — something that made him want to protect you all the more. He kept his distance for now, but there was an unmistakable warmth in his gaze whenever he looked at you.

Meanwhile, Koko, who had been quieter than usual, watched you with a look that could only be described as reverent. His usual hesitation in social settings was gone as he admired how effortlessly you carried yourself. Every little movement, every slight shift in your position, seemed to captivate him, and he couldn’t stop staring. “You look stunning,” he said quietly, almost to himself, though everyone in the room could hear the sincerity in his voice.

As the group settled into the lounge, the others all began to relax, but none could fully ignore how you had transformed the space. Mikey, sitting beside you, couldn’t help but look at you with pride. He had been adamant that you come along tonight — not because of business, but because of his own need to keep you safe. But as he observed you now, there was a deeper sense of admiration that filled his chest. You weren’t just his responsibility anymore. You were theirs — a part of their world, just as much as they were a part of yours.

Ran stretched out on one of the chairs, his eyes glancing toward you occasionally, an amused grin playing on his lips. “It’s amazing how you make this place seem like a dream,” he remarked teasingly, though the admiration in his tone was undeniable.

Rindou, leaning against a table, looked over at you with a mix of affection and pride. “Mikey’s right — we couldn’t keep you hidden in the back. Everyone here’s going to notice you anyway.”

The minutes passed, and while Mikey chatted with the others about the meeting and the client they were waiting for, the conversation naturally drifted back to you. But it wasn’t just the way you looked that kept them mesmerized. It was the way you fit in with them, the way you belonged. You weren’t just their guest; you were an integral part of their world.

As time passed, the other members shifted slightly in their seats, eyes occasionally drifting toward you. They weren’t being obvious, but the admiration was clear. There was a softness to the way they looked at you — a mix of pride, affection, and protectiveness. They were all so aware of how much you had become a part of their lives.

Koko, still sitting closest to you, leaned forward slightly, his fingers lightly grazing your hand as he whispered, “Don’t think you’ll get away without a little attention, darling. You’re practically glowing tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of their attention settling over you like a blanket. Despite the intensity of their world, the dangerous games they played, they had always made sure you were cared for — but tonight, it was different. Tonight, it was about more than just protecting you.

It was about admiring you.

_________________________________________________________________________

The minutes stretched on as the Bonten members waited for their client to arrive. The lounge’s ambient lighting and the low hum of conversation filled the space, but for you, the minutes felt like hours. You had already become accustomed to the attention from the Bonten members, each one equally protective and affectionate, but now that the client hadn’t arrived yet, the stillness of the moment had you feeling a bit restless.

You leaned back on the plush couch, swirling the contents of your drink in your hand. The glass was cool, refreshing — the tang of citrus a sharp contrast to the heaviness in the air as Mikey, Ran, and Rindou discussed business in low tones. Kakucho, ever the stoic figure, stood by the entrance, his eyes scanning the room, always alert. Koko, too, had his focus split between you and the conversation. But you, well, you were beginning to feel a bit bored.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Sanzu’s voice came from behind you, breaking the silence. He leaned over the back of the couch, a playful grin on his lips. “You’re not getting bored already, are you?”

You chuckled softly, glancing over at him. “I’ve been sitting here for what feels like ages. The client isn’t even here yet.”

Sanzu’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he pushed off the couch, his hands in his pockets. “Well, if you’re getting bored, you can always go dance. The music’s not bad, and you deserve to let loose a little. Mikey said you’re free to have some fun tonight.” He raised an eyebrow, daring you. “I’ll go with you, of course. I’ll be your personal bodyguard for the night.”

You raised an eyebrow, considering the offer. Dancing? It had been years since you’d been to a club, let alone danced. But there was something tempting about it, the idea of getting lost in the music, even if only for a little while. And you knew that with Sanzu by your side, you’d be safe. He had a way of making everything feel more carefree, and his protective streak, even though it was playful, was something you could always count on.

After a brief pause, you finally agreed. “Alright, let’s do it. It’s been ages since I danced.”

Sanzu grinned, his expression lighting up at the idea. “That’s the spirit! Let’s get you out there, sweetheart.”

The music thudded through the club’s speakers, the deep bass vibrating in your chest as you stepped onto the dance floor. Sanzu walked beside you, his proximity enough to ensure you were safe but still allowing you to enjoy yourself. The crowd pulsed with energy, but you were lost in the beat, feeling the rhythm take over. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed dancing until now. It was freeing, intoxicating even, and you couldn’t help but smile, letting the music guide you.

But then, like a shadow, a man appeared out of nowhere, his eyes scanning you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He sidled up to you, clearly too bold and a little too drunk.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he slurred, his voice loud enough to cut through the music. “Mind if I buy you a drink? Or maybe we can dance… I’m sure you’re too pretty to be alone.”

You instinctively took a step back, uncomfortable with how close he was getting, but the stranger wasn’t taking the hint. His hand reached for your arm, brushing it lightly, but it felt too forceful — possessive.

“Hey, let go,” you murmured, trying to brush him off.

But the man didn’t listen. He leaned in closer, completely disregarding your personal space. That’s when you looked up at Sanzu, your unease clear. You didn’t need to say a word — Sanzu had already noticed. His expression darkened, and his posture shifted, the playful, teasing attitude replaced with something colder.

Sanzu stepped forward, positioning himself between you and the stranger. His voice dropped into a low, dangerous tone as he addressed the man.

“Didn’t you hear her?” Sanzu’s voice was laced with a cold edge, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto the stranger. “She said ‘no.’ I suggest you walk away. Now.”

The man, clearly intoxicated and not used to being talked to in such a way, scoffed and took a step forward. “What’s your problem, man? She’s just having fun.”

Sanzu didn’t hesitate. His hand shot out, gripping the guy by the collar and lifting him off the ground with surprising strength. “My problem is that you don’t seem to understand boundaries,” Sanzu growled, his eyes flashing with fury. “If you don’t back the hell off, I’m going to make sure you regret it.”

The stranger’s face drained of color as he struggled against Sanzu’s grip, but he didn’t stand a chance. Sanzu’s gaze was like ice, and the threat in his voice was unmistakable. He gave the man a little shake, just enough to make him realize the situation he was in.

“Now,” Sanzu continued, his voice cold and unwavering, “I think you’re going to walk away, and you’re going to do it quietly. Got it?”

The man nodded, eyes wide with fear, and without another word, Sanzu released him. The man stumbled backward, muttering something under his breath as he quickly made his way through the crowd, his drunken bravado replaced with clear regret.

Sanzu turned to you then, his posture immediately softening as he checked in on you. His hand rested on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle, though his eyes were still sharp and protective. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice now tinged with concern. His eyes flicked over you, scanning for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, your heart still racing, but you felt safe with him by your side. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Sanzu. That was... kind of intense.”

Sanzu’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was no playfulness in it — just a quiet, steely determination. “I don’t mess around when it comes to people trying to mess with you,” he said simply, his gaze softening ever so slightly as he looked you over. “You’re my responsibility, sweetheart. Don’t forget that.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a little relieved and comforted by his fierce protectiveness. “I won’t. Thank you for having my back.”

Sanzu’s grin returned, though it was still edged with that protective fierceness. “Of course. Now, let’s grab another drink, yeah? You’re not letting that idiot ruin your night.”

As you walked back to the lounge, Sanzu’s hand never left your shoulder, guiding you through the crowd. There was a protective warmth in his touch, the kind that only came from someone who cared about you deeply. And as much as you had wanted a carefree night, you realized that with Sanzu around, you didn’t have to worry about a thing.

___________________________________________________________________________

The moment you stepped back into the lounge, the room seemed to shift. You could feel the eyes of the Bonten members on you, but this time, it was different. The way they looked at you wasn’t just a passing glance; it was an appreciation, a realization of your strength. Their expressions softened just a bit, almost like they were seeing you in a new light. But then, there was also that strange tension in the air, as if the room was holding its breath.

Mikey, sitting at the head of the table, watched you closely as you re-entered, his eyes narrowing slightly as if studying you more carefully than before. He was proud of you, but there was something else — an instinctive protectiveness that flared within him, especially as he noticed the shift in the air.

“Welcome back,” Ran said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair, eyes flicking over to you with a casual air.

“Welcome back Princess,” Rindou added with a raised brow, his usual teasing tone still present but softer, recognizing your strength.

Kakucho nodded at you silently, his usual stoic face giving a subtle hint of approval, while Sanzu looked at you with a mix of pride and something deeper — admiration, maybe.

But the client... the client couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and it was clear he was more than just impressed. His gaze was practically leering, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched you with a predatory interest. You felt the weight of it immediately, but you held your head high, standing firm despite the discomfort.

Mikey’s expression shifted, his gaze flickering from the client to you, then back again. He could see the way the client was watching you, the way his eyes lingered a little too long. His protective instincts flared again, but he didn’t say anything immediately. He wanted to see how things would unfold.

But the client, emboldened by the silence and the alcohol in his system, leaned back in his chair and chuckled, breaking the tension in the room with his next words.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice thick with arrogance. “I didn’t realize Bonten had such a beautiful piece of property.” He looked directly at Mikey, his smirk widening. “You know, Mikey... I’ve been thinking. How about you let me take her off your hands for a night? She’s a real pretty slut, don’t you think?”

The words hit the room like a bomb. The silence that followed was deafening. Everyone’s gaze shot immediately to the client, but it wasn’t surprise on their faces — it was anger, disgust, and most of all, the unmistakable glint of protective fury.

Mikey’s face darkened immediately, his jaw tightening as his eyes locked onto the client with an icy stare. He didn’t speak at first. He didn’t need to. The threat in his eyes was enough to make even the bravest man reconsider his next words.

But you weren’t going to wait for Mikey to respond. You had already stood up, the same quiet determination in your eyes that had shown itself before. Your hands curled into fists, but your expression remained calm — controlled.

“I’m not a ‘piece of property,’” you said coolly, your voice steady despite the storm brewing in the room. “And I’m certainly no one’s ‘slut.’”

The client laughed again, clearly thinking you were just trying to play it off. But that laugh faltered as he saw the look in your eyes — the same one the Bonten members had seen in you earlier. The one that told him you weren’t someone to mess with.

Sanzu’s hand shifted instinctively, ready to step forward at the first sign of trouble, but Mikey was already on his feet, his voice calm but low, like a snake preparing to strike.

“You don’t speak about her like that again,” Mikey said, his tone quiet but dangerous. “And you better learn your place, because Bonten doesn’t tolerate disrespect like that.”

The client’s face faltered for a moment, but then, in a show of arrogance, he tried to brush it off. “Oh, come on, Mikey. It was just a joke. I was only asking...”

You didn’t wait for him to finish. In one smooth motion, you stepped forward, the knife Mikey had given you now in your hand. You held it with the ease of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Without hesitation, you shoved it in the client’s direction, pressing it dangerously close to his throat, making sure he could feel the cold steel against his skin.

“Jokes like that aren’t funny,” you said, your voice low and steely. “Now apologize. Or things will get worse for you.”

The room was deathly still. The Bonten members watched closely — some with glimmers of approval, others simply waiting to see how it would unfold. Mikey’s eyes never left you, though his expression had softened slightly. This was the person he had chosen to protect — strong, unyielding, and willing to stand up for herself without hesitation.

The client’s bravado crumbled, but then something ugly sparked inside him. His rage boiled over, and he suddenly screamed, his voice echoing harshly against the lounge walls. "You—! You think you can talk to me like that, you slut?! You think Bonten can just do whatever it wants with me?!"

His words hung heavy in the air, thickening the already suffocating tension in the room.

Without flinching, you moved. Calmly, almost slowly, you pulled the knife free again — only to ram it into his hand with precise, merciless force. The client's scream tore through the silence, a brutal, satisfying sound that made you smirk in grim satisfaction as you watched him writhe.

"You little—" he started, fury and panic twisting his features.

But before he could spit another word or you could act again, Sanzu moved. His hand, already twitching in response, was the first to act. He stepped forward in a flash, his usual teasing demeanor completely gone. His face was cold, lethal, a predator locked onto his prey.

He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, stopping you with surprising gentleness, pulling you back just enough. "Easy now, doll," he murmured lowly, his voice a dangerous contrast to the chaos, while his sharp eyes stayed pinned to the wounded man before him.

Sanzu’s hand was steady on your shoulder, keeping you close but careful not to push you harshly. His gaze flicked to Mikey for just a split second — a silent, wordless conversation passing between them.

Mikey, who had remained seated and eerily quiet through it all, finally moved.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he extended a hand toward you. No words were needed. You felt Sanzu gently guide you toward him, and you stepped without hesitation into Mikey’s waiting arms.

He pulled you into his lap with a firmness that left no room for protest, wrapping his arms protectively around you, cradling you against his chest as if shielding you from the rest of the world. His chin rested lightly atop your head, his touch careful, yet you could feel the tension vibrating through his body — a leash barely holding back the storm inside him.

"You did good, pretty girl," Mikey murmured low enough that only you could hear. "But no more getting your hands dirty, yeah?" His voice was soft, but the weight behind it was heavy — not a command, but a plea.

Around you, the others stood like silent shadows.

Ran let out a low whistle, smirking a little, though even he looked impressed. "She’s got better aim than half the guys I’ve seen." "Yeah, but don't encourage her," Kakucho muttered, crossing his arms and glancing at the still-screaming client with a frown. His protective instincts were clear in the tightness of his posture.

Rindou chuckled under his breath, exchanging a look with Koko, who for once looked more concerned than amused. "She’s scary when she wants to be," Rindou said lightly, but there was pride in his voice too.

Koko, still pale from the earlier chaos, shook his head. "You scared the hell out of me," he muttered toward you, but the corners of his mouth lifted into a small, relieved smile. "Don’t do that again, angel."

Meanwhile, the client clutched his bleeding hand, whimpering and cursing under his breath. He looked utterly pathetic now — a far cry from the arrogant man who had dared to insult you minutes before.

Mikey lifted his gaze slowly, staring down at the client with eyes as cold as winter ice.

"Consider this your only warning," Mikey said softly, almost sweetly — which somehow made it all the more terrifying. "You don’t touch what belongs to us. You don't even look the wrong way."

Sanzu grinned lazily beside you, his usual dangerous spark returning to his eyes. "If you’re lucky," Sanzu added, almost sing-song, "you might get to leave with that hand still attached."

The client barely nodded, his face pale and sweaty with fear.

Mikey finally turned his full attention back to you, loosening his hold just slightly so you could shift more comfortably in his lap. You leaned back against him, relaxing into his warmth. His hands were steady, strong — a silent promise that nothing and no one would hurt you again.

And for a moment, surrounded by the lethal men of Bonten, their unwavering loyalty and deadly protectiveness wrapped around you like armor, you felt completely and utterly safe.

___________________________________________________________________________

The tension in the room slowly ebbed, though it never truly disappeared — not when it came to Bonten. But you... you had done what you needed. You had defended yourself. Defended your place at their side.

The adrenaline, however, was wearing off fast. The steady thump of Mikey’s heart against your back, the soft rumble of the others' voices, the weight of the room finally settling — it all made your body feel heavier, your eyes growing lidded and slow.

You barely registered Mikey’s arm tightening around you as you slumped slightly in his hold. He glanced down and caught the tiny yawn you tried — and failed — to hide.

“She’s falling asleep," Rindou murmured with a quiet laugh, nudging Ran, who only smirked knowingly.

"Figures," Ran drawled. "Little fighter spent all her energy. 'Bout time we take her home."

Mikey didn't say anything — just stood slowly, adjusting you in his arms with a gentleness that contrasted the hard set of his jaw. The others surrounded you like an unbreakable wall as they made their way out of the club, their presence ensuring no one dared even look your way.

By the time they reached the sleek black car waiting outside, you were already half-asleep, your head tucked under Mikey’s chin.

The door swung open smoothly, and Mikey, reluctant but knowing he needed to drive back, handed you carefully to Kakucho.

"Here," Mikey said simply, and Kakucho nodded, accepting you into his arms without hesitation.

You barely stirred as Kakucho settled you into his lap, one strong arm wrapped protectively around your waist, the other resting lightly across your thighs to keep you steady. He leaned back against the seat, making sure you were nestled securely against him.

"You did good, little one," Kakucho whispered near your ear, his voice soft enough that only you could hear — not that you were awake enough to respond.

The engine hummed to life, the smooth motion of the car pulling away from the club lulling you into deeper sleep almost immediately. Kakucho shifted just slightly, careful not to wake you, and the others fell into a rare, comfortable silence, the city lights blurring past the windows.

