#six ears becomes evil through great effort

[the-monkey-ruler]

Wouldn’t Wūzhīqí make a better dark counterpart/opposite to Wùkōng? Six-Eared Macaque seemed more like an evil What-If.

I do think there is a difference between a counterpart and an opposite. A counterpart is something that completes another person. and an opposite is a person or thing that is totally different from or the reverse of someone or something else.

Wuzhiqi sadly does not have a lot of lore around them to be a proper counterpart to Wukong, nor would it be fair to deprive them of their individuality for the sake of this story where the Six Ears is meant to be Wukong’s doppelgänger. Six Ears is an evil what if but that is what makes him the best counterpart to Wukong as well. Six Ears isn't meant to be the opposite of Wukong, he is meant to be his foil. Exactly like him in every way but choosing every wrong path to instill fear into Wukong of what he could be. Wuzhiqi rather is what Wukong could never be, which could be argued as a better 'opposite' would take away the impact of being a good counterpart.

Wuzhiqi is a great character but from what I have seen is more treated like a force of nature rather than a deliberate opponent. Wuzhiqi has a nature of chaos within them but it seems to be treated as a part of their nature rather than a conscious choice for them to wreak havoc due to any hubris or ego they might have. Not saying they that can't have that but it is just never explored enough to be anything concrete. It is very vague even on even what Wuzhiqi's crimes as they were mostly seen to cause flooding or bring trouble to sailers but it never seems to be out of malice but rather just in their nature as a water spirit.

Similarly, both Wuzhiqi and the Six Ears both do not have a connected past with Wukong. I think that there are too many disconnects to really hone in on how Wuzhiqi is supposed to be “evil” one, but rather I see that about is how Wuzhiqi could be seen as the “defeated” one. With Wuzhiqi, their story is set up that they were born to cause destruction while in the case with the Six Ears he is meant to show what Wukong would be if he kept choosing to be destructive.

This could lead to a different but still wonderful literary analysis about the difference between "born evil" and "becoming evil" and comparing how Wuzhiqi is framed to be a beast that is meant to be captured and contained and how this point of view is forced on Wukong in a similar manner. When Wukong commits a crime he is treated the same as Wuzhiqi where heaven's only goal is to capture and contain him. But where Wuzhiqi's story ends, Wukong's story is just beginning as he is given a second chance, proving that he isn't a mindless beast that needs to be caged but rather he is capable of self-reflection and understanding his actions have consequences. We get that deeper level of understanding and even humanity with Wukong.

Wuzhiqi isn't given a sympathetic viewpoint, but rather to be treated more as a flat character. While Six Ears isn't given a lot of backstory, we are given that he is a spiritual monkey. While he is undoubtedly mean to be Wukong's evil 'what if' he is still created in a frame that he is his own person, and thus has his own choices that he has made. He is meant to be seen to have the exact same tools as Wukong, and the same conscious awareness. He is meant to be the worst aspects of Wukong but only because he made those CHOICES to where he is. Six Ears is meant to show a Wukong that doesn't change his ways, and always chooses to do wrong when he knows better. Six Ears is unique in that he is always meant to show the worst parts of Wukong and while Wukong may NOT be like, he is it as a warning that he COULD be like that. That is what makes him a counterpart, showing all of Wukong's parts and he still is able to face the worst of himself.

Wuzhiqi could offer a different threat to Wukong but still in a similar way. The idea is that while Wukong isn't born "evil" such as the Wuzhiqi is described but rather that he has the choice to do evil. Wuzhiqi is never given an inner monologue or much of a backstory but we are given the idea that Wuzhiqi is a demon that was born out of nature and is doing what comes naturally, thus having Yu the Great having to come down to stop them. There is no hope for redemption for Wuzhiqi cannot change what they are, a flood demon.

Wukong on the other hand could be forced to face that he isn't the same. That he can't blame his nature for why he is what he is, and yes he is a yaoguai who grew up around other yaoguai, but he is still an intelligent and emotionally competent man who, in the end of the day, made his own choices that lead him to where he is. He chooses to be antagonistic and undermine heaven at every turn. Mostly done under impulsive choices where he didn't think it though, but he can't blame anyone else when he was the one that he didn't think his actions through. That is where Six Ears is meant to represent that side of Wukong that keeps choosing to make mistakes even when he knows better, but can't let go of his own ego or pride.