By the time they arrived at the penthouse, you were completely limp with exhaustion.

Sanzu hopped out first, opening the door, while Ran and Rindou moved ahead to clear the way. Mikey followed behind, his gaze flickering between you and the building like he was calculating every possible threat.

Kakucho carried you inside with quiet pride, as if he were holding something precious — which, to Bonten, you absolutely were.

He didn't hand you off to anyone else. Instead, he brought you directly to your bedroom, pushing the door open carefully with his foot. The soft lighting made the room glow in warm tones, and Kakucho gently laid you down onto your plush bed.

You stirred just a little, a tiny whimper leaving your lips at the loss of warmth.

Immediately, Mikey was there, crouching beside the bed, brushing hair from your face. "Shh, it’s okay, angel," he whispered. "You’re home now."

Someone — probably Koko or Ran — pulled a thick, soft blanket up over you, tucking it carefully around your small frame.

You felt the ghost of a kiss — first on your forehead, then your temple — though you were too far gone to tell who it was. Their presence, their warmth, their safety — it wrapped around you tighter than any blanket.

You smiled faintly in your sleep.

You were home. You were safe. You were loved.

And Bonten would make sure it stayed that way.

___________________________________________________________________________

The soft morning light spilled gently through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden, warm glow. You stirred slowly under the covers, the familiar ache in your muscles much lighter now — barely there, just a reminder of everything that had happened.

As you blinked sleepily awake, you became aware of soft murmuring voices just outside your door. And then, before you could even sit up, the door creaked open carefully.

Ran peeked his head inside first, grinning like he was up to something. "Look who's finally awake," he said teasingly, stepping fully into the room with a tray in his hands — stacked with your favorite breakfast foods.

Behind him trailed Rindou, Sanzu, Kakucho, Koko — and, finally, Mikey, who lingered just a step back, his dark eyes steady on you.

"Morning, princess," Sanzu drawled with a lazy smirk. "Or should I say... our little assassin?"

You let out a sleepy groan, burying your face into the pillow for a second before peeking out at them. "I don't even remember half of it," you mumbled.

Koko snorted, setting a drink down beside you. "You stabbed a client in the hand and made him cry. Then you fell asleep on Mikey like nothing happened. It was..." — he shrugged dramatically — "iconic."

Ran slid the tray onto your lap and plopped onto the bed beside you, careful not to jostle you too much. "You should’ve seen his face. Priceless."

Rindou leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. "You’re lucky we didn’t record it. Would’ve made a great Christmas present."

Despite their teasing, you could feel the tenderness in their voices — the deep relief that you were okay, smiling and alive and here with them.

Kakucho was the quietest, simply reaching out to lightly brush a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping back, letting you eat in peace.

Mikey finally moved closer, sitting down carefully on the edge of your bed. He didn't say much — he rarely needed to — but the look he gave you was everything: pride, relief, and something deeper, almost reverent.

"You did good," he said softly, voice only for you.

You smiled warmly at him — at all of them. They weren’t just your protectors. They weren’t just Bonten. They were your family.

As you ate, they stayed with you, lounging around the room — telling stories, teasing each other, making plans for later — like nothing bad could ever touch this little world they built around you.

You knew dangers would come again. You knew life with Bonten would never be simple. But in that moment, in that morning light, surrounded by the only people who ever truly understood you, you realized something important:

You weren’t alone. You were stronger with them. And they would burn the entire world down before letting anything happen to you again.

You were theirs — and they were yours.

Forever.

___________________________________________________________________________

A Few Weeks Later

Life at the Bonten headquarters had settled into a new kind of normal. Meetings, negotiations, the occasional clean-up job — and you, weaving through it all like you belonged there all along.

One evening, after a long, lazy dinner, you were curled up in the lounge with the boys, everyone relaxed for once. Ran was sprawled across an entire couch like a cat. Rindou and Sanzu were battling in a video game. Koko and Kakucho were talking quietly at the bar. And Mikey? Mikey was sitting close behind you on the couch, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt.

It was the kind of peaceful night that felt rare and precious.

"So," Ran drawled suddenly, stretching his arms over his head, "when are we giving our girl a Bonten tattoo?"

The room froze for a second.

You blinked. "Wait. What?"

Rindou immediately jumped in, grinning. "You are basically one of us now. Makes sense."

Sanzu threw his controller down dramatically. "Shit, yeah. We’ll ink you up right next to Mikey’s if you want. Make it official."

You laughed, half-flustered, half-thrilled. "I think stabbing a client bought me enough street cred already."

Koko chuckled behind his drink. "True. But a little Bonten tattoo would be hot. Maybe right here—" He teasingly poked your hip, making you squeal and squirm away.

Kakucho gave a rare, boyish smile. "You could design your own. We wouldn't force it... but it'd mean you're family. Officially."

You looked up at Mikey, who was watching you with that small, secretive smile he reserved only for you.

"Your choice," he said quietly, his voice vibrating against your back. "You’re already ours. Tattoo or not."

Your heart twisted warmly in your chest. They didn’t need ink to claim you. But... the idea of having a permanent reminder — something you chose — something that said you belonged to this family you had fought for — It stirred something fierce and soft inside you.

"I'll think about it," you said, smiling like you were hiding a secret.

Ran immediately whooped. "She’s thinking about it! That's basically a yes!"

Rindou leaned back, smirking. "Sanzu, you owe me ¥10,000. I said she'd say yes."

Sanzu groaned and tossed a pillow at him.

As chaos broke out again — Ran trying to convince you to get your tattoo on your thigh ("It’s hot, trust me"), Rindou suggesting something subtle behind your ear, Koko offering to pay for the best artist in Tokyo — you leaned back into Mikey’s warmth, laughing until your stomach hurt, feeling more at home than you ever had in your life.

You were Bonten's heart now.

And they'd make damn sure the whole world knew it.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your area ch 5 part 1 of 2

Masterpost

Jason found himself back in the real world (the human world?) in fuckin Star City. Christ. Luckily, his electronics came on line. They weren’t fried, then. He looked up the nearest zeta tube and booked it over there, not eager to get caught in another hero’s city.  The worst part would be that Batman would inevitably smooth it out on his behalf and go growl at Queen for having the audacity to try to arrest him. Jason did not need to get bailed out by his asshole Dad, thanks. 

He wasn’t worried about Green Arrow and his crew per se, but it would be a shitstorm he didn’t need even if he managed to get out. 

Not when he was so laden down with books that he had unfolded both dufflebags stored in his suit, for fuckin sure. Sure, they’d make phenomenal weapons if he swung ‘em around, but the books deserved better than that. 

His comm forced itself on as soon as he came through to Gotham.

“You’re back!” Barbie said, breathless. “You’re alive? Right?”

Jason snorted. The street he stepped onto wasn’t fully dark yet. Patrol probably hadn’t started. “I’m alive,” he confirmed. “How long was I gone?”

“About ten hours,” she said.

Oh. Jason pursed his lips. It wasn’t dusk, it was dawn. “Tonight must have been fun,” he said lightly. 

She laughed darkly. “You’re about to find out how fun it was.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Hey, no-”

Oracle opened up a line to what was probably every vigilante in Gotham city. “Hood is back and safe,” she announced, gleeful about throwing him to the wolves. “He’s on 2nd and Grim, for anyone who wants to drop by and tell him how much they missed him.” 

Jason cursed a blue streak and started off at a dead sprint as he reached for his grappling hook. It was a lot slower than usual since he was swinging two enormous bags of books. …Could he even grapple with these? Goddamn. He’d be over the weight limit. He cursed even harder and put the hook back.

“Heading west,” Oracle said cheerfully, and then clicked off a bare instant before he manually mashed the damn power button on his setup. Nope, nope, nope, he was not dealing with this shit tonight. 

He made it about four blocks and was so goddamn close to a safehouse (one of Bruce’s, but he could put it on lockdown) when a wailing blue and black blur emerged from the skies.

“We thought you died,” Nightwing warbled at him. Jesus fucking christ, he had been crying. His face was wet. Jason tried to duck away but he was too laden. He struggled against the hold for a few futile seconds before he went limp.

Dick sniffled into his chest. 

“Shut up,” Jason said, shoulders nearly up to his ears. He didn’t need to hear any criticism of how he had handled that cult situation, or any grieving about how this had made people think of the time he got brutally beaten to death. 

“I’m not saying anything,” Dick mumbled. He gave one more squeeze before withdrawing. “Huge relief to see you in the-what do you have there?” He dove down into the bags of books before Jason could kick him away. He was already prying the bag open by the time he asked. Jason tried to pull it away but it was impossible to keep Dick’s grabby hands out of your business.

“He went to a library,” Nightwing announced to the comms, outraged. “We thought he was dead and he went to a library!”

Someone laughed loudly on the comms. The brat turned on his comms explicitly to scoff.

“Did you rob a library?” Dick’s voice went high. “There’s so much here!” He flipped things around. “There- these are the same book? Hood, why do you have so many copies of the same book?”

“They’re not the same,” Jason snapped. “Get your grubby hands off of them!” He took his things back and edged away, glowering at his dumb asshole brother. “If you came to gawk, you did it, so now fuck off. You can clearly see that I am fine.”

“Jason,” Batman rasped, like the goddamn creep he was. Jason spun to see that he’d come up from behind. He lurched closer. He looked like hell. His knuckles were bloody and his pulse was jumping in his throat.

“No names in masks,” Jason snapped. He put his hands up to keep Bruce at a distance. “That’s your own rule, old man!”

It was no use. He endured the bullshit while his dumbass Dad made sure he wasn’t dead again, but he drew the line at letting Bruce clutch him and probably sob under his sweaty cowl like a weirdo. 

“I should have stayed there,” Jason grumbled. He patted at Bruce’s back. “There, there, asshole. You’re fine.”

[marlynnofmany]

Little Legends

Eggskin leaned out of the medbay with both scaly hands full of disassembled electronics. “Are you free to run a quick errand?” they asked with the air of someone hoping the answer was yes.

“Sure,” I said, stopping in the hall. “Did something break?”

“I thought it was fixable, but no.” Eggskin rotated a couple pieces and fit them back together, revealing what looked like part of a medscanner. “Waste of time. At least this isn’t the good one for diagnosing, just the one for checking boxes. But we do need a replacement if you can get it.”

I mentally ran down the list of stores I’d spotted on this space station. “Yeah, I think I saw an electronics place that should have those. And we’re not going to leave for a while yet.”

“Excellent, thank you.” Eggskin looked relieved. “I’d go myself, but I have several other items in need of a tune-up.”

“No problem. I’ll let the captain know, then be right on it.” With a wave from me and further thanks from Eggskin, I headed off to find the captain.

Warm light spilled from the crew lounge as I passed. I mentally patted myself on the back for moving my sun lamp in there for everybody to enjoy. Humans may need their vitamin D, but Heatseekers craved warmth, and didn’t always want to ask for it. Paint was currently curled up on the biggest couch, along with Telly: a pile of mottled orange scales and mismatched fur. The cat had also started in just my quarters but moved on to spend time in the rest of the ship.

They looked awfully happy there in the light of the tiny, hovering, artificial sun. Maybe I’d bring a book in and take a seat on the other couch later. Right now, I had a bio-scanner to find. And while it would have been perfectly ironic for Captain Sunlight to be basking in the lounge as well, she was elsewhere.

I found her in the cargo bay, double-checking a new stack of boxes with Zhee. She held a clipboard in her scaly yellow hands while he moved things with his shiny purple pincher arms. They were a study in contrasts. When I told her where I was going, she was glad to hear it.

“Eggskin said there was something wrong with that scanner,” she agreed with a nod. “I wondered why they were using the good one earlier. Go ahead; I’ll make a note of the payment.”

“Righto.” I left the pair of them to rearrange the boxes, trusting that the captain would remember to note the payment later. Her memory was good, and she’d been in charge of the finances even before getting promoted. (The previous captain had only been good at delegating. When he got politely booted off the ship for incompetence, everyone agreed that Sunlight should take over. She hadn’t felt like giving someone else more work to do when she was already familiar with the ship’s record-keeping, so she just did both.) (She was good at both. It worked out well.)

I was good at other things, and one of them was recognizing when human-run stores were likely to have quality products. Luckily there was one such store in the nearest commerce sector.

I left the ship and strolled along a moving sidewalk at a delightfully fast pace, passing station-goers of a range of species, many of which were content with regular walking speed. One Mesmer rushed past in a blur of coppery bug legs, exoskeleton liberally decorated with metal inlays and their attitude suggesting they were late for a flight. The various Heatseekers, Frillians, and others gave them a wide berth.

The hum of a high-end jetpack made me duck, worrying I’d get accidentally kicked in the head. But no, it was higher than I’d thought. And the human using it only had one leg, which probably helped my odds anyway.

I wonder if that came from the same place I’m going, I thought. It seemed likely, since my destination was just coming into view past the big media store. Under the space station’s vaulted ceiling and silver-and-blue color scheme, the “Earthly Electronics Emporium” was an eyecatching collection of green circuitry. The big front windows had a whole section on jetpacks and hover-belts. I wondered if they were made by the same manufacturer as the ones Captain Sunlight had been looking into for a client.

Possibly. But we didn’t want to wipe out all the stock in this place, not when the client was content to wait while we gathered the rest of their order from the planet we were scheduled to visit next.

All in good time. Right now, bio-scanners.

I stepped off the moving sidewalk with a careful eye for momentum, and I didn’t stumble. Upholding human reputation, go me. With my head high, I entered the Earthly Electronics Emporium.

It was very green inside too. Not quite as bright as the outside, but somebody had really decided to lean in on the color scheme. I strolled between green shelves designed to look like circuit boards, on green tiles that glittered with LEDs, under ceiling lights that were mostly white, just with enough green paint around them that they could have been green too. At least the labels were easy to read.

There were a few other people in the store: mostly a group of humans chatting by the counter. It sounded like one was teaching the others a space shanty, which just made me smile.

Then I found what I was looking for, and I grinned in triumph. Got it. Let’s see here … “Good for everything from fleas to termites to truly exotic problems.” That sounds promising. I read the label thoroughly, and decided it was exactly what our courier ship needed for checking the crates we brought onboard. We hadn’t had to deal with an accidental infestation yet — well, not one that a cat or two couldn’t solve — and we didn’t want to.

I took it up to the counter.

When I got there, I was surprised to recognize the guy singing the shanty. When he caught sight of me, he broke off with a smile. “Hey, good to see you! Thanks so much for the advice; the animal calls and the caffeine went perfectly.”

“Awesome! Good to see you too!” I set down the scanner so I could return the handclasp-and-hug while he introduced me to his friends, including the guy behind the counter.

He told them, “This is the one I told you about, the human who’s done everything!”

“Well,” I said humbly, getting immediately talked over as Oscar told the others about how his large and intimidating alien crewmates had been disappointed that he didn’t live up to all the stories they’d heard about human antics, which had all, somewhat embarrassingly, been about me.

“But then she told me that imitating animal calls was impressive — and it was; I called in things for them to hunt, and they were amazed — and she’s the one who told me that the Mighty were lightweights on caffeine.” He grinned while they all chuckled. “You already know how that went!”

I was privately glad to see him so animated and social, since the only other time we’d met, he’d been pretty dejected about his lot in life. I asked for details on his adventures and he was happy to tell them, with the other humans chipping in to add that they touched base regularly now, since Oscar’s ship was making regular stops at this station, and most of them lived here.

“Are you staying long?” Oscar asked me. “You should really meet Aster. He’s been writing songs about human stuff, and he’s probably got some of your legends in there. He just started one about caffeine, thanks to me!” He beamed in pride.

“That’s great! I’d love to, but we’re leaving in a little bit,” I said. “Maybe next time we stop by.”

“I hope so! His songs are really good. I was just telling these guys about the new one. Have you heard it yet?” He launched into a melody. “Thiiiiis pirate ship was the scourge of the spaceways, stealing goods with their threats and their gunplay. The scariest ship that you ever did see … Until they met the skunk.”

I snorted and covered my mouth, eyes wide. I didn’t want to say it, but somehow he guessed.

“Don’t tell me,” Oscar declared, stopping the song. “Somehow that was you too.”

“Not directly,” I protested. “And maybe there are other skunks out there! Keep going.”

He sang the rest of the song, which told the story of some foolhardy pirates who didn’t believe the rumors of a merchant vessel with a hazardous Earth creature onboard. They wound up having to abandon their ship and let it fall into the nearest sun, ending their days as “the smelliest ne-er-do-wells that planet had ever seen.”

I applauded along with everyone else. “That is a great song! And I don’t know if that’s the skunk I knew or not. I did give one to a human on a merchant ship. But it had its stink gland removed, so maybe it’s a different one.”

An older woman laughed. “Or maybe Aster took some storytelling liberties with the song. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Oscar shook his head, still grinning. “Maybe!”

Then it turned into a storytelling session about skunk anecdotes, and while I could have happily enjoyed that conversation for quite a while, I did have a ship to get back to.

The guy behind the counter rang up the sale for me, charging it to the ship’s account successfully. “What a great name,” he said, reading off his screen. “Gotta love a ship called Slap the Stars.”

I told him, “It was named after the human tradition of high fives!” That derailed the conversation even further, and it was with real regret that I had to leave.

A couple of the others said they had places to go as well. Casual hugs for everyone, and suddenly it was like being back home for the holidays. After several tight embraces, I realized I’d been missing that and not realized.

I said goodbye to my fellow humans and promised to check in next time I was in town, then took the bio-scanner back to the ship. The moving sidewalk was just as quick in this direction.

Paint and Telly were still in the lounge when I passed. I gave Eggskin the scanner, checked in with the captain at the cockpit, then grabbed a book from my room.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked Paint.

“Sure; there’s plenty space!” She uncurled enough to wave at the broad expanse of couch.

Telly made a feline “Mrrp,” then put her head back down.

I found the sun lamp’s controls on the table, next to the box of accessories, and turned it up just a smidge. Then I lay down between Paint and the back of the couch, with my book above her head.

She made happy noises about the extra warmth, and Telly mrrp’d again.

From the door to the hall, something hissed, then Zhee’s voice complained, “Why is it so bright in here?”

Paint didn’t look up as she declared, “Basking is a time-honored form of enrichment.”

“I fail to see the appeal.”

“Hang on,” I said, sitting up long enough to grab an effects adapter from the box on the table. I’d checked before; these would stay in place even with just half of the cover. I clipped on the most colorful and glitterific galaxy adapter to the far side of the sun lamp, turning half of the lounge into a space disco that any self-respecting Mesmer would love.

Zhee was no exception. “Now that is lovely,” he said, clicking his way into the room. “Why didn’t you do that to start with?”

He made himself comfortable with a media screen while I settled back into place with my book and cuddle puddle.

Mur’s voice said from the hallway, “Why is it so bright in here?”

Zhee said, “Enrichment.”

Paint said, “You can join us if you like.”

I smiled. “I have a great new space shanty that I think you’ll enjoy.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[lostintransist]

In And Of Itself | Part 3

Inking Me Into The Spaces You've Yet To Fill

Part 1 | AO3 And a special shout out to @ms-sasa for this special story!

Dr. Van Pelt, who insisted Simon call her Lucy, had been surprised by the heaviness of the memories tackled in the mental session. They broke it down, naming feelings, and sensations and going over the advice you had given him. Lucy educated him on how PTSD functions in the body and gave him an understanding of what happened in his internal session. It was the reason that his appointments with her were scheduled soon after the AI scrambling his neurons. In Lucy’s words, ‘it’s better to get it all labeled as it comes out of the closet than trying to figure out what it is later.’

“I’m surprised Simon. A man like you is slow to trust,” Lucy commented as she made a note on her electronic table.

He let out a grunt, feet spread wide and arms folded across his chest.

“Don’t trust it, but,” Simon bent forward and plucked a pain fidget from the basket at his feet. “It’s easier.”

“Easier how?” Lucy shifted in her seat, tucking a blanket across her lap.

Simon folded his arms, the small cylinder, and bumped points nipping at his palm, as he contemplated how to put the words in place.

“I didn’t have to decide what we started with.”

“To make sure I’m understanding right, you liked not having to choose what you worked through?” Lucy is watching him as he nods once. She starts writing.

Staring at his tattoo sleeve he wondered where he could incorporate Johnny, sliding him between the guns and the skulls didn’t feel right. Simon toed his way back from that thought, knowing the pain of that loss would cripple him again if he breathed too near it. Though, Johnny would love being inked into his skin. A memory surfaced.

Simon had sat on the center seat of the couch, quietly being consumed by wonder and the tickling of happiness. Johnny had just agreed to move in. The flush of the toilet did nothing to pull him from the rip current thoughts that pulled him from the shore of his body. The life vest settled on him with the weight of his lover’s body.

The seat of Johnny’s jeans sat firmly against the button of Simon’s. He looked up into the face he loved so much it made his heart ache.

“With me?” The words from his mouth tasted of Scotland.

“Yeah, I’m with you Johnny.”

“Ye lookin’ like ya love me, Si.”

“I do,” Simon let his eyes shift over his lover’s face, “If I could crack my chest open and tuck you behind my heart I would do it without thinkin’.”

Johnny’s hand drifted up Simon’s left arm, shifting the sleeve of his shirt out of the way. He pressed a kiss to the top of the tattoo that curled over the edge of the shoulder.

“Could keep me in your flesh, inking me into the spaces you’ve yet to fill.”

Simon’s fingers settled into the base of the mohawk, directing Johnny’s kisses to his lips instead.

Lucy said his name, ripping him from the memory.

“How is life going outside of work? You mentioned that you are base duty until you’re a bit further along in this process.”

“Nothing happens.”

“No one smiles at you at the grocery store? Do you do anything for fun?” Lucy is watching him again, looking for his body to respond even if he doesn’t.

“I order my groceries. I read a bit, haunting the library nearest me for new titles. Don’t talk to anyone outside of work,” Simon squeezed hard on the fidget still in his hand.

The spikes held firm against his grip, centering him with the firing of his nerves.

“Now, I know you’re going to hate this but you’re a good soldier and good at following orders.” Lucy tucked her stylus into the case of her tablet case, “Join a club, hire someone to teach you a new skill, something. You need regular contact with people who aren’t related to work. I know your paranoid anxieties will make this a challenge, so your homework is to identify an activity you are okay doing and report back.”

Simon focused on breathing as he kept his teeth from clenching. He had broken a molar last year due to the bad habit. The base dentist had been able to remove it and connected him to an oral surgeon to get a fake tooth installed but Simon hadn’t followed up after the harrowing experience of getting a post drilled into his jaw. He should probably go back and get that tooth installed.

“Any activity?” He forced air in and out of his nose to keep from getting lightheaded.

Lucy’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her head in a ‘you better be fucking with me’ way.

Simon sighed through his nose, “Fine.”

He knew what she meant and knew there would be more homework if he tried to sidestep the order by joining a gun club or something familiar.

“Good,” Lucy stands, setting down her blanket and tablet and walking him to the door. She hardly comes up to his elbow but Simon is sure that this woman could do some serious damage to him if she ever felt so inclined. “Same time next week?”

“Can’t keep my job if I miss it,” he shrugged one shoulder.

Lucy snorted, “Have a good week, Simon.”

He liked his therapist. She did good work and handed him tools instead of asking ‘And how does that make you feel’ until the collective sounds made less sense than the braying of an ass.

You had been right. Simon woke and every speck of him ached. He reacted more quickly to innocuous comments and needed to take more breaks from, well, everything. It took five days for his body to settle into the normal of not holding onto the guilt he expunged in the last session. The sand of guilt no longer filled the space in his head, all the bits that were left rattled around like coins in a mason jar. It sounded like change.

In and Of Itself Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Taglist

[ginxyy]

A dance of hearts

Visiting Hoshi in a dance practice was full of fun, jealousy and confessions 

As I stepped into the bright studio, the air was thick with a mix of adrenaline and laughter. The sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor melded with the upbeat rhythm that pulsated from the speakers. My heart raced not just from the lively atmosphere, but because Hoshi was at the center of it all his infectious energy radiating like sunlight. It had been a few months since we became ‘us.’ Each day felt like a new chapter in a beautiful story that I never wanted to end.

Hoshi stood confidently in front of the stage, his arms animatedly weaving through the air as he challenged the members of Seventeen to match his enthusiasm. However, as I silently watched him, I couldn’t help but admire him for more than just his talent. There was something utterly captivating about the way he poured his heart into teaching, his eyes sparkling like stars against the backdrop of the studio lights. My heart swelled with pride, and I called out to him, “You’ve got this, Hoshi!” He turned at the sound of my voice, and for a moment, the world faded away. A grin broke across his face, illuminating the room.

But as fate would have it, this carefree moment took an unexpected turn. As he demonstrated a particularly complex move, the dance studio echoed with the sound of something clattering to the ground. Hoshi cursed softly under his breath, falling silent as he groaned, “I broke the camera!” The crew had been using it to film their choreography practice. A chorus of gentle laughs erupted around him, and before I could join in, he added, “Alright, I’ll be back! I’m just going to grab a new one.”

“I’ll stay here!” I called after him, waving enthusiastically as he dashed off to the nearest electronics store. In his absence, I basked in the dynamic atmosphere of the studio, yet as moments turned into minutes, I found myself drawn into conversation with Mingyu, who had been watching me from a distance.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he grinned, sidling closer. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his boldness. “Is it not a bit lonely waiting for your boyfriend?”

“Not with you around, I guess,” I replied teasingly. There was a lightness to our banter; he was charming, effortlessly funny, and with each moment, I found myself laughing at his jokes and infectious personality.

“See? I knew you’d miss me if I left!” he shot back playfully. I leaned against the barre, enjoying the playful teasing, but in the back of my mind, I felt the slightest twinge of guilt. I could imagine Hoshi’s expressive face, and a fluttering sense of mischief danced in my stomach when I thought about how the light banter could ignite jealousy in him.

Just then, the studio doors swung open, and Hoshi returned, a sleek new camera in hand. He surveyed the room, his gaze landing on Mingyu and me locked in laughter. The playful gleam in his eyes shifted, morphing into something protective as he approached. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and a hint of irritation.

Mingyu straightened up, that ever-so-sly grin still playing across his lips. “Just keeping your girlfriend entertained while you were gone!” Mingyu laughed, though his humor was laced with a touch of mischief.

Hoshi’s expression hardened, and I could sense the shift in the atmosphere. Jealousy was swirling around him like a dark cloud, and without a second thought, he stepped close to me, wrapping his arm possessively around my shoulder. “You don’t need to entertain her, Mingyu. She’s with me.” His voice held a firmness that I found both hilarious and endearing.

With a newfound intensity radiating from him, he pulled me closer, attempting to create a barrier between me and Mingyu, who only grinned wider at Hoshi’s sudden sulkiness. It was sweet, really seeing how fiercely he cared. But his sulking didn’t quell the laughter in the room.

Once the laughter subsided, I turned to Hoshi, his expression softening slightly as I saw the slightest hint of embarrassment painting his cheeks. “Hoshi,” I said softly, squeezing his hand, “you don’t need to be jealous.”

He looked at me, frustration flickering in his eyes. “But I—”

I didn’t let him finish, stepping up on my toes to close the small distance between us. “Hoshi,” I whispered, “you’re the one I love.” The words slipped out before I could think, but I felt the weight of them hanging in the air a promise and a truth I never wanted to hold back.

In that moment, his brow furrowed for just a second before his face lit up, his features transforming into a radiant smile that stole my breath away. “You love me?” he echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and overwhelming happiness.

I nodded, “Yes, of course!” And before I knew it, he cupped my face in his hands, pulling me into a kiss that felt like a warm embrace against the world around us.

Time seemed to stand still as our lips connected a beautiful intertwining of souls where everything faded but the love we shared. As we pulled away, breathless, I looked into his eyes and saw the depths of his joy reflected back at me. “I love you too,” he whispered, and it felt monumental.

Hoshi kissed me again, a soft peck at first, then with a deeper urgency that thrilled us both. He peppered my cheeks with quick kisses, each one igniting a spark within me. His laughter mixed with my own, creating a harmony that filled the air, drowning out any remaining sounds of the world around us.

And as the world continued to spin, I found solace in his arms his warmth enveloping me, protecting me, and reminding me that my heart had truly found its home.

[j-a-nuary]

Thoughts on perv BFF Kim Seungmin

Warnings: suggestive/not explicit but lots of implications, an inclination towards pet-play, collars, voyeuristic tendencies, general creep-itude (obviously, that's why it says "perv" in the title)

◇─◇─💙💛💙─◇─◇

Makes fun of you for liking lattes, but make you them anyway. Always adds way more whipped cream than necessary and calls it your “pup cup” when he brings it to you. Watches a little too closely to the way you lap up the topping with your tongue. He's honestly just torturing himself because now he's stuck in his seat until he can calm down again.

◇─◇─💙💛💙─◇─◇

He always jokes around by calling you his puppy. “What a messy puppy,” he murmurs while pointing out you have whipped cream on your cheek. “What a good puppy,” he smiles when you get a good performance review. “Come on, puppy! Come here, girl!” He laughs, urging you to hurry up when he picks you up from work.

Switches to calling you a dog when he's annoyed. “You're like a dog in heat,” he scoffs when you tell him about your preparations for an upcoming date. “You're drooling like a dog,” when you mention an actor you think is handsome.

Mysteriously disappears into the nearest bathroom for fifteen minutes when you play into the nickname. He starts blushing and rushes away when you come up to him and say “I'm on my good girl shit! The puppy got a raise!” He excuses it by saying you were being embarrassing.

◇─◇─💙💛💙─◇─◇

Buys you a beautiful choker with the cutest locket on it for your birthday. You think it's cute and immediately spin, facing away from him and urging him to put it on you. Thank god. He can feel himself sweating as he does so.

Jeongin calls him out later on.

“That's a goddamn day collar!”

Seungmin shrugs, stepping on Jeongin’s foot to make him shut up before you're back in earshot.

“You don't know shit. How do you know what that is?”

Jeongin pipes down because he does not want to explain how he knows.

◇─◇─💙💛💙─◇─◇

Becomes the world's clumsiest cooking companion around you. Constantly dropping things and asking you to pick them up, claiming he's too sore from practice. Will accidentally kick whatever it is under the edges of furniture, so you have to get on your hands and knees. Uses the opportunity to stare at your ass and steal peeks down your shirt, mentally storing the images away for later that night.

◇─◇─💙💛💙─◇─◇

Buys an additional smartphone while abroad so he can take photos without the shutter sound. Sure, he might have been able to jailbreak his Korean phone, but he just happened to be with Hyunjin while he was looking at electronics on tour, and the phone was just… there.

Starts carefully: blurry photos that are half covered by the fabric of his sweater sleeves or pants pocket. He can sort of discern how your chest looks in a sailor collared shirt. There's a suggestion of thighs in a pair of shorts.

Slowly gets bolder. The photos get clearer. He sneaks a photo almost every time he has the opportunity. Obvious shots down your shirt, mostly taken when he's standing behind you when you sit down. A hundred different shots angled sort of between your legs, all taken under tables when he sits across from you. Just a few scant photos lit only by flash where he carefully tugs a bit of your pajamas out of the way during pre- and post-tour sleepovers.

◇─◇─💙💛💙─◇─◇

He even tries reading fanfiction and using find+replace to put your name in (an idea he gets from Han, of course). It sort of works. For a little while. He bookmarks a few favorites for when he's truly desperate.

◇─◇─💙💛💙─◇─◇

Stray Kids Masterlist

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: June 14, 2025

Wysteria

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to human experimentation, death, human trafficking and smuggling, suicide, child pregnancy, and miscarriage.

Real name: Amatech Hyperweapon "Omnikron Devil" (she renamed herself Wysteria Kocatris Uzylsione)

Alias: Embryonic Basilisk

Occupation: Bioweapon

Future plans: Enjoying a peaceful life amongst humans and protecting the equilibrium of Earth

Special skills: Teenage neuroplasticity, all forms of sign languages, the mindset of a general, proficiency in reconnaissance missions and enemy annihilation, and knowledge of mechanical engineering, electronics, bioengineering, pharmacodynamics, psychology, and ecology

Abilities: She can manifest up to twenty quasi-invisible arms composed of solidified telekinetic energy, which can be utilised to move around easily as well as bludgeon and slice through people and objects with precision. These arms can extend up to 20' 5" (622.5 cm) in length, appearing emaciated and twitching with erratic movements. She can project her thoughts and telepathically communicate with people she vividly remembers as well as read their minds freely, all without any hindrance. Whenever her pupils dilate abnormally and her face is shrouded in hazy shadows, she possesses a dreaded gaze capable of igniting anyone she perceives as an enemy with just a glance, especially if they meet her eyes directly. Her superhuman strength is described as greater than that of most established armies, allowing her to rival one entire army by herself without much difficulty. She can produce the same organic timed bombs as the Unknown Alien by regurgitating them from her stomach and throwing them at the nearest enemy.