Wuzhiqi has the excuse that they are following their nature, but Wukong has to fight their impulses every day to do good. This could be a good point that Wuzhiqi could show what Wukong could never be, a mindless yaoguai who is a slave to their impulses and only looking for destruction. But because Wukong was never meant to be framed as such, as it would take away the impact of being a solid counterpart to Wukong. Rather he needed a foil character that is similar to him, another demon that is meant to represent Wukong's choices in life, rather than saying it was in his nature. To blame Wukong's nature for what he is would be taking away agency from his choices, and that is why Six Ears is meant to be a good counterpart by showing that 'what-if' side of himself.

At most the greatest similarity these two have is definitely how they are trapped under the mountain however, while Wukong was able to gain another chance and find redemption Wuzhiqi is still under the mountain and being guarded because they cannot change. It is because of that lack of agency that Wuzhiqi is given that they couldn't be utilized to the fullest extent to show Wukong's actions having consequences. They could offer a good insight into what a true mindless beast would be like and what stereotypes Wukong is forced to face with but there Six Ears offer more of that interpretation battle within Wukong of facing the worst aspects of himself that wouldn't be able to find within Wuzhiqi.

[candycandy00]

The League of Villains Heroes Prologue 5: Mr. Compress

Author's Note: This is a long, multi-chapter story about what happens after the end of the story, how the remaining members of the League of Villains adapt to their new lives full of therapy and new jobs and new relationships. But, when they get dragged into a fight against an ancient evil trying to take over the planet, this group of former villains might have to become a group of reluctant heroes.

Basically, this is me giving the League the ending they deserve, but they're still facing challenges. Shigaraki is alone for the first time in his life, even as he goes through extensive therapy. Dabi is trying to repair his relationship to his family while searching for a new purpose in life, Toga is exploring a new love, Spinner is thriving as a popular streamer, and Mr. Compress is starting a family of his own. But all of it gets interrupted by a new threat.

No smut. Some strong language and violence later on.

Prologue 1: Shigaraki Prologue 2: Dabi Prologue 3: Toga Prologue 4: Spinner Prologue 5: Mr. Compress

When Sako Atsuhiro, formerly known as Mr. Compress, had woken up in the hospital, the first thing he felt was pain. It was unlike anything he’d felt before, as if pain was seeping into his body through every pore. He vaguely thought he’d been put through a wood chipper. 

The second thing he felt was confusion. From the scenery around him, it was clear he was in a hospital room, with the stark white walls and machines beside his bed connected to him by various tubes and wires. But what was he doing here? He’d been riding on Machia’s back, heading toward Shigaraki, and then…

A gasp sounded in the room, and with great effort he rolled his head to the side to look for the source. A pretty nurse in bright blue scrubs stood just inside the door. She pulled a phone from her pocket and quickly pressed a few buttons, holding it to her ear as she walked over to his bed. “Patient 13 is awake,” she said into the phone, then returned it to her pocket. She leaned over him, and even through the haze of pain, he couldn’t help noticing how well she filled out those scrubs. 

“Hello there,” she said in a bright voice. “Can you speak? Can you tell me your name?”

He looked at her for a moment, trying to remember how to talk. He slowly opened his mouth and said, “Mr…. Compress.”

She smiled at him. “What about your real name?”

What was his real name again? No one had called him by it for a long time now. But he was pretty sure it was, “Sako. Sako… Atsuhiro.”

“That’s right! Good! Do you know where you are, Sako-san?”

He glanced around the room again, and was hit with another wave of unrelenting pain, the kind that overrode all other thoughts. He groaned and said, “Everything hurts.”

The nurse reached across him and pushed a button attached to one of his tubes. “There you go. That should help with the pain. Now do you know where you are?”

Atsuhiro blinked up at the ceiling as he felt the pain begin to retreat. Not go away, but lessen slightly. “I’m in a hospital,” he finally said. 

“Yes, that’s right,” the nurse replied. “You were hurt very badly. You were unconscious for six days.”