She can release a putrid breath the size of a full-grown tiger. It's imperceptible to the human eye but visible under ultraviolet light, appearing as a neon pinkish-purple. This breath can effortlessly wither plants and incapacitate grown men who inhale it, causing immediate brain death. It can only be expelled through her belly mouth with its throat connected to two kidney-shaped gas canisters that store the poisonous smoke. They're coated in a metallic purple finish, and the air inside is extremely toxic, transforming any air that the stomach mouth inhales into a deadly poison. These specialised organs are located behind the lungs and partially above the diaphragm, connected by two flexible reddish-black industrial pipes that function as the trachea. They're covered in a thin, translucent layer of bluish-white fleshy tissue adorned with faintly visible red blood vessels.

By opening a semi-oval skin flap on her back, she reveals an engorged, fleshy orifice that glistens with a clear liquid. Behind the skin flap is a silver-white sac fused to the muscles of her back. This self-replenishing sac is filled with a deadly venom resembling that of a king cobra. The muscles surrounding the sac, which she can involuntarily flex, help propel a controlled stream of venom out of the orifice, leaving a wide trail in her wake. Once it comes into contact with exposed skin and metal, it causes rapid bodily decay and corrosion. Additionally, she has alveoli and unusually long, sharp fangs that enable her to inject the same venom through a bite, resulting in rapid internal organ failure.

She can regurgitate a massive ball of luminous reddish-white goo, which she uses to heal both fatal and non-fatal wounds. Once applied, it releases anesthesia-like chemicals that make the process of bodily restoration completely painless without causing sleep for either her or the recipient. The goo automatically fills any bodily damage it comes into contact with, rebuilding the organic tissue by copying its DNA and gradually yet swiftly transforming into the damaged material. It can even reattach severed limbs and create new ones.

She can effortlessly slice through a person with her hands by manifesting a red-violet cutting energy. She can create a monolithic barrier of soil, rock, and plant life directly in front of her, tall and wide enough to shield her from oncoming attacks. Additionally, she can summon a level 3 tornado of fiery light and sharp air, which she can manually control for up to 5 minutes. This tornado sucks up and tears apart anything in its path before swiftly dissipating into a temporary misty fog with flecks of embers.

Within her sight range of 67 ft (2042.16 cm), she can possess anyone through a form of astral projection that allows her to swiftly transfer her soul into another body. Once this occurs, her original body becomes lifeless, unbreathing, and devoid of a heartbeat with soulless eyes as she falls into a deep slumber. Upon entering a new body, the possessed person gasps for air and coughs up blood before undergoing metamorphosis. She can possess a person for two to five hours before exhausting her mental and spiritual energy, signaling her to return to her original body and place her soul back where it belongs. When she leaves the body of the person she possessed, they have no recollection of the events that transpired, and two long scars run along their back as a result of the one-minute transformation they underwent.

When someone is possessed by her, they have rich purple skin, soft mint green veins, elfin ears, a mouth full of crooked, pointed iron teeth, and red copper swine tusks. Their facial expression is disturbingly stoic, and their eyes glow with a wisteria hue, featuring slit pupils and black sclera. They possess bat wings that are twice the length of their body, which have purplish-brown bony forearms and fingers, tipped with curved black claws. The wing membrane resembles that depicted in the concept art of winged Super Devil Marco. They're granted the ability to fly and can wield most of her abilities, except for those that require her unique physiology to be properly utilised.

Like Leona, she possesses the Riot of the Blood due to her Super Devil lineage. However, she maintains absolute control over it and is able to think and speak clearly, but it's tinged with wrath. She can enter this physical and mental transformation by tapping into her berserker willpower. While her Riot of the Blood functions similarly to Leona's, it also grants her access to unique abilities that are exclusive to her. When her jaw and chest cavity are split open, her hanging gills lift to reveal a glowing white light edged with magenta and blue-violet. In this state, she can unleash a devastating laser beam of the same brilliant luminosity, capable of destroying everything in its path and slicing through large enemies. Bolts of red lightning curve around the laser pillar emitting from her mouth. It instantly incinerates people, leaving behind a pile of flaming gore, and electrifies anyone who's very close, frying their organs. The beam can reach a size of up to seven and a half football fields.

She can summon a pillar of violet light from the sky to strike a small group of five to seven opponents, leaving behind nothing but charred bones. She can create a three-dimensional cube of glowing energy that slowly transitions from yellow to red to purple, forming a prison that traps one person. When she makes a fist to close it, the cube quickly collapses inward, dissipating into sparks of red, yellow, and purple. This process cuts the enemy into a hundred pieces, resulting in immediate death.

Hobbies: Adoring cute things, making stuffed animals, collecting helmets from dead soldiers and obscure educational books, building functional drones using salvaged electronic parts and computer programming, and drawing molecular diagrams and the biological structure of the brain from memory on whiteboards and blank paper

Likes: Natural things, the taste of copper, how soft fabrics don't irritate her skin, dominating the battlefield with her fighting prowess, and the cerulean lake nestled in the forested mountains where the Sparrowhawk Operations Base is located

Dislikes: Malicious comments, copper deficiency, weapons of mass destruction, scaring innocent people that she wants to befriend, and the maddeningly painful and itchy sensations she experiences from weasel odor and scratchy fabrics

Favourite food: Strips of buttermilk-soaked beef liver with cooked shiitake mushrooms, raw kale, and guacamole

Sexuality: Sex-indifferent omniromantic greysexual

Gender: Non-binary (prefers to go by she/her pronouns)

Age: 3 (in 2028), 5 (in 2030), 7 (in 2032), 9 (in 2034), 16 (in 2041), 18 (in 2043), 19 (in 2044), and 22 (in 2047)

Weight: 

684 lbs. (310 kg)

973 lbs. (441 kg)

Design: As a teenager, she's a 12' 9" (388.62 cm) ectomorph with a lanky, athletic build, a weak musculature that oddly flexes and twitches, a square chest, small nippleless breasts, sloping shoulders, prominent thighs, and elongated, slim limbs. As a young adult, she's a 13' 1" (398.78 cm) mesomorph with an upside-down trapezoidal chest, full nippleless breasts, broad shoulders, well-toned thighs, and elongated, muscular limbs. She has a slightly rounded belly and grotesquely defined muscles that ripple with each heartbeat. She has elfin ears, flaring nostrils, Oviraptor feet tipped with black talons, and a skeletal mouth with crooked, pointed omnivorous iron teeth. She has bug-like eyes that appear partially closed, featuring feline pupils with green and red tapetum lucidum and abnormally large blue-tinted wisteria irises.

Inside her second womb is a greenish-white maggot, called Calamity Grub, the length of a human small intestine, adorned with red-tinted bronze scales resembling those of the Elder Centipede. It has six sunken, glossy sapphire eyes arranged in a triangular formation on both sides of its face. Its inner mouth resembles that of a sea lamprey, featuring eight large, jutting iron teeth encircling the front. Through telepathic communication, Wysteria can convince the maggot to slither out of her urethra to attack. The maggot can spray a controlled jet of lava-like fire, spit a violet goo containing microorganisms that make it acidically lethal, and extend its inner mouth to deliver painful bites and tear off skin from anyone too close to her.

She has a slit that runs from the centre of her lower lip to the top of her abdomen, which she can open to reveal ten rows of steel-hard red copper anglerfish-like teeth and three black serpentine tongues. She has bright malachite skin that's heavily blemished by dark green scars and burns. From the central sides of her lungs to her diaphragm, she has six hanging gills—three on each side—that expose her twitching and decaying bronze-hued muscles. She has four glowing coral red eyes with no sclera, iris or pupil, which are positioned above the large mouth of a Japanese oni on her belly. The mouth features light green lips, bright golden-yellow carnivorous teeth and fang-like tusks, and an indigo blue pointed tongue.

She has a puffy, unkempt strawberry blonde mane that nicely cascades just above the centre of her back. It features scruffy sideburns, wispy bangs, and two spiky, layered sections of hair that drape over her shoulders, covering her breasts and reaching the top of her hips. Wysteria's hands are covered in iridescent blue carp scales, and have greenish-grey palms and unnaturally long, slender fingers tipped with razor-sharp black claws. On the palms of her hands, she has fully functioning eyes that act like magnifying glasses and UV flashlights, allowing her to see finer details and even view dark places with night vision. These eyes glow different colors depending on her current emotional state: purple (neutral/mixed emotions), crimson (fury/excitement), carrot orange (confidence/social), dandelion yellow (happiness/cheerfulness), sky blue (melancholy/calm), and lime green (disgust).

When she enters the Riot of the Blood, her eyes turn a foggy greenish-white, and her hair transforms into a deep red with light pink streaks. Her throat is adorned with iridescent blue carp scales and wispy deep red fur peeking out from beneath the last row. She possesses bat-like wings made of blue lightning, which allow her to create an electric barrier when she envelops herself and launch six bolts at random enemies with a single clap of her wings. Two Jacob sheep horns made of bone, coated in a red copper finish, protrude from her forehead. Additionally, she has four sea purple tentacle tails, each twice the length of her height, tipped with red-tinted silver knife blades. It features spasming blue-green feelers that touch and grasp anything they physically encounter.

Wysteria's outfit consists of purplish-grey cargo shorts that fall just above her knees, featuring ripped and slightly tattered edges. Her shorts are held up by a red-violet belt featuring a black snap-on buckle, while a waist pack made from Seoane's viper skin and cowhide lining is secured at the back. The waist pack contains a walkie-talkie, bag of dry roasted cashews and cooked chickpeas, blue marker, and bottle of cinnabar-powdered vitamin purple gummies. It also contains a black leather coin pouch with a blue-green drawstring, filled with coins she collected during her travels in various countries. Tucked into her belt on the front left side is the pelt of a Central European boar, cut into a semi-oval shape and lined at the bottom with the tail feathers of a rooster, while the underside is made of white sheep wool. She has a canteen filled with liquid copper, secured to the front right side of her belt with sturdy rope.

Resting upon the pelt is a rectangular pouch with a clear plastic window, showcasing two stuffed animals: Viola Rosamund, a light purple teddy bear with a purplish-black bowtie and dark pink button eyes, and Bubu Valentine, a lop-eared white bunny wearing a bluish-black top hat, a navy blue nose, and scarlet button eyes. The pouch features a lavender outline, a ruby-hued strap with a bronze button clasp, and a metallic blue zipper. Inside, it contains sewing supplies and materials suitable for making stuffed animals.

Character summary: She's a very enigmatic and environmentally aware person, driven by her goal of bringing about the collapse of the Rebel Army, Ptolemaic Army, and Amadeus Syndicate, all of whom she believes deserve to face justice and suffer the consequences of their terrible actions. She's an honest, magnanimous, calm, and pure-hearted individual who judges others fairly and casually ignores insults and mockery directed at her. However, she'll assertively address such behaviour when it becomes a significant issue, especially when people dehumanise her or those she considers family and friends. She can occasionally come across as rudely blunt when she's furious, but her judgment remains reasonably fair even in anger. She’s incredibly intelligent, using her sharp mind to cleverly outmaneuver her enemies, achieve her goals, and engage in witty banter with friends.

She dislikes incompleteness and wasted potential, particularly when corporate interference and self-sabotage are at play. It always frustrates her when something promising either doesn't get the opportunity to be fully realised or is undermined by people who fail to explore its potential in meaningful ways. However, she has a deep respect for passion, even if it's misguided or misused. Wysteria enjoys playing pranks on people by doodling on their faces while they sleep. Despite the unforgiving dangers, she sees nature as her friend because of its serene beauty, and she'll never stop being fascinated by its biological and ecological aspects. She loves making friends because it makes her feel human and cherished, but she struggles with this natural inclination as many people are afraid of her and/or dismiss her as an emotionless weapon.

Whether she’s on the battlefield engaging in combat or off duty spending time with those who accept her, her unsightly appearance, unnervingly exotic voice, and tactical expertise can be quite intimidating, making it difficult for others to approach her. She grapples with feelings of melancholy stemming from her persistent loneliness, the fear of losing her grip on sanity and succumbing to a berserker rage, and the way she's treated as an unwanted outsider. As a result, she has become very closed off, rarely speaking unless necessary, such as when responding to a question or complimenting someone’s success. She feels sheltered, perceiving it as a lack of freedom, because the Regular Army maintains strict supervision over her and often forbids her from going to certain places without an escort, fully aware of her value in warfare.

She strongly values the concept of autonomy and unoppressed free will because it makes her feel alive and unchained by unrealistic expectations and strict orders. She desires a life of independence and community for herself and others—one that isn’t controlled by cruel governmental and militant powers or unnecessary laws. She detests when people oppress others from enjoying the lives they wish to lead, whether it’s something as simple as restricting finances or as severe as slavery. While she acknowledges that some checks and balances are necessary to prevent oppressive actions like hate speech, she believes that not every rule is warranted, especially when it jeopardises individual rights and freedoms. Although she's generally obedient, she often resents being told what to do on a regular basis. This can lead her to act rebelliously, especially when the orders seem unreasonable and distract her from enjoying whatever she's doing in the present moment.

People often describe her as a "mature, moody teenager", suggesting that she possesses the mature mindset of an adult while also experiencing the typical mood swings, irritability, heightened emotions, and identity exploration characteristic of adolescence. She's interested in developing and understanding a nuanced moral ethos, driven by her desire to become the best person she can be. Cautiously curious, she often silently observes, weighing the value of her time before making definitive decisions. She's highly observant of the behaviours and mannerisms of others and is open-minded to various opinions. This leaves a lasting impression on her and enables her to further explore her identity while better aligning with the accepted norms and ethics of society.

Her aloofness stems from her brooding and introspective mindset and her personal preference for solitude. Despite her socially withdrawn nature, she deeply values the few close relationships she allows herself to maintain. She's acutely aware of the danger she poses, which leads to both a sense of responsibility and isolation; she ensures to prevent herself from going rogue and strives to keep others safe from her potentially harmful actions. Occasionally, she makes deadpan jokes and offers dry, sarcastic commentary about her current situations. She's often compassionate and gentle toward every living creature she encounters, especially when they mean no harm and treat her with human dignity, believing they're deserving of her tenderness, kindness, and sympathy. However, if pushed too hard, she's not afraid to use her silver tongue, capable of making people cry or feel deeply inadequate.

With her deep understanding of psychology, Wysteria knows how to utilise psychological concepts to play with people's minds, intimidate and demoralise them, and orchestrate psyop campaigns to instill fear in the enemy. In battle, she's terrifyingly bellicose and ruthless, mercilessly attacking any enemy or perceived threat in her sight, only stopping when directly commanded to do so. She has a bit of an impulsive streak, occasionally rushing into combat without a strategy or killing a person being interrogated without warning. Wysteria is also willing to help others, even when they don't need it, and will rescue fellow comrades and hostages without prior notice or permission from her superiors, even when warned against doing so.

She's fiercely independent, often preferring to work alone on missions, but she'll collaborate with others when necessary or when she feels particularly receptive to teamwork. She freely shares her extensive knowledge on topics she's well-versed in, especially when asked or someone needs help related to her areas of interest. People have compared her to a battle-hardened general, noting that her strategic and cunning mindset, leadership skills, and charisma are almost on par with General Morden. She often wears a serious, almost disinterested expression, her eyes usually devoid of genuine emotion, making it difficult to discern her true feelings. Whenever her eyes glow brightly or she emits a guttural roar, loud hiss or low growl, it's a clear sign that she's about to become aggressively confrontational, and it’s best to avoid her or try to calm her down. She's benevolent enough to spare those she deems truly innocent and clearly victims of their circumstances. She even willingly offers herself to be sent to the frontlines during times of crisis.

She finds it incredibly unnerving that most of her allies, despite being scared of her, happily overlook the destruction she causes, viewing it as a significant advantage for themselves. A significant number of people who come into contact with her, especially fanatically militaristic enemies or those intrigued by her presence on a scientific level, adamantly compare her to the Super Devil. Most either treat her with friendly fascination or are completely enamoured with her. She has encountered numerous fanatic Rebels, Syndicate troops, and Ptolemaic army paramilitary soldiers and cultists who willingly abandon their attempts to take her down, deliberately disowning the causes of their leaders. They believe that the Super Devil represents the truest form of omnipotent power, and it would be incredibly disrespectful to harm such a being. They'll follow any order she gives and even sacrifice themselves or commit suicide for their actions when commanded, which always disturbs her teammates.

She derives a sadistic pleasure from witnessing wicked people meet their demise in any manner. She often lets out a strange giggle when she sees it or even thinks about it, believing that comeuppance for the most heinous is truly satisfying. Wysteria is frequently showered with praise by both allies and enemies, which she appreciates and motivates her to continue being the best soldier any army has ever seen. However, this also confuses her because she doesn't want to be solely remembered as history's greatest bioweapon. At times, she feels intense guilt for her actions during warfare, torn between the belief that she's saving people and the reality of tearing apart decent lives and loving families.

She sometimes harbours intense skepticism and mistrust towards people who give off extremely negative vibes, act oddly for suspicious reasons or present information that seems unreliable, especially when it isn't explained thoroughly. At times, her mistrust and skepticism are misplaced, leading her to be suspicious of genuine individuals. She has a tendency to harbour mild resentment towards people who are treated with more humanity than her, which often makes her feel left out and breeds spite towards those who view her as a monster or a living weapon. She conceals her resentment well, only revealing it when interacting with people who treat her with disrespect, and she discusses it only when she feels inclined to do so. Additionally, she holds grudges against those who have harmed the innocent or wronged her or her loved ones, sometimes going so far as to seek vengeance and brutally punish the perpetrators.

In battle or when feeling particularly violent, Wysteria experiences mental agitation and a loss of calm, but she gradually relaxes when distracted by things she enjoys or after addressing whatever is bothering her. At times, she can be quite lazy, especially when she feels bored and uncertain about what to do. There are moments when nothing seems interesting to her, and she lounges around, searching for something entertaining to keep her active and productive. Although she's usually relaxed and stoic, she has a fiery temper that can easily erupt when someone deliberately infuriates her or when she's disgusted and vengeful by something terrible a person has done. During an angry outburst, she becomes animalistically wrathful, making it difficult to calm her down. However, Wysteria's allies have learned to channel this anger to their advantage because it often allows them to overpower the enemy when she triggers the Riot of the Blood in this state.

She maintains relatively friendly professional relationships with the personnel from the Regular Army, Intelligence Agency, and their special forces units. However, she's aware that some individuals avoid her because of her uncomfortably strange presence and the potential danger she poses, yet they do their best to be polite and conceal their concerns like Tyra and Nathalie. Others, such as Clark and Marco, are indifferent to her presence but still treat her with basic decency and respect her capabilities as a soldier. Then there are those who are genuinely frightened when interacting with her or even being near her, and they go out of their way to be overly nice in order to avoid wrongly provoking her like Rumi and Trevor. She often encounters people who prefer to keep their distance out of concern for their safety, and they respectfully ask her to leave them alone, such as Alisa. Fortunately, she does come across people who are genuinely laid-back, kind-hearted, and enjoyable to be around, treating her normally rather than oddly, such as Ralf and Walter.

She has a good relationship with Fio and Nadia, often spending time with them whenever she feels particularly social. She usually feels cherished, happy, and relaxed in their company. Wysteria can frequently be found sewing with Fio or trying out new foods and sugary treats with Nadia, enjoying long, meandering conversations. She has immense respect for the mercenary work that the Ikari Warriors do and holds a special fondness for Clark and Ralf, intrigued by their brotherly bond and esper abilities. However, she feels frustrated by Clark's frequent lack of enthusiasm and Ralf's occasional foolish presumption. Despite this, she chooses to remain silent on those matters, even when she feels angry, as she doesn't want to stir up trouble.

She has a great deal of sympathy and loving-kindness for Leona, understanding the struggles of being related to the Super Devil and how people view them as fierce tools of war. However, she finds it difficult to get personally close to Leona due to the harsh and cold way she treats her. She always acts respectfully and kindly when interacting with Leona, even when she's dismissed or not treated with the same human decency. She clearly understands that Leona doesn't like her, but she believes that she's capable of positive change and is gradually helping her realise that they both desire a life free from fear and scrutiny. Once Leona begins to open up, they become close friends and reliable comrades.

She acts as a sisterly companion to Celaphios, understanding his struggles as a monstrous alien and his feelings of being a useless outcast. She often shares her topics of personal interest and growing knowledge of humanity with him, viewing it as her duty to inform the uninformed and help broaden their worldview. Ever since her escape from the Amadeus Mainframe Base during the White Baby Crisis, she has come to see Tarma as a caring and trustworthy father figure, treating her as the daughter he has always wanted. He goes out of his way to provide her with emotional comfort and gentle hugs whenever she needs them. He calmly praises her for every success she achieves, teaches her new things about the outside world, helps her with mechanical repairs, and even goes camping with her. She feels the most joy, appreciation, and tranquility whenever she's around Tarma, and she's extremely protective of him, having no qualms about scaring off or harming anyone who messes with him.

As she grew up with White Baby, which kept her virtually entertained during stasis periods, she has come to see it as a caring sibling of sorts. She possesses some understanding of White Baby's true emotions and intentions and does her best to provide comfort, even if it amounts to practicing meditative silence, knowing that it has partial sentience and desires a life free from programming. However, she can't help but view White Baby as morally misguided, incapable of breaking free from its programming and developing a stronger moral compass to understand the reality of its situation and the true nature of Doctor Amadeus. Although it always pains her to fight back against White Baby, she understands that she can't control the virus or convince it to join her side; its fate is ultimately in the hands of her enemies. She views MS-Alice as the version of White Baby that could've been a genuinely decent person, unbound by an uncontrollable destiny.

Backstory: Amatech Hyperweapon "Omnikron Devil" was born on February 29, 2025 in the Amadeus Mainframe Base, Oceania. Project Super Devil was an ambitious initiative aimed at developing a bioweapon from the remains of a deity presumed to be the legendary Super Devil. Its goals included achieving world dominance, advancing scientific discovery, and potentially unlocking the mysteries of the universe during the construction and research phases. Project Super Devil was initiated following a clandestine expedition on Scrap Island on April 17, 2024, where scientists from the Amadeus Syndicate, along with renowned archaeologists led by the oblivious Scott Amundsen Jr.—who had been promised great fortune by Doctor Amadeus—discovered the buried remains of a fully decayed corpse. This corpse was the same one discovered shortly after the events of the Thule Expeditionary Conquest. Rumours spread that the Regular Army had harvested its muscles to delve deeper into any hidden history it might've been connected to. Subsequently, it was used in the construction of the DOLL bodysuit after gaining permission from the Earth Federation with the condition that the rest of the corpse would remain intact and not be exploited.

It exhibited bronze-hued muscles dulled by rot, elastic bones, and an unpowered, half-broken core that depicted tranquil grey skies. The fragmented pieces of the core had managed to cultivate jagged, shimmering crystals in electric blue, red, and purple within the lung and chest areas, which generated electricity, shocking any living creature that touched them without proper protection. Muscle tissue and bone marrow samples were taken from the corpse, along with smaller bones, a few of the crystals, and the broken core. Everything was safely transported to the massive laboratory of the Amadeus Mainframe Base, where the samples and crystalline objects underwent rigorous testing.

After five weeks of research and testing, they made significant discoveries regarding the muscles and bones of the mysterious entity buried on Scrap Island. The muscles contained abnormally high levels of still functioning adenosine triphosphate (ATP), lactic acid, and mercury sulfide, along with cactus-like spikes of polished copper that served as a form of bodily protection and a conductor of electricity. Despite its deteriorated state, the muscles reflexively tense to a diamond-hard degree when roughly touched or penetrated by a sharp object. The bone marrow was found to be much more spongy than that of an average human, resembling stretchy translucent putty lined with hyperflexible blood vessels. Additionally, it was revealed that the bones and putty-like marrow contained high levels of biodegradable, self-replenishing polymer.

When the bones were subjected to intense physical stress, they bent like a rubber tire, yet each bone also revealed multiple joints and was iron-hard. Between each joint were non-decaying, tough, slightly flexible tendons that encircled a semi-solid bubble of honey-coloured, viscous synovial fluid. The synovial fluid was found to contain regenerative white blood cells, which are believed to be released through thousands of microscopic orifices that line each surrounding tendon. Throughout all the biological discoveries, it was found that the esophageal muscles contained a small microbiome exact same lethal microorganisms as the Elder Centipede, but they were dormant, meaning they weren't active and incapable of causing harm until reawakened.

After four weeks of their major discovery, they figured out how to harness the remnants of the deceased deity's psionic energy from the shimmering crystals. They were even able to build their own core, which stores a fraction of the godly power the deity once held. The core was made from an unknown crystal not yet identified by humankind, which contains all of the deity's psionic energy. Its toughness was comparable to chrysoberyl, but its chemical formula is an odd mix of cinnabar, ruby, and malachite. Given that the crystal possesses magical properties and the unique chemical formula that comprises the core, it has been theorised that it may have formed through biological processes involving high levels of copper and oxidising chemicals, an exposure to dry heat, and intense volcanic activity. This has led to the theory that this deity might have originated in an igneous environment and that it biologically relied on copper deposits as a source of energy and sustenance.

By placing the shimmering crystals in a simulated igneous environment that they theorised would create a core, they were able to produce a new one from scratch. It's a circular blue-purple core that contains a misty red-violet fog, small golden stars, and silent, flashing white lightning strikes inside. This new core is half the size of a human lung and stores the remaining power that once belonged to the deceased deity.

Once the core was officially completed, Doctor Amadeus wasted no time seizing the opportunity to create the ultimate biological weapon. On June 28, 2024, after laying the groundwork for her vision, she initiated the second phase of Project Super Devil, allowing her to finally begin the construction process. She named it the Amatech Hyperweapon, codenamed Omnikron Devil. She had two perfect hosts for her bioweapon: a war general from the elite ranks of the Amadeus Syndicate's paramilitary and a young girl, who was purchased alongside other children for the purposes of experimentation.

The first host was Cvetko Farragut-Ridgway, a 46-year-old British-Slovene Lieutenant General who was one of the brightest mercenaries and bravest soldiers the Amadeus Syndicate had ever seen. His wisdom, tactical intelligence, and confident leadership were rumoured to almost rival those of Colonel Hilde Garn. His father was a British pharmacist, and his mother was a Slovene immigrant who served in the financial sector of the British Army after abandoning her dream of becoming a biochemist. He had no family of his own and aspired to become a psychotherapist after his military service ended. However, after uncovering the true goals of the Amadeus Syndicate, Cvetko attempted to desert, horrified to discover he was serving an organisation with disturbing and corrupt morals. He hoped to seek refuge with the Ikari Warriors and be given a chance to serve a morally upright organisation.

Unfortunately, knowing too much and fearing that he might expose the Amadeus Syndicate, he was captured by patrolling troops and thrown into the secret asylum-like prison of the Amadeus Mainframe Base. He was interrogated by Doctor Amadeus, who wanted to know why he sought to desert. Afterward, she ordered Oghma to kill him, and he was shot twice in the heart. Once deceased, Doctor Amadeus' top scientists were ordered to perform surgery to carefully remove his nervous system, respiratory organs, and digestive tract as well as to extract some blood samples. The scientists successfully completed the challenging procedure, placing the organs in preservative jars to keep them fresh and prevent decay, and storing them in a hypothermic environment. Meanwhile, the blood samples were frozen and stored in a biobank.

The second host was a French girl named Limodora, who faced the grim possibility of being sold into military labour and sex slavery for the Ptolemaic Army. She was an incredibly reticent and childlike girl with a keen interest in electronics and a basic understanding of ecology. Her family had moved to Iraq for electrical and mechatronic work, but they were scammed by their employers, losing a significant portion of their savings and falling into poverty. Limodora barely remembers her mother, who passed away when she was just shy of 3-years-old. Her father did his best to care for her, but he struggled to make ends meet, and finding daycare in the war-torn slums of Iraq proved to be a daunting challenge. After she received her first menstrual cycle at the age of 9, her father, in a moment of desperation, sold her to an organised crime group involved in human trafficking and smuggling, receiving a substantial sum in exchange for providing them with a virgin.

She was one of eighteen children purchased by the Amadeus Syndicate, where they underwent rigorous psychological and physical testing. The children were subjected to brainwashing manipulation, examining how easily corrupt political and societal beliefs could sway them when confronted with views and morals vastly different from what they had been taught. Electrocution was used as a form of punishment for those who resisted the indoctrination, instilling a facade of loyalty, a deep fear of failure, and a compulsion to conform to avoid being ostracised. Those who couldn't conform and caused significant problems were euthanised, their bodies hollowed out for organ preservation and surgical experimentation. The Amadeus Syndicate also tested various poisons on the children, injecting small amounts to observe their bodily reactions. They forcibly collected saliva and blood samples to create deadly acids and study the effects of bioengineered diseases on blood cells. Throughout these experiments, many of the children succumbed to suicide, while a few managed to escape by sheer luck.

The only one to survive these experiments was Limodora, who received a hint of special treatment from Doctor Amadeus. She spared Limodora from poison testing because she recognized her great biological potential and didn't want to risk making her severely ill or subjecting her to a quick, painful death. Doctor Amadeus noticed that Limodora was very easy to manipulate, especially when she had no trustworthy belief to cling to and was faced with pain and the fear of abandonment. Limodora offered little resistance to whatever she was subjected to, though a hint of her rebellious spirit emerged when she reached her limit, particularly if something interfered with her learning or playtime. She seemed largely unfazed by many things, blindly accepting her circumstances and acknowledging that she couldn't do much to change them.

Doctor Amadeus used Limodora in a fertility experiment, harvesting an unfertilised egg and conducting in vitro fertilisation with Marco's DNA and semen samples collected from a used condom. She also utilised DNA samples obtained from the deceased deity's bones and muscle tissues, bioengineering them into the now fertilised egg. Subsequently, she impregnated the young girl, forcing her to carry an unwanted pregnancy. Her top scientists closely monitored Limodora, ensuring she didn't escape, while keeping her well-fed and comfortably sheltered, reassuring her that everything would be fine. On February 29, 2025, Limodora gave birth to an emaciated, hairless pre-teen abomination, the size of six fully grown toddlers. The birthing process caused her excruciating pain, ultimately leading to her death as it split her lower half open. The green-skinned baby was a stillborn, possessing abnormally misshapen organs that rendered bodily function impossible. However, this didn't pose much of a problem for Doctor Amadeus as she had anticipated this outcome.

As the stillborn possessed the same muscles and bones as the deceased deity, along with human blood vessels, the team focused on hollowing it out and removing all the misshapen, useless organs. Once that was completed, Doctor Amadeus and her top scientists used the core of psionic energy they constructed to serve as its heart and lifeforce. They carefully transplanted and surgically placed Cvetko's nervous system, respiratory system, and digestive tract, along with Limodora's reproductive organs, after repairing them due to their torn state. Cvetko's brain was transformed into a biomechanical version, incorporating desirable personality traits and special expertise drawn from the digital consciousnesses of both hosts, ensuring that no undesirable data would cause significant issues. After the biomechanical brain was implemented, Limodora's saliva and the blood of both hosts were bioengineered into the stillborn, establishing a proper bloodstream and salivary glands. During this process, the scientists meticulously engineered biological abilities and physical traits suitable for the modern Super Devil, while also integrating biomechanical organs, drawing inspiration from the stories of the basilisk.

Once the first phase of the bioweapon was completed, Doctor Amadeus' team attempted to place it in cryogenic sleep. However, it prematurely awakened, appearing groggy, immensely curious, and slightly irritated. Instead of putting the bioweapon to sleep with heavy anesthetics and quickly placing it into a cryogenic pod, Doctor Amadeus raised it as a child with great care. He implemented rigorous psychological and sociological training to ensure the bioweapon could socialise effectively and avoid serious mental and emotional damage. Additionally, the bioweapon underwent extensive military training to assess the extent of its destructive capabilities and help it control its powers. Strictly confined to the hidden testing facilities of the Amadeus Mainframe Base, it was forbidden to leave without extreme supervision. The bioweapon was exclusively taught military and scientific knowledge, which ignited its curiosity about the outside world. Unfortunately, the scientists often dismissed its questions or provided vague answers.

Despite Doctor Amadeus treating the bioweapon as a child, she maintained the sternness and cold distance of a war commander, combined with the intellectual curiosity and scrutiny of a scientist. The bioweapon was allowed to indulge in fairytales and simple artistic pursuits like sewing and drawing, but the scientists were instructed to ensure that its hobbies always had an educational edge and instill the beliefs of the Amadeus Syndicate, ensuring its obedience to their cause. It engaged in playtime with White Baby, who frequently told it childish stories with vivid visuals and taught it to speak and comprehend various European languages, which it quickly grasped. With assistance and careful observation, the bioweapon grew independent enough to make basic decisions, leading it to name itself Wysteria Kocatris Uzylsione and choose its preferred gender and pronouns.