He groaned again and made a feeble attempt to sit up. He instantly regretted it, as his head swam with dizziness and nausea assaulted his stomach. The nurse eased him back down. “Try not to move. You don’t want to reopen your wounds. Do you remember how you were injured?”

“I fought some heroes… I think.” His eyes shifted back to all the machines and tubes. “Looks like I lost.”

Around that time the door opened and two doctors walked in. One was introduced as a surgeon. They talked, far too quickly for Atsuhiro’s foggy brain to keep up with, about operations they’d already done and procedures they still needed to do, then something about skin grafts and plastic surgery and a whole lot of other things he didn’t understand in his current state. 

He interrupted them by asking, “Where are my marbles?”

The doctors looked at each other as if wondering how to answer. Looking back, he realized they were probably afraid he had weapons stored in them. Though how they expected him to stage an attack and escape when he could barely turn his head to one side was beyond him. 

The nurse, however, immediately went to a cabinet and pulled out a small plastic bag. Inside it were his marbles, and she helpfully opened the bag before reaching it to him. With weak, trembling fingers, he pulled out a few and decompressed them. Out popped several bloody chunks of meat. His meat, specifically. They flopped out in his bed, and the doctors quickly pulled on gloves and began examining them. 

“These are the parts you gouged out?” one of them asked. 

Atsuhiro nodded. 

The nurse was pulling on her own gloves as she said, “They were perfectly preserved!”

The surgeon agreed with a curt nod. “We might be able to use them for the skin grafts. Gather them up.”

Atsuhiro was watching them slide the chunks of his body into plastic bags when he passed out. 

*****

The next few weeks were a blur of operations, more pain, and plenty of humiliation. He was poked and prodded, had his catheter checked by several different nurses, tossed and rolled while even more nurses bathed him and changed his sheets. He wondered if they had to be so rough. He ended up clicking the button for his morphine drip like he was Shigaraki playing one of his video games. 

The nurses and other staff looked at him coldly at best and with outright hostility at worst. They did their jobs to keep him alive but they clearly had no interest in interacting with him beyond what was necessary. He didn’t really blame them. He was a villain after all. Even if he hadn’t personally committed any truly heinous acts, like killing innocent civilians, he had certainly assisted other villains in (among other things) killing heroes. So he accepted their scorn. 

The only bright spot in this whole nightmare was the nurse he’d met when he first awakened. He learned her name was Ami, and she was the only person who smiled when she saw him, who spoke to him with a sweet, kind voice, who treated him like… well, not a dangerous villain. 

Ami was short and plump, with curves that were very hard to ignore. She wore her long hair tied back, and her finger nails were always painted a different color each time he saw her. She had a cute face that was even cuter when she laughed. There was a softness to her that made Atsuhiro wonder what it would feel like to wrap his arms around her. 

One day he heard children’s laughter coming from the hallway, and he turned his head toward the open door. Two kids, a girl who looked around seven and a boy a bit younger, ran up to Ami, chatting happily. He distinctly heard the word “mom”. 

Ah, so she’s a mother. She’s probably married then. 

Later, when Ami came into his room, he said, “Cute children.” He was still too weak for lengthy conversations, so he’d been forced to abandon his normal way of talking to be more direct. 

Ami laughed. “You think so? They’re rowdy brats most of the time, but they’re my rowdy brats so I have to love them.”

Atsuhiro gave her a little smile. “I have some experience,” he said in a strained voice, “looking after rowdy brats.”

She laughed again and gently patted his arm. 

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “When can I have my prosthetic back?”

Her eyes fell upon the empty space where his left arm used to be. “I’ll talk to the doctor again. It’s a security issue, so I’m not sure if I can convince them.”

He sighed. “They still think I’m dangerous? I couldn’t hurt a fly in my condition.” He was weak, in a lot of pain, full of drugs, and was rendered quirkless by a metal band on one ankle that neutralized quirks. They’d put it on him as soon as he started spending more time awake than unconscious. 

*****

Several days later, Ami was in Atsuhiro’s room, checking the machines and making light conversation, when a large man in a dark jacket appeared in the room, closing the door and locking it behind him. 

Ami turned to face him, and the look of terror on her face told Atsuhiro she knew this man. “Seijirou?!” she asked in a shocked voice. Then she seemed to steady herself as she said, “You can’t be here. This is a hospital. I’m working.” 

The hulking man she called Seijirou stepped closer. “I can be wherever I want,” he said, “and I don’t give a fuck if you’re working. You’re coming home with me.”

Ami was edging around the room step by step, her back now against the wall facing Atsuhiro. Was she trying to find a way past the man, to get out the door? Or was she trying to put some distance between herself and Atsuhiro, not wanting to involve her patient in whatever might happen? 

When she spoke again, she still used an even, calm voice. “Seijirou, we’re divorced, remember? You’re violating the restraining order. If you leave right now, I won’t report this. We can pretend you were never here.”

Seijirou rushed toward her so fast she barely had time to shrink back against the wall before his open palm struck her face. She looked back at him, now cradling her bright red cheek, her bottom lip torn and bloody. 

Atsuhiro’s eyes widened in shock. He didn’t think he’d ever hated someone so immediately as he did this man. He tried to push himself up from the bed, but pain and nausea shoved him back down. 

Ami glanced at him, and the expression on her face made Atsuhiro’s chest ache. She looked at him as if she was worried about him, as if she was embarrassed that he had to witness this display, and most heartbreaking of all, as if she was used to this. The idea that anyone could be used to being treated this way was appalling. 

Her focus returned to Seijirou, and though she was obviously still trying to speak in a calm, deescalating manner, her voice had a tremble to it. “Please, Seijirou,” she said, “You’re going to get in trouble if you stay. Please just go, before anything bad happens.”

“Are you threatening me?” Seijirou demanded, grabbing her by the arm. “You have another man already, whore?”

She didn’t try to pull free, as if she knew it would be no use. Atsuhiro wondered with horror how many times she’d been grabbed like this before. He felt disgusted at himself for being too weak to help her. If he didn’t have that band on his ankle, maybe he could have just compressed the guy and sealed him away. 

Seijirou leaned in close to her face. “You belong to me, Ami. Forever.” 

With that, Seijirou dragged Ami to the empty bed on the other side of the room, beyond a half-pulled curtain, and threw her onto it. She lost her composure then, screaming for him to stop and thrashing about. From his bed, Atsuhiro could only see her legs kicking wildly and Seijirou’s on top of them. 

“Hey, stop!” Atsuhiro tried to yell, but his voice was so weak he doubted either of them heard him over Ami’s cries. He heard another slap, then the sound of fabric ripping, then Ami’s screams turning to sobs. 

In that moment, Atsuhiro knew he had to do something. He might have been a villain. He might have killed people. But he was still a human being, and no one could call themselves human if they let something like this happen without doing everything in their power to stop it. 

He used his right arm to grip the railing on the side of his bed, then pulled himself up to a sitting position, trying hard to ignore the pain. He gave his morphine drip a few extra clicks, and pushed the nurse call button. Unfortunately, the only nurse who responded to his calls quickly was already in the room. The others, likely because of their distaste for him, often took at least ten to fifteen minutes to appear. 

With enormous effort, he slid his legs around to let them drop off the side of the bed, his bare feet touching the cold tile floor. A pair of physical therapists had been to his room a couple of times to help him stand up for a few minutes, but he’d been so weak both times that they practically held him up like a puppet. 

He was quirkless at the moment, in excruciating pain, dizzy and loopy from the morphine, and his body didn’t seem capable of doing what his foggy brain commanded it to. Still, Ami’s sobs drove him to keep moving, keep trying. 

He heard another hit, this one sounding like a punch more than a slap, and Ami’s struggling legs went still. She was still crying, but was quieter now. 

Atsuhiro grabbed hold of the metal pole holding all the liquid medicines dripping into his veins, using it to steady himself as he stood up. The room lurched, he was certain he was falling to the floor, but somehow he held onto the pole and kept himself upright. Then he took his first painful steps toward the other bed. 

When he reached it, he pulled the curtain back. He found Ami on her back, most of her hair free from the ponytail, her face bloody and already bruising, tears pouring from her eyes, her shirt ripped open with that monster’s hands shoved under her bra and his face buried in her neck. Her eyes found Atsuhiro, and she looked horrified. She shook her head back and forth, as if to say, “Don’t get involved! You’ll be hurt!”