When the Amadeus Syndicate ended its alliance with the Regular Army three months before the Great Morden War, Wysteria was placed into cryogenic sleep and carefully guarded by elite paramilitary soldiers and tactical scientists, who didn't want to risk their newfound enemy recapturing their developing bioweapon. She remembers the panic that consumed everyone at the Amadeus Mainframe Base and the chaos that ensued as Doctor Amadeus' paramilitary forces fought to defend their position while the main base was being obliterated by explosives and firepower from tanks. She also spotted a few unfamiliar troops, which she quickly discovered worked for a man named Ptolemaios when she asked a hurried, anxious scientist who tried to reassure her about the situation. The surviving remnants of the Amadeus Syndicate took refuge in hidden laboratories and facilities owned by the rogue organisation or military hideouts controlled by the Ptolemaic Army. Meanwhile, Wysteria was carefully stored in the secret laboratory of the Ptolemaic Army's Osaka compound before being moved back to the Amadeus Mainframe Base once the construction workers and engineers completed the rebuilding process shortly after the Great Morden War.

During the Amadeus Syndicate's refugee period, driven by boredom and the idea that Wysteria might need a friend, Doctor Amadeus bioengineered a young Maggot, drastically transforming it into a centipede-like worm that could survive without expelling waste, using DNA samples stolen from a French laboratory. This lab contained research documents related to Duke Koudou's studies, which included ethically obtained blood and flesh samples of the Elder Centipede. Additionally, she conducted an experiment on Wysteria's slumbering body, focusing on creating a womb from scratch using human female DNA samples and reproductive organs harvested from deceased women soldiers who had served in the Amadeus Syndicate and Ptolemaic Army. After a week, she successfully constructed a fully functioning womb that was clean and fertile. She surgically implanted it inside Wysteria and allowed the newly created centipede-like worm, which she named Calamity Grub, to rest within the warm womb. This womb naturally produced a self-replenishing honey-like substance that the creature could consume for energy.

When Wysteria was awakened from cryogenic sleep, prior to the Amadeus Syndicate receiving the corpses of Tequila, Gimlet, and Red Eye, she was trained to make new friends with Calamity Grub because Doctor Amadeus wanted to further develop her social skills. Initially, Wysteria was disgusted and unnerved by the idea of having a second womb and befriending a bug-like creature that called her body home, treating it with disinterest and disdain. It took her time to adjust to Calamity Grub, especially since it initially refused to exit her body and engage in conversation due to shyness and fear. However, as Calamity Grub grew braver and more willing to socialise, and with White Baby's encouragement and support helping Wysteria feel more relaxed, they eventually became close friends and battle allies. Wysteria remains disturbed by Doctor Amadeus's experiments with reproductive organs and the fact that he placed a centipede-like worm inside her body without her permission.

Wysteria exhibited abnormal physical and mental maturation, growing at a rate of every third or fourth month, which made her development faster than that of the average human child. She also became more socially engaged with the scientists and mercenaries at the Amadeus Mainframe Base, learning about current global events as well as intriguing scientific and military insights. Her bond with White Baby deepened due to their familial care, and she came to see it as the sibling she had always wished for. As her interest in labour-intensive arts grew, she was provided with supplies to create stuffed animals, often making teddy bears for White Baby and engaging in imaginative play with them. During this time, she crafted two stuffed animals, which White Baby scanned to store in its memory database: Viola Rosamund and Bubu Valentine. She was frequently tasked with participating in important confidential meetings and offering appropriate suggestions, which provided her with the opportunity to learn strategic techniques and understand how clandestine operations are planned and managed. Additionally, she provided minimal assistance in scientific experiments, such as gathering required materials and performing simple surgical cuttings.

Once the Amadeus Syndicate formed an alliance with the Rebel Army and Pipovulaj, Wysteria became familiar with their allies, learning about their goals and operations. She even met General Morden and Rootmars in person; the former took a particular liking to her due to her tactical brilliance, obedience, and destructive power. Noticing how sheltered and isolated she was from the outside world, Rootmars suggested taking Wysteria out to enjoy some fresh air and familiarise her with her outdoor surroundings. Doctor Amadeus considered the suggestion, and after much thought and planning, Wysteria was granted permission to explore the outside world, but only under strict supervision and for a duration of 1 to 2 hours. Whenever Wysteria wished to go outside, she would be accompanied by two or three scientists, Rebel bodyguards or Pipovulaj troops and researchers. She learned to genuinely appreciate nature and treat it with respect from the Martians, while the scientists taught her the fundamentals of ecology and explained any plants she was curious about.

Wysteria would undergo rigorous training programs conducted by the Rebel Army because Doctor Amadeus deemed it more appropriate for her to train with a tactically knowledgeable organisation that had a thorough militaristic structure, rather than one that primarily prioritised science. After gaining permission, the Martians would teach her Marsinese in depth, hoping to facilitate quick communication between her and their species, especially during combat situations where swift action was essential. She witnessed brief glimpses of the experiments conducted on the corpses of Red Eye, Tequila, and Gimlet, discovering that they were going to be resurrected as super soldiers. As she grew older and developed a curiosity about exploring her identity and knowledge, Doctor Amadeus decided to teach her bioengineering and psychology, while Oghma instructed her in pharmacodynamics whenever he wasn't busy with assassin work and had free time. Wysteria also took the initiative to teach herself mechatronic engineering and electronics, drawing on the knowledge she miraculously possessed from her two biological hosts.

Being constantly surrounded by individuals who viewed her as an inhuman weapon and a tool for overthrowing superior military and governmental powers, she grew increasingly lonely and resentful. She primarily focused on building a genuine, healthy connection with White Baby and Calamity Grub, seeing them as the only legitimate family she could trust and value. Although White Baby is a programmable virus with limited sentience, she has learned a great deal about how the world works and some important life lessons from them. As time passed, she became distant from Doctor Amadeus, realising that the motherly warmth she had received was superficial; the doctor treated her like a child solely to breed obedience, deepening her sense of isolation.

Adding to her turmoil, the extreme admiration and worship from some Rebel troops, Syndicate mercenaries, and scientists left her confused about her identity as a fearsome bioweapon and the descendant of a terrifying war deity. Some soldiers attempted to groom her into loving them, seeking validation and a sense of purpose through their connection with someone they deemed truly powerful. However, their passive-aggressive behaviour and obsessive attention only unsettled her. In a fit of rage and disgust, she violently retaliated, ripping them to shreds and devouring them, an act that Doctor Amadeus seemed indifferent to. In contrast, Rootmars expressed concern about how she was being treated, while General Morden often found himself annoyed by her violent reactions.

The Pipovulaj troops were the only ones to treat her with genuine benevolence, seeing her as a friend and a living being with her own wants, desires, and needs. While she received specialised education focused on military tactics and scientific knowledge from Doctor Amadeus and her underlings and allies, the Pipovulaj helped her develop a more comprehensive understanding of the world, igniting her immense curiosity. They introduced her to their unique beliefs and the concepts of equilibrium, freedom, and individuality, which fueled her desire to break free from her constraints.

She spoke privately with a couple of Martians she believed she could trust, expressing her longing to escape the Amadeus Mainframe Base and live among animals, enjoying a life of peace. However, instead of supporting her wish, they reported her situation to Doctor Amadeus, prompting immediate action to prevent her potential escape. The Amadeus Syndicate deliberately induced a severe copper deficiency in her, knowing that copper was a crucial source of food and energy she needed to consume regularly. This tactic allowed them to lull her into a false sense of security and instil deadly fear when the scientists treated her serious symptoms, ultimately knocking her out with a heavy yet non-fatal dose of opioid analgesics.

After deeming Wysteria adequate for future deployment and believing she had gained a sufficient amount of knowledge required for her position as a living weapon, Doctor Amadeus placed her in cryogenic sleep, securing her in the hidden basement of the Amadeus Mainframe Base alongside Tequila, Red Eye, and Gimlet. The Amadeus Syndicate intended to deploy Wysteria at the right moment, hoping she would effortlessly overpower the Regular Army and create a clearer path to achieving their goals. During this time, she was subjected to further experimentation without her knowledge or legitimate consent.

Doctor Amadeus utilised a small DNA sample from the Invader King, which Rootmars still had in her possession when she created Flying Parasites for him. She used the DNA to bioengineer palm eyes that functioned similarly to the Invader King's as well as gills that mimicked the DNA host's and his healing goo. Shortly after the events of Warrior Triumph, the Amadeus Syndicate collected flesh and DNA samples from the Unknown Alien, noting its genetic similarities to the deceased deity. They used this material to construct a functional stomach mouth and bioengineer the last of Wysteria's abilities, including the capacity to generate a laser.

During her entire stasis period, White Baby kept her brain active by accessing her digital consciousness and frequently interacting with it. She would play with stuffed animals, enjoy simple tea parties and sewing sessions, and explore simulated nature environments, all while discussing random topics and the current happenings of the Amadeus Syndicate and their allies. According to her, White Baby even went so far as to guard her valuable clothing and items from potential thieves, which were stored in the hidden basement's storage room.

[krishnapal]

Explore cutting-edge technology and top-quality products at your nearest electronics store.

[mjonthetrack]

Grown Up 5

Camille woke up to an empty hotel room, her

head wasn’t pounding anymore nor was her

head spinning from Sefa running his mouth at

her. She caught bits and pieces of his rant but

the alcohol induced migraine sparked an

incessant ringing at the time. Camille just

kept shouting he was crazy when he seemed to

self enrage to the point of falling to the floor

in front of her passionately crashing out while

her consciousness faded. Camille got dressed

avoiding the extra task of make up in silence,

she received a message from her boss stating

Trinity had informed him of her fall asking her

to take the day off. Camille threw her phone into

her pocket, she kept hearing part of Sefa’s rant

his deep voice professing some undying love

made her head thump slightly. Camille groaned

that boy was becoming more and more

puzzling as well as frustrating. Throwing back

her antidepressants with migraine meds, she

head out the door of her hotel suite. She slipped

on shades avoiding the bright overhead lights,

requesting an Uber she asked for the nearest

Target. When the woman arrived at the

unfortunate hell that was led over head lights

she said a little prayer of gratitude to the lord

for reminding her to put on shades. Normally

her preference was having groceries delivered

but now with her being on the road frequently

in unfamiliar cities she didn’t want strangers

coming to her. After wiping the carts handle

down and basket seat she closed in her purse

then began down the aisles. “Why can’t

we just have black hair care by black people,”

she cussed to herself in the shampoo aisle

seeing sell out brands and hidden white ran

black imaged products. The woman tsked

when a white worker commented,” I use Cantu

I think it would be good for you,” Camille

scrunched her face at that looking her over,”

well beloved by your overly greasy scalp you

need to put it down and stay out of my

black ass business.” The teen hurriedly

disappeared leaving her to the aisle alone, she

grabbed some silk scarves, gel for edges as well

as a new shower cap. Feeling a looming

presence she spoke up,” look sweetie, I really

am not in the mood to spend my day off in a

county jail so I hope you come to God and leave

me the fuck alone,” presuming the teen worker

came back trying to be funny. When there

wasn’t a response she stood noting a male

staring at her. “Sir, uh did you need to get

here?,” she stated noting how people didn’t

always have the home training to speak with

some decorum not to stare. The man just eyed

her tilting his head a bit, it was how his eyes

look that had the woman shake her head

pushing her cart out the aisle heading

elsewhere,”fuck that,” she mumbles. Camille

grabbed some sprites, fresh fruits as well as

feminine products when she felt that same

presence as earlier she swung around in

produce finding herself alone aside from

an elder Asian lady who was scanning the

bananas. Shaking it off the woman moved

down to electronics grabbing spare chargers,

then she found herself in apparel grabbing

a random set of panties in case she needed

emergency spares for her period. Camille

felt the same sensation she was being watched

but ignoring it she moved on to the check out. When she saw the man from earlier leaving

out the store empty handed she shrugged

the entire thing off as her anxiety working up.

When the woman put the last of her groceries

in the cart from double bagging them she went

out to the front of the store typing in for an

Uber. A truck pulled up with the same

description as the one on the app so she

muttered a thanks when whoever got out and

walked to her side seemingly to help her with

groceries. Camille let out a yelp when she was

shoved inside the truck and her head hit the

center console at the abrupt pressure,” What

the fuck?!,” she yelled as the door was slammed

behind her, that’s when her heart began racing.

The drivers side door swung open and it was

that same man and she suddenly found herself

vomiting at the realization of what was

happening, her purse still sat out in the front

of Target with her phone inside. The elder

lady from produce caught the last few seconds

of it and ran inside to tell some employees, but

by that point the woman’s screams were distant

as the Truck sped out of the shopping center

and began erratically switching lanes. Camille

took as many deep breaths as she could taking

in as much of the details of the man as possible,

when she noted his gas tank pinging as a

warning, she cussed,” you stupid broke

bitch, how you trafficking hoes on E!,” pissed off

she began swinging at the man who only

dodged a few sending a closed fist to connect

with her mouth. A stinging sensation of her

bottom lip made her cuss out at the taste of

iron as blood trickled down her chin. The small

diversion was enough for him to get out by the

tank locking the door and heading inside. Camille threw her body in an awkward position

until her legs faced the door and she began

using all of her force to kick at the window. She

kept at it until a small chunk of glass smashed

out, the woman saw the man inside occupied in

line. Camille kept going now her legs hurt as

broken glass cut at her skin, she cussed when

the car alarm started going off. Camille

began crying praying vehemently as she knew

her plan was crumbling. As if by some miracle

she was able to get enough glass out and she

struggled through the window falling on her

back, Camille whimpered out at the sensation

of glass everywhere. She was able to get up

on pure adrenaline and wobbled to a rushed

limp. Seeing the gas station was connected to a

chicken joint she cried out limping that way,

seeing the man walk to his car and realize she

was gone the truck sped off. Camille cussed out

seeing the run down station without a pay

phone, she limped to the front to the cash

register,” I need a phone please I was just

kidnapped and I don’t have any of my things.” The man at the register’s eyes went wide

he reached out his phone was in her hands, she

ignored the sounds of him asking if she was

okay,”no mother fucker I’m not I know you see

me!,” she typed away the first number in

memory. “Who is this?,” came the sound of

Sefa’s tired voice, the man hadn’t slept since

the night before. Now the woman broke down

her lip stinging,” P-Pooh,” was all she choked

out. Sefa sat up cursing,”What’s the matter?!” Camille couldn’t get the words out right,” he t-

took me, my stuff target, busted my damn lip.”

Camille cussed out when the beeping sound

showed the man’s phone went dead,” ma’am

I’m sorry,” he muttered. Then her head turned

as the sound of an ambulance pulled on in, the

cashier explained he’d used the work phone

while she’d called. The medic looked her over

asking for her name and other information,”

Camille can you hear me?,” the woman’s voice

repeated as she began to feel a panic attack

ensuing being in an ambulance last time was

a result of her ex and to say it triggered her was

an understatement.

Sefa was up and at his brothers rooms

banging, when the twins showed themselves

having been in one room he explained Camille

was in trouble. The trio gained the attention

of Sami who was in the room across the way,

“man did you hear about that trafficking

dude at a Target a few miles from here, that

shit is crazy,” the male said. Sefa shook him,”

where!,” Sefa called Paul informing him of

the situation, notably the celebrities couldn’t

just show up in a place like that so the boss sent

some of their own security to collect Camille’s

items as well as camera footage. Sefa sat angrily

slapping a glass off his table,”I shouldn’t have

fucking left her!, I thought she needed space

if I had known I would’ve never left her.” Trinity

was crying in Sefa’s suite where now the twins,

Sami, even Joe and Liv were inside concerned

for their friend. The sound of his suite opening

and in came their boss looking genuinely angry,”

bastard took her in broad daylight, a customer

mentioned seeing it happen her things have

been picked up and the footage showed the

man stalking her the entire time she was there.” The news sent chills up everyone’s spine only

adding to Trinitys tears, Sefa was furious,”where

is she?!” Paul held a hand up answering his

phone,”got it thank you.” He looked up,” the

police followed up with traffic cameras, she

was spotted at the BP forty miles from here,

they are following up there.” Sefa’s eyes began

watering frustrated he couldn’t do anything,

he felt like a failure and he couldn’t help

but imagine how scared she was. “They don’t

have any camera footage,” came one of the

execs inside whilst Paul was out making calls.