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, then he lifted the metal pole and swung it down on Seijurou’s head with every ounce of strength he had. 

Seijirou jolted, climbing off the bed and looking at Atsuhiro with confusion as one hand moved to the back of his head. He pulled the hand away to see that it was covered in blood. He took one step toward Atsuhiro, murder in his eyes, then he stumbled and fell over sideways, crashing to the floor. Atsuhiro hoped he was dead. 

Ami was sitting up on the bed, pulling her ripped shirt together. “Sako-san, your wounds!” 

Atsuhiro looked down, saw several splotches of dark red forming on his hospital gown, and promptly passed out. 

*****

Hours later, Atsuhiro woke up to find Ami sitting in a chair beside his bed. She was wearing a different shirt and her hair was completely loose, spilling over her shoulders. He hadn’t realized how pretty her hair was. Her face was a mess, a black eye, bloody lips, swollen cheek. But when she noticed his eyes were open, she smiled at him. She stood up quickly and stepped closer to his bed, her hands gripping the railing on the side. Two of her blue fingernails were broken. 

“Sako-san! I’m so sorry!” She blurted the words out tearfully, lightly bowing her head. 

Atsuhiro was confused again. What did she have to apologize for? “Sorry for what?” he asked her weakly. 

She was crying again, her voice shaking. “For dragging you into that mess! Your wounds reopened! They had to do emergency surgery. All because of me…”

“Please don’t say that,” he replied, trying to put some strength into his words. “You did nothing wrong. That man… he’s the one to blame.”

She took hold of his hand, still crying, and said, “Thank you, Sako-san, for saving me!”

He blushed slightly, not accustomed to accepting heartfelt gratitude. He missed his mask, because he’d depended on it for years to hide his expressions. No one knew it, but without the mask and the hat and the costume, he was a bit shy. “No thanks needed,” he said, a little of his theatrical tone sneaking back into his voice. “I did what anyone would do.”

There was an awkward silence, then Ami noticed she was still holding his hand. She quickly released it and dropped her hands to her sides. 

“What happened to him?” Atsuhiro asked, wanting to change the subject. Even though he remembered her ex husband’s name, he didn’t feel right speaking it to her. 

“Oh, don’t worry! He didn’t die.”

Atsuhiro was a little confused. Why would he worry about that absolute garbage human? But then he realized that normal, non-villain people probably would worry about potentially killing someone. 

Ami went on. “He was just unconscious for a while. They checked him down in the ER to be safe, then the police arrested him. They said he’ll definitely go to prison this time, no matter how rich his parents are.”

Ah, that explained a lot. So Seijirou’s family had been keeping him out of trouble, which was probably why he felt like he could get away with anything. Atsuhiro hated that sort of thing. Maybe he’d gotten it from his ancestor, but rich and powerful folks taking advantage of those weaker than them made Atsuhiro feel a sort of anger he rarely experienced. And here he was thinking he couldn’t hate the man any more than he already did. 

He didn’t ask Ami why she’d married such a brute. He didn’t want her to feel like he was judging her or, worse, blaming her. But she told him anyway. She told him how she’d married straight out of high school, to the first and only man who had called her beautiful, how she could now see that Seijirou had preyed on her insecurities. She talked briefly of the abuse that began shortly after the birth of their first child, how the second child had been an accident, how she’d stayed with Seijirou for the sake of the children. Then she told him how Seijirou had hit their young daughter, and how she immediately took the children and left. “I could put up with him hitting me,” she said, “but I would rather die than let anyone hurt my kids.” There was a messy divorce, threats and actual attacks by Seijirou leading to the restraining order, and now this. 

When she finished her story, she looked down as if embarrassed. “I’m sorry to dump all this on you. I just felt like I should explain.”

Atsuhiro looked at her, at this sweet angel of a woman, and couldn’t fathom how anyone could intentionally hurt her. “I’m sorry all that happened to you,” he said. “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

She smiled, and he was struck by how lovely and bright her smile was even when she was covered in bruises. 

*****

Weeks later, Atsuhiro was finally deemed healthy enough to stand trial for his crimes. In her infinite kindness, Ami had kept him updated on what had happened to his comrades. All of them had been given prison time, of course, but with surprisingly short sentences. From what Ami had heard about the very public trials, they had all relied quite heavily on the defense that they had been manipulated by All for One. Atsuhiro believed that defense, especially in Shigaraki’s case, but it had mostly worked because his comrades were young, or at least had encountered All for One at a young age. Atsuhiro, being in his thirties, couldn’t use that same defense. 

At the trial, he’d been shocked to see Ami walk in.  She testified as a character witness, telling the story of how he’d saved her from a violent attack, even though he’d further injured himself in the process. She’d been quite passionate when describing his heroism, and pleaded with the judge to give Atsuhiro a chance to show that he could do good things. 

Apparently her pleas worked. Atsuhiro was given a one year sentence, to be followed by five years of probation and mandatory check ins with a hero. It was far shorter than he’d expected, and he’d smiled and thanked Ami before they took him away. He was certain it was the last time he would see her. 

Prison wasn’t as terrible as he feared. He wasn’t placed with the worst of the worst, probably because there had been a severe lack of evidence that he’d been especially violent with anyone. His comrades hadn’t told the authorities about anything he’d done. In fact, all of them had described him as a “support member” who mostly helped manage supplies or secured a place for them to stay while they were on the run. He’d never done either of those things, so he knew they were trying to help him in their own ways.  

They had all remained silent about the racist cult they’d taken out. Atsuhiro had killed three of those cultists himself, but he had zero regrets about that. While rummaging through the cult’s hideout, they’d found pictures of heteromorphs tied to chairs, various wounds covering their bodies as if they’d been tortured. Some of them looked younger than Toga. The League had burned the pictures in disgust, and left the hideout sooner than planned, all of them feeling uncomfortable even being under that roof. 

There were villains, and then there were monsters. Atsuhiro believed that very strongly. 

One day he had a surprise visitor to the prison. The pro hero, Best Jeanist had come to talk to him. Atsuhiro couldn’t imagine what the hero could possibly have to say to him, but agreed to speak with him regardless. 

“I want to apologize for the wounds you suffered while escaping my fibers,” the hero said. “I’ve never seen anyone turn themselves into distressed denim to that degree.”

Atsuhiro was a bit taken aback, but he put on his best performer’s smile and said, “That’s quite alright. I chose to wound myself to escape.”

Best Jeanist gave him an agreeable nod, then said, “I’ve also come with an offer. How do you feel about me being your designated hero to check in with during your probation?”

Again, Atsuhiro was surprised. He hadn’t given much thought to who he would be checking in with. He assumed he’d get stuck with some low level hero with too much time on their hands. But Best Jeanist? One of the highest ranked heroes? It would certainly be interesting. There was a theatricality to the hero that Atsuhiro appreciated. So he agreed. 

He was released from prison three months early due to impeccable behavior. He found a small apartment to rent, got a job with a storage company where he specialized in storing large objects, and began the process of restarting his life. 

A month into this new life, he ran into Ami at a convenience store. She was buying snacks for her kids, who were excitedly throwing treats into her basket as she tried to calm them down. 

“Sako-san?” she asked when she noticed him. 

He walked over and greeted her, suddenly feeling nervous. She looked really nice in her T-shirt and denim shorts, her hair down. Her fingernails were pink today. 

She didn’t ask how long he’d been out of prison. She was too polite to ask such a thing in public. Instead she asked the more vague, “How have you been?”

They talked for a little while. She introduced him to her children as “a friend”. Then she glanced at the various cups of ramen and other ready-made meals in his basket and said, “Would you like to come over for dinner?”

Atsuhiro grinned at her and said, “I’d love to.”

*****

Over the next few weeks, Atsuhiro began dating Ami. He got to know her daughter Mika, eight years old, and her son Ren, six years old. He won them over quickly with simple magic tricks and stories of meeting famous heroes. He didn’t mention that he’d been on the villain side when he met those heroes, but he figured he and Ami could discuss that with them later, if the topic came up. 

Once Atsuhiro even took them to meet Best Jeanist, who was amazingly adept at dealing with kids. He’d used thick fibers to make a hammock, then gently swung them as they laughed and cheered. 

Six months into the relationship, Ami had asked Atsuhiro if he wanted to move in with her and the children. He happily accepted. 