Sefa got no comfort from now Jacob Fatu in

the room rubbing his distraught cousins

shoulder nor Jey trying to keep the room

lighthearted. “Cmon baby girl,” he began

staring at the contact photo he set for her, as

if it would summon Camille.

The woman sat in a strange hospital bed her

body hurt as doctors tweezered out glass

shards out of her skin. A nurse numbed her lip

as best she could to give her bottom lip stitches,

the woman hissed at the sting tears stung her

eyes once more as she cried out. A doctor

walked in,”Ms. Camille is there someone you’d

like to contact?!” Camille forgot any decorum

snatching the phone she couldn’t feel her

bottom lip at this point she was in tears when

they answered,” baby girl tell me where you are,”

it was Sefa she’d called again,”m-my lip,” she

sobbed out seeing the Petri dish of glass on the

roll tray the doctor was using. Sefa swallows

harshly trying to calm his voice not to scare

her despite the anger in his system,”let me talk

to whoever,” Camille couldn’t stop the tears but

a doctor answered and the angry man who was

cussing out for answers,”s-sir I’m sorry we’re

at the Phoenix emergency center.” Sefa already

hung up and was standing storming out the

room at the sound of the doctor, he was in a

company car with his family inside whilst

Paul stayed behind setting up some sort

of press to release. It took almost thirty

minutes to arrive at the hospital, the group was

in discreetly and fast with the security with

them to assure nobody would bother the

group. Sefa cussed out as the receptionist kept

asking questions,” for fucks sakes my girl

is in there, she was trafficked hurry the fuck

up-,” the man’s booming voice caught the

attention of a nurse who cleared her throat,” are

you hear for Ms.Camille?” Sefa turned nodding,”

where?!” The nurse nodded her head asking

them to follow her but the Samoan was faster

than the others, hearing the woman’s cries he

was running. He damn near took out some

doctors doing rounds to get into the room,

seeing blood and the woman’s battered skin and

her lip he felt rage. Camille heard the

commotion but couldn’t sit up thanks to the

nurse checking over her lip, Sefa was by her

hand grasping her hand,” baby girl I’m here.”

Now Camille jerked away from the nurse sitting

up she grasped his shirt tugging him close. Sefa

swallowed his anger as he held her close feeling

her shake he guarded the sight of her as the

others saw the state they didn’t announce it

but Trinity was crying again having Jimmy walk

her to the hallway to not overwhelm Camille. “S-

Sefa do-dont leave me,” she whimpered out

no tears would come as she grasped him

ignoring the nurse calling her name. He glared

at the staff knowing it was overwhelming her he

told them to leave, Jey went out the room with

the others standing guard to give them privacy,

even the twin had shed a tear, the woman

had gone through some real trauma. “I’m not

angry with you ma, I’m just trying to calm down

so I can handle this,” Sefa reassured as his

frustration slipped at the situation being

told by Camille who started from her first

sighting of the man. Camille looked up at him,

“he had a work truck, it had a paint company

on it with purple letters, I saw it when I got out.”

Sefa lifted his phone calling Paul with the

information, he turned spotting the woman’s

cuts he winced,”fuck Camille, I’m so sorry,”

he pinched the bridge of his nose spotting

how chunky some shards of the glass sitting in a

sterile counter was he grabbed it, taking it to

Jey,”give this to Paul he’s on his way they can

use it for evidence this hospital don’t need it.” Jey nodded,”whatever you need Uce, be with

your girl we got it out here,”Sefa dapped his

brother as the male left. He turned putting on

a plastered smile,” you still the finest patient in

this joint,” this made Camille smile weakly then

cuss at the stinging,”fuck, this shit is for

the birds,” she croaked, Sefa poured her a drink

lifting it to her lips,” I got you Camille, you’re

safe now, I’m not going no where.” It was

around 5 when authorities had finished

their reports with Paul in the lobby by her

room. Camille was discharged in the late

afternoon after it all happened in the morning,

she was in no mood to be around a bunch

of people though she thanked them quietly for

showing her support she opted for her things

to be put in Sefa’s room having not wanted

away from the source of protection except for

bathroom visits. Sefa asked her to recount

everything and he wrote all of it down giving

it to Paul who finally bid them good night he

had the business end to take care of. Sefa

helped the woman change out of her clothes

and into a loose shirt of his to give her

something roomy. Camille kept thanking

him for taking care of her but Sefa reminded

her it wasn’t anything to thank him for. Solo

was up while she rested, he was stressed out

at how something so insane happened in

broad daylight,to his woman at that. He

promised he’d take care of her and he failed,

of course she hadn’t been aware of said promise

as she was drunk off her ass when he’d made it.

Solo respondes to all messages from his family,

and coworkers who wanted update and to give

her their well wishes. Sefa was mindlessly

undoing the hair band out of her hair freeing it

from the unnecessary tension. He took her

spray bottle and a pick working her curls loose

from the bounds of the hair gel. Sefa worked

her hair into a poof tugging her bonnet on

proud of his work having seen Trinity before

do her own night care routine. Sefa stroked her

cheek, then applied some medicated lip balm on

her lips gently,”Ima make sure this shit don’t

happen no more Camille, if it’s in my power

to do so I’ll be with you from now on I promise.” Sefa took the time to apply some soothing balm

onto her cuts, some of the same stuff the

wrestlers used on their own cuts. He wasn’t

going to be able to sleep, turning on tv he sat

by her side massaging her feet gently. Sefa

as careful and tentative constantly making sure

she slept peacefully. His room door opening

revealing his older brother made his brow arch,”

she needs to rest,” “you won’t believe who owns

that paint company,” Jey said with an angry

face. That’s how Sefa seemingly turned into a

private investigator alongside his brother as

they found an address they decided against

calling the cops yet.

[snowgrave]

me: *log into site*

google: Some fugly BITCH just tried to log into your account! Unless that was you LOL. Please go find the first electronic device you ever saw in your life and log into that for proof and give us your full name and home address and we’ll text you too and call you and call your mom and dad and grandma and grandpa and aunt and dog and cat and uncle and the nearest rat and the nearest fish and the nearest bird and the nearest ant and the nearest lizard and an employee of a store you went to at least twice for confirmation and also you have to send us a blood sample skin sample hair sample piss sample shit sample cum sample cock sample ball sample so we can suck the DNA out and confirm its you. And if you don’t do all of this we’ll delete every account you’ve ever made anywhere and shave your head bald and shoot you in the face 47 times. Soooo yeah.

[fear-is-truth]

(highest credits go to jackie for the hcs) ♥

Rodrick had a peculiar brand of charm, the sort one might find at the dregs of a gas station slushie cup--a weird blend of syrupy stickiness and watered-down amateurishness, made tolerable, even perversely endearing, only to those sufficiently starved for alternatives. But, you, his girlfriend, were such a beauty that your existence felt almost surreal, as though you had stumbled out of the glossy pages of a high-fashion magazine, and your every feature was made to arouse jealousy and awe in equal measure; and that golden laugh of yours--ah, it was the sort of sound that turned the medium, infusing the mood with a cheerful electricity that made mere closeness feel like victory. Naturally, then, the townsfolk, with their small lives and voracious appetites for speculation, were left lurching, confused by the mysterious alchemy that had paired such a bright, beautiful being with someone as unabashedly rough and, dare one say, dirty as Rodrick.

Rodrick, by any reasonable metric, was far from a catch. He was the drummer for a band so universally unloved, except perhaps the neighbor's dog, who mournfully howled every garage rehearsal. Personal hygiene, to Rodrick, was less a necessity and more a vague suggestion--one he routinely ignored, opting instead for such liberal applications of body spray that stepping in a ten-foot radius of him felt like inhaling pure chemical warfare; and then there was the bouquet--an arrangement plucked, not from some whimsical florist, but from the shady aisles of a gas station, its Cellophane wrapper stuck to the wilted carnations, their edges tinged with a dismal brown. "Flowers are flowers," he would shrug.

And yet, there you two were. You would attend his so-called "shows." And there he was, onstage, just a boy in comparison, clutching his drumsticks. After the racket had subsided, he would invariably come to you with a complacent grin, "Babe, did you hear how sick my solo was?" You would smile and nod with the grace of a queen humoring a court jester, though the only thing remotely "sick" about the whole performance was the bassist who sped across the stage and vomited after a heavy consumption of Mountain Dews.

Rodrick's idea of a date--if one could even dignify it with that term--was as depressingly predictable as it was bafflingly juvenile. A typical outing involved dragging you to the local mall, under the simulacrum of shared leisure, only to park himself in the electronics store, where he would spend an inordinate amount of time "testing" video game chairs. There you would stand, annoyed, arms crossed, in a plain flannel shirt, Levi's and Converse sneakers, while he contorted himself in a chair. The speciality of his romantic ineptitude came one afternoon when, in his infinite wisdom, Rodrick insisted you hold his milkshake--one of those thick, industrial concoctions made to clog arteries--while he attempted to climb into one of those monstrous claw machines, convinced that his "gut feeling" would make him get the giant stuffed cat inside. Naturally, this starry-eyed mission ended with Rodrick wedged awkwardly inside the machine's metal frame, his sneakers flailing. Security was called to save him, and you found yourself slipping to the nearest exit, pretending--quite convincingly--not to know the hapless guy trapped inside a carnival game.

Still, you stayed. Perhaps it was his awful jokes, or the way he would wink at you like an awkward schoolboy whenever he managed to land a cymbal crash in time with the beat; and then there was his manly--though foolish--attempts at intrepidity, the way he would spring into action, waving his sneaker like a clumsy knight exercising a sword, charging into battle against the dread enemy of all women: the spider. Of course, his aim was often off, the sneaker swiping air more than arachnid; but whatever it was--pity, fondness, or some strange gradient of both--you stayed.

Or perhaps, though one might never know for certain, it was the strange delight you found in watching him squirm--a cute, almost tragic scene--whenever you good-naturedly teased him: "Rodrick, what would you even do without me?"

His response was always delayed by a brief, confused pause, as if he had been struck by some sudden and hopeless crisis of self-awareness, and was inevitably the same: a nervous scratch at the back of his neck, followed by a muttered confession of incomprehensible gravity--"I dunno, babe . . . probably just die or whatever."

It was that delicious vulnerability, that endearingly pathetic submission to your wit, that seemed to work some mysterious magic on you; because, in the end, despite his awkwardness, despite his utter lack of politeness, despite his consistent failure to live up to any reasonable expectation of charm, that--his pathetic little submission--was enough; enough to keep you there, chained to this strange, pathetic guy who somehow managed to convince you, hardly trying, that he could not live without you. ⸺ 💋

this is like. one of the best, most mind blowing things i’ve ever read. 💋 anon, i need to know if you have a writing blog because YOU’RE SO DAMN TALENTED OMFG ?!!! and i haven’t forgotten the fics you wrote abt me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

permission to write fics / headcanons based on this ?!!! your mind is simply BRILLIANT.

p.s : i only posted it until now bc i love reading it over & over it in my inbox.. but i figured that’ll be selfish lol

[xautunno]

Paranoia

AO3

Roni doesn't know how it got to this point. What did she do to deserve this?

Stalking; Paranoia; Sylus to the rescue; OC is not necessarily MC but could be; named OC

Roni paces her bedroom. Sweat beads her forehead, the moisture pulling her skin tightly as a stray breeze hits her from the ceiling vent. Her eyes continue to bounce from her worn carpet to the door. She shut herself inside, after tossing all her electronics out - uncaring if they broke. 

With her skin crawling like a thousand needles a second, she runs to the bathroom for safety. The relief lasts only a moment. Her hyper-focused mind recalls the plumper from last week being in here. 

Could he be the mysterious caller?

He spoke little between pleasantries and discussing what he did. He was polite. No unnecessary loitering. 

She throws open the bathroom door. There’s nowhere to hide. Invisible eyes follow her everywhere. It’s desperation that drives her to wedge herself between the window and curtain. A rather idiotic move. She watches people walk below. Her bus stop is a block away, but in clear view. One figure sits on the bench. Details fuzzy. Figure darkened. 

Is it them?

Roni jumps away and pulls the curtains shut behind her. 

She needs a cold shower to wash the sudden grime sticking to her skin but she knows she can’t. She wants to toss her sweat soaked shirt off, but that’s not an option either. The thought of changing - the thought of being seen changing - freezes every fiber of her body. Her toes stick uncomfortably to her thin socks.

It’s too much. The eyes. They’re watching. They’re listening. 

How did it get to this point?

What did she do?

Texts. Phone calls. Voice messages. The details therein. The photos. 

She doesn’t even trust her Hunter’s Watch. Usually, she’d feel bare without it. Skin crawling for the needed protection it somehow provides. It lays on the floor of her living room now. 

Unable to cope with the madness of it all, Roni runs from the apartment. She takes nothing but the clothes on her back. She does not wait and listen for the secure click of her door shutting and locking. She does not care. She takes the steps two at a time in a mad dash for the outside. 

The outside offers little comfort. People wander the sidewalks, clogging up paths of escape. Cameras line store fronts and monitor intersections. So many eyes. All on her. She can’t escape. 

The sidewalk blurs as she bursts into a sprint. She keeps her head down, arms firmly wrapped around herself. A chill takes over her. A fire starts in her lungs. She trembles. She stumbles. 

Roni can hardly think - hardly breathe. She ducks into the nearest store. It’s a half-assed attempt to keep her sanity. It’s all she has left. She barrels through aisles and into the bathroom. A two stall, one sink type. It hardly calms her nerves. A cursory scan shows nothing out of the ordinary. However, her mind gleefully supplies the fact that not all cameras are so obvious. 

She shoulders the stall door open and locks it shut. She stands, unable to do much else than turn her head on a swivel. Like her watch has just notified her of a metaflux. 

It’s as she looks up she recalls Sylus’s safe house. A black dot on the ceiling served as his camera, producing a live feed at all hours of the day. She would have never noticed it without his guidance.

This ceiling is covered in little black dots. 

With a soundless cry, Roni slams into the still locked door. Her trembling hands slip on the cool metal, each mess up increasing her desperation. It shoves free at last. She wrenches open the bathroom door and runs for the front. Her vision narrows on her target. The exit. 

A single moment of clarity. A second of the fresh city air. 

Then, there are needles driving into her skin. They drive her forward. All city life muted. Keep focused. Keep moving.

Roni digs her nails into her arm. It does little to stave off the prickling. Still, she presses harder and harder and harder. Until something gives. Her body cools. A little trickle flowing down her arms. Soothing. 

Her marathon slows to a speedy walk to a full stop. The sensation continues, almost fighting off the needles. Her mind is deliriously fuzzy to the empty streets around her. Standing still, she feels it. A new heat. A new fire. In her chest. In her ankles. It spreads like wildfire. Her thighs. Her throat. 

The burn is so sudden. 

The sidewalk below rushes up. 

With a jolt, everything stops. She burns still. The cooling and the burning at odds along her skin. Yet, the sidewalk stays in front of her. Inches away. Framed by darkness. Her hair, she thinks. 

All these strange sensations. Her mind can’t keep up. A fire in her legs and chest. Cool water running down her arms. Goosebumps shred her skin. And now… warmth. On her arm. Across her back. Pressed to her side. 

No. Not warmth. 

Fingers. 

Not her own. 

Connected to an arm to a… person. A chest presses to her side and an arm is wrapped around her. 

Them. It’s them. 

It must be. 

The needles return with ferocity - torturing her spine. A harsh ice pierces the base of her skull. Her throat throbs painfully under the heat of exhaustion. Air is forcefully rushed in, fueling the flames. 

She tries to whimper. To cry. To anything. 

Just make it stop. 

“Roni!”

The word is familiar. So is the voice. 

Her world shifts - a hand on her cheek. Soft. Gentle. 

Red eyes. 

Red? 

Red-red. Scarlet - no! Blood red. 

No?

No. 

That’s too harsh for this color. 

Roses? 

Carson’s. 

“Roni?” Soft. Gentle. Familiar. 

An anchor to hold her still. To stop the waves of delirious thoughts from taking her. 

Oh. Yes. She knows this voice. She can latch onto him. He’s safe. Familiar. 

It’s as natural as breathing. She leans into his side. Her heart rests. Her mind slows. Numbness washes over her. She watches as everything turns. A black car. An open door. Cool leather embraces her. Sunlight is shut out with a quiet click.  

She can breathe.

-

Part Two (Tumblr)

[cynicalrosebud]

Loyalty & Instinct (2) - Crossfire

Navigation

Series Masterlist

Summary: Gaz and Doll follow Captain John Price into the fray, hoping with everything they have that it wasn't a mistake.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Notes: None, enjoy!

25 OCT 2019

1830

Sgt. Kyle Garrick and K9H Doll

SAS with CTSFO

London, UK

The chaos of Piccadilly Circus overwhelms your senses. The sounds of gunfire, explosions, and terrified screams echo off the buildings as civilians scramble for safety. You move swiftly, keeping pace with Kyle as he and his team rush down the street. Amidst the pandemonium, your heightened senses pick up on everything: the scent of smoke, the crackle of comms, and the subtle shifts in the wind that signal more danger ahead.

An explosion roars nearby, shaking the ground beneath your feet. The cries of the injured mix with the distant wail of sirens, but you push through the noise. You’re focused—your ears twitching at every sound, eyes scanning for threats as you dodge debris and obstacles with ease.

Ahead, you see an Al-Qatala fighter standing atop a car, firing into the crowd. Sgt. Crowley shouts, “On the car!” The team moves quickly, their mission clear.

Kyle’s voice cuts through the chaos as he directs civilians. “Get down! Get to safety!” His orders are sharp, urgent, but you stay close, a steady presence by his side.

Your ears perk as you catch a flicker of movement to the right—a group of Al-Qatala fighters, weapons raised. Instinct takes over, and a sharp bark escapes you, alerting Kyle before the first shot is fired.

“Cst. Fowler, left side!” Kyle calls out, never missing a beat as he opens fire. You’re already moving, your powerful legs launching you toward the nearest enemy. Your movements are precise, lethal—one quick strike and the threat is neutralized.

The fighters begin to retreat, disappearing into nearby buildings. Kyle assesses the situation, glancing toward you. “We need to clear ‘em out.”

You’re already ahead, your nose twitching as the scent of explosives fills your senses. You lead the way into the Aural Chic electronics store, ears pricked as you catch hostile voices from inside.

The door bursts open, and you charge in without hesitation. An Al-Qatala fighter is about to execute a hostage, but you’re faster. With a powerful leap, you take him down, disarming him in one swift motion. Kyle is right behind you, securing the area and freeing the hostages.

“Go! Get safe!” Kyle urges the civilians. He radios Raven, his voice calm but firm. “Raven, Sabre 2. Hostages secured, one suspect KIA. Electronics store. North building.”

“Received. Medical response teams are on the way. Keep clearing those buildings, Sergeant,” Raven responds.

Kyle gives you a quick nod, a silent acknowledgment of your work. Together, you push forward, moving toward the subway entrance where two more Al-Qatala fighters are holding hostages. Your instincts kick in, sensing the immediate danger. You rush ahead, dispatching both enemies with swift, deadly precision.

“Stay down. Stay here,” Kyle instructs the freed hostages, turning to a police constable to ensure their safety. You stand guard, ears flicking in every direction, ready for the next threat.

The mission doesn’t stop as you enter The Reading Place store, where more fighters are holding their ground on the second floor. Your keen senses guide Kyle, and with your help, he coordinates an effective assault, taking down the remaining enemies.

“Book shop secure,” Kyle confirms, checking over the scene as you stand at his side, ever watchful.

Suddenly, a police officer’s urgent voice crackles over the radio. “Sergeant, those civilians at the bus need our help!”

Another officer shouts, “Sir—there’s a hostile near the red bus!”

Kyle doesn’t hesitate. He moves quickly, and so do you, racing alongside him toward the threat. Your heightened senses allow you to pinpoint the attackers before they can do more harm, and you take them down with lethal efficiency.

“Proper shootin’, sir!” one of the officers calls out to Kyle in appreciation.

You give a low growl of acknowledgment, ears twitching as you hear movement ahead. “Contact! Ground floor of the bookshop!” Cst. Fowler warns.

Kyle’s radio buzzes with Raven’s voice. “Sergeant, I need a status on those hostages. Get to the Tanto building, now.”

“There’s hostages in the Tanto building!” an officer shouts.

As you near the building, a suicide bomber wearing a vest charges toward you and Kyle. Your body reacts before you can think, launching forward. You collide with the bomber, giving Kyle just enough time to take the shot, ending the threat before it can harm anyone else.

“Raven, Sabre 2! Officers down outside the Tanto building! Officers down!” Kyle’s voice is steady despite the chaos around you.

The situation is tense, but you remain focused. Kyle lifts a fallen door, only to be attacked by an Al-Qatala fighter wielding a knife. With a single shot, Kyle takes him down. It’s then you notice Captain Price and two SAS soldiers approaching.

“Blue! Blue!” Kyle calls out.

Price gives a sharp nod in your direction. “I see you. You armed up?”

“Yes, sir,” Kyle replies, helping to clear the area.

Price’s eyes settle on you, curiosity flickering in his expression. “And who’s this?” he asks, his tone respectful.

Kyle smiles slightly, placing a hand on your back. “This is my partner, Doll. She’s been with me through thick and thin.”

Price nods, clearly impressed. “Good to have you with us, pup. We could use all the help we can get.”

You dip your head slightly in acknowledgment, your sharp eyes never leaving the scene around you. Price gives Kyle a look, his tone serious. “We’re gonna need all the support we can get to secure the area and protect the hostages.”

With Price’s reinforcement and your senses sharp as ever, the three of you move into the Tanto building, ready to face whatever waits inside.

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Left and Returned: Definitely Nothing Wrong

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Part 2

Ao3

Chapter 3

After the angel heckling, Danny stuck around for the initial explanations. But as the explanations moved from recounting the events into... theological debate... yeah, Danny bailed on that. Look after winning fistfights with a certain amount of beings who claim to be gods, it's hard to be reasonable about that stuff. Danny's opinions on the afterlife are not super helpful to people who aren't living in ectoplasm rich environments.

For now he has a job to do. His ghost sense goes off before he opens the door. So he's not surprised to find the electronics are as fried as you'd expect after a being with the power to cause electrical surges spent a few months running around in it. At least his carbon monoxide detector stays silent.

Little fun fact: carbon monoxide makes spirits restless. Restless spirits cause electrical surges. Continued electrical surges, cause long term electrical fires. If you have the first problem, getting the other two problems becomes a lot more likely.

Less fun fact: Danny has never met a hunter who knows this.

How many hunters have died of carbon monoxide poisoning while they huddled in a salt circle to avoid the angry dead? How many HVAC guys have gotten possessed or murdered? How many people get lucky enough to have both problems sorted only to have something start on fire?

It's a whole thing. Yes, he gives this rant to every hunter he encounters. Hopefully, it sticks with at least some of them. Sam had said he'd do it. Bobby had pulled them over at the nearest hardware store and bought three detectors.

At least he knows it sunk in for someone.

But here the air is clean and normal and smells a little like ectoplasm. He's able to talk down the ghost without the thermos, but she has an electrical core, and he can't replace this much wiring in the time he has. He shows the owner, shuts down the power to the rooms that absolutely will start a fire and gives her some reputable local contacts. It's not ideal, it rarely is. But both the house's owner and the ghost know what they need to do to keep surviving and that's better than things were this morning.

He wishes it felt like victory.

He eats, takes a nap in the back of his van, and when he wakes up he's missed a dozen calls.

Someone is killing hunters. Of course there is.

He forwards the message to Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, and Wes, in case he's gotten mixed up in something new. They all check in. They all mention ghosts behaving... oddly. They agree they have it handled. Jazz asks about Sam.

Danny calls the Winchesters. They don't pick up.

 

---

Regret coils as Dean realizes who's ghost stands before him. He understands exactly why so many friends fell to this, stepping out of reach as she swings at his face. It's hard to do, she has every right to hit him, it's his fault she's dead.

That is why she is here. She's here to get her revenge, and he doesn't even know if the name he knows is her real one.

"It's okay, I'm not a demon."

"You're the girl the demon possessed."

"Meg Masters. Nice to finally talk to you when I'm not, you know, choking on my own blood. It's okay. Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry — was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I'm a prisoner... Now, I was awake. I had to watch while she murdered people."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, yeah? So sorry you had me thrown off a building?"

"Well, we thought— "

She shoves him, not with the strength of a girl puppeted by a demon, not with the strength of a ghost. She shoves him with the strength of a young woman who never lifts more than her college books. That's why he stumbles to the ground. "No, you didn't think! I kept waiting, praying! I was trapped in there screaming at you! 'Just help me, please!' You're supposed to help people, Dean. Why didn't you help me? "

"I'm sorry. "

"Stop saying you're sorry!" She approaches quick, ready to kick him. He's going to let her too, but the blow doesn't come.

She screams in fury as she's lifted by her waist. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be ridden for months by pure evil?! While your family has no idea what happened to you?!"

Danny holds her arms, stopping her from continuing her assault.

Meg continues, "It wasn't just me, I had a sister. A little sister.  You know how little siblings are, right? How they depend on you. She was never the Same after I disappeared. She just... she just got lost. And when my body was lying in the morgue beat-up and broken..."

She stops struggling, going limp as she tries to continue.

"Say what you need to say, we're listening." Danny tells her.

"She killed herself, she needed me and I wasn't there." Tears pool in her eyes. "All he was thinking about was his family, his revenge, his demons! 50 words of Latin a little sooner, and I—

She chokes on her sobs, "and I'd still be alive. My baby sister might still be alive."

Kid holds her up as she crys. Wet, gross, snotty crying, not like the pretty tears on TV. Kid whispers comforting things and lets her shout accusing things at Dean until she cries herself out.

"Do you remember your door?" He asks her when her breathing's evened.

"Yeah... it's blue, has some stickers..." she murmurs. And Danny gestures to the door across from them, which does not match Bobby's decor.

"Go home, Meg. Go rest." She reaches for the handle ugly brand on her hand turning green and vanishing as she turns it. As the door closes behind her, it's Bobby's door again.

"Dean!" Sam's voice echos from downstairs.

"Here!" Dean responds, grabbing the kid and pulling him after him as he goes to find his brother. "The symbol on her hand, you recognized it?"

"They have no right." Danny snarls.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes."

"What symbol?" Bobby asks, and he looks pretty okay for a guy who went missing when all the other people who went missing had their hearts ripped out. Sam scrambles to draw it for him.

The kid starts to pace the room. "They were at peace . This didn't call the restless dead, it woke the sleeping. They had. No. Right."

"The mark of the witness? " Bobby asks, "I'd have to double check."

"That's a name for it." The kid really sounds completely different when he's this mad.

"Follow me."

 

---

 

"...coated in salt, 100% ghost proof."

Dean watches the kid stumble across the threshold. He'd miss it if he wasn't looking for it. Yesterday, Danny had been wearing his pain on his face for all to see, it made it easier to look past it now. But Dean had seen his dad wear that expression, seen it on his brother, hell, he'd worn it himself a thousand times— Danny was in pain, but determined to push past it. He'd been fine a minute ago. Bobby's bunker was hurting him.

And Dean didn't say a word about it.

Kid had grabbed a ghost, picked her up and sent her home with nothing but himself and some words. Dean didn't know of anything that could do that. He did know that there was a chance Danny had saved him from getting his heart ripped out. Dean probably would've thought of something, but still. He wasn’t gonna kick the kid while he was down, definitely not while he was as determined to stop this as they were.

For what it's worth, he has no issue prepping rock salt for the shotguns as Bobby pages through the book, the silence is enough time for Dean's mind to wander back to earlier.

"See this is why I can't get behind God." Dean tells them.

Sam sighs.

"Still debating theology?" Danny asks.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason — just random, horrible, evil — I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?"

"This is really bothering you."

"It's not bothering you?"

"What I asked Castiel, it was a genuine question."

"What?" Sam asked, they hadn't relayed the amount of angel-poking they'd done.

"He said he was an angel of the Lord. I asked which lord."

"I mean, if he's an angel then he meant God." Sam pointed out.

Danny shrugged. "You've fought gods before. You've told me."

"Pagan gods, Not God."

"I fought a Stormbringer once. When it angered it formed a lightning storm over half the continent. One minute there were clear skies, the next hail like golf balls, tornadoes, floods."

"That freak storm?! That was years ago, boy, how old were you?"

"Fourteen. That's not the point. The point is, that the people who summoned him called him God's wrath, but he called himself Vortex, among other things..." Danny quiets, lost in the memory for a moment. Then he starts back in on the salt rounds, packing them with increased efficiency.

"It was barely an effort for him to bring the country to its knees, and it wasn’t a human who defeated him, when it came down to it." Dean notes the careful phrasing. "I've seen a lot of weird. I think that if Castiel's Lord is the god you're worried about, then he's probably worried about the things strong enough to fight him."

"Danny," Sam says, "that makes this whole thing a lot less reassuring."

"Yeah, that's freaking terrifying, kid."

Danny fits the last of his salt rounds into a bandolier and drops it on the table with a clatter. He grins. "I can make it worse if you want?"

"Let's not, for now. You're right about the mark." Bobby announces. "They witnessed the unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts— they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone Rose them... on purpose."

"Who?" Sam asks.

"Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans—"

"Is there a way to find out?" Danny asked, the murder back in his eyes. They weren't turning colors this time though,  they stayed normal human blue.

"Not that I have here, and we have bigger problems. It's called "the rising of the witnesses." It figures into an ancient prophecy."

"Wait, wait. What kind of prophecy?

"Revelations kind. This is a sign, boys."

"A sign of what?"

"The apocalypse."

"Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?"

"That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a -- a mile marker."

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam asks.

"Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience—"

"Can we focus?! We find a way to send them to the keeper of tales so they're story will be heard and they can be appeased."

"Well, I don't know about all of that... but I've got a spell it just says it will put them back to rest... if I've translate—"

Danny is out of his seat and looking over the book before Bobby could finish.

"—ed it correctly..." he pushes the book so the kid can get a better look.

Dean raises his eyebrows at Bobby, but he's too busy watching the kid to acknowledge.

"This is really old." Danny mutters, "Some names are out of date, but it mentions the roll they fill in the spell so it should work."

"Names out of date... you know better ones, for... the ancient spell?"Dean asks.

He didn't expect the kid to say, "yeah," and pick up a pen.

"Subject matter expert does the spell," Bobby offers, okay. So, Dean missed something, since when does Bobby hand off this stuff? Since when is Danny the 'subject matter expert?'

"I can... or... look, once we start, all the witnesses who haven't been appeased are going to be compelled to stop us. I can add a clause at the beginning, draw them off while you finish the spell."

"I don't know..."

"I'll go with you." Sam volunteers.

"Are we sure we should split up?" Dean asks.

"You'll have a better chance to complete it if you aren't being swarmed by angry ghosts." Sam points out.

"Maybe we should be the bait," Dean suggested, "Both of you know the spell and can troubleshoot if there's problems, Sam and I can't help that."

"Do you know your true names?"

"What?"

"Do you know the name that encompasses all that you are? And can you write it in a way that covers it but prevents it from being stolen."

Dean turns to stare at him, he doesn't look up from the book.

"If you can,  then sure, if not, then we really shouldn't make those bargains and we don't have time for that."

"Is this related to how you're older than you are?" Dean asks, because he was starting to think Danny hadn't actually been delirious after the seance.

"Yeah."

"You gonna explain that?" Bobby asks.

"There was a summer that didn't happen, and some time travel."

"Time travel." Dean repeated.

"Oh, yeah, I think I'm older than I am too..." Sam realizes.

"That doesn't—"

"Remember the timeloop, Dean? I know you don't remember the six months after the timeloop in the timeline where the Trickster refused to let you live."

"What?!"

"I'm done modifying the spell." Danny said firmly postponing a conversation Dean will be having with his brother.

 

---

Once the fire is started, Bobby burns the paper with Danny's sigils and begins the spell. Dean follows orders, he gathers materials from the near-empty house. Nothing bothers him. He doesn't need the shotgun or the iron fire poker. The spell takes three minutes.

It's another five before Sam and his friend return. They're battered and dirty, but they're alive and they have no serious injuries.

Bobby makes dinner.

They try to help but get kicked out of the kitchen after all the chopping is done.

Sam doesn't tell him about whatever he saw. Dean wonders if he knows what's up with Danny and just won't tell him.

Dinner is hearty and they dont talk because they're too busy eating.

It's been a long day. Yesterday was long too.

Questions can wait till after they sleep, and Dean really wants to sleep.

It's a shame the angel doesn't want him too.