For the first time, Atsuhiro’s life felt stable. He had a family he adored, children who looked up to him even though he wasn’t their father, a woman who was always happy to see him, who encouraged him, who was finally beginning to believe him when he told her she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. 

And now, three whole years after Shigaraki and the others had been caught, after their war on hero society was officially over, Atsuhiro found himself in a new conflict. 

How best to propose to Ami. 

He’d already bought a ring. He’d even shown it to Best Jeanist at their last check in. The hero, who had become something resembling a friend over the past two years, seemed happy for him, urging him to go ahead with the proposal. He’d told Spinner, whom he met with occasionally for drinks, about his plans. The other former members of the League knew he was living with his girlfriend, but little else about the situation. 

He was certain of his feelings. He wanted to be with Ami forever, and recently the kids had started calling him “Atsu-papa,” which made his heart nearly burst. The only reason for his hesitation was that he wasn’t sure how Ami felt about getting married again. Her last marriage had been a disaster, so he couldn’t blame her for being wary. How best to assure her that things would be different this time? He would rather gouge out chunks of his own body again than ever hit her.  

And so, as he sat at his favorite bar killing time while Ami worked a late shift and the kids were spending the weekend at Ami’s parents’ house, he decided to seek courage from his former comrades. He would invite them all for a League reunion this evening, and tell them about his plans. He wasn’t sure they would care, but even their dismissive attitudes or jokes at his expense could cheer him on, in their own strange ways. 

He pulled out his phone, typed up an invitation, and sent it to the four people he still cherished, even if he hadn’t seen some of them in months. 

He had plenty of time until the scheduled meetup, so he stepped outside for some fresh air. It was cold enough for him to see his breath, and he tightened his coat around himself as a few snow flurries drifted by. He was wearing gloves that Mika and Ren had given him for Christmas. Just looking at them made him feel warmer. 

As he stood there scrolling through his phone, a bright light suddenly burst from the alley beside the bar. It was bright enough to be clearly visible even in the daytime, so he stepped over to check it out. A few other people on the street were gathering there as well, and someone screamed in terror. 

Just as he looked down the alley, he caught a glimpse of something his mind just could not comprehend. There was what appeared to be a round, glowing purple door floating in midair, like a portal. And leaving through that portal was some sort of creature. Not human. Not animal. Atsuhiro couldn’t even begin to describe it, for he only got a brief glimpse of it before it disappeared, and the purple portal vanished into thin air. 

[sketching-shark]

Monkie kid fandom: o well macaques a morally grey character he’s got a traumatic past and Sun Wukongs so mean and evil for leaving him

Reality: Macaque is literally ment to the representative of Sun Wukongs EVIL side and having a “traumatic past” doesn’t justify literally trying to kill people who had nothing to do with it he also traumatised Mk because he can and because he’s connected to Sun Wukong. Sun Wukong choose to change his ways macaque just decided “you no what am going to kill this monk because he’s connected to somebody who left me.” I don’t understand how people try so hard to Villainise Sun Wukong when’s he’s literally ment to be one of the first ever superheroes. 

Haha oh geez that is how it often feels.

Like at this point there does seem to be something of an effort to make Sun Wukong look bad in order to absolve Macaque of a lot of wrong-doing...But as you mentioned, besides it being the case that the Six-Eared Macaque was originally made to function as a representative and/or living embodiment of Sun Wukong's anger and violent tendencies (hence why Sun Wukong's a lot less prone to sudden acts of violence after he kills the six-eared simian in JTTW), given all the murder attempts and manipulation and literal acts of kidnapping/brainwashing/mind control he's committed in the lego monkey show, personally I feel like the dude is pretty much as viciously jealous & as willing to throw people under the bus to achieve his aims as he is in Journey to the West.

Like I know that Monkie Kid diverges from JTTW in a number of ways (a big change being that Sun Wukong had beat up a lot of demons instead of smashing them into meat patties lol), but one of the things that does feel like it's being lost in translation, as it were, is that the Six Ear Macaque was a villain not just because he beat up the Tang Monk, but because he wanted to take over Sun Wukong's entire life and identity so he could have all that glory and prestige for himself. To quote the macaque himself from the Anthony C. Yu translation, "I struck the T'ang monk and I took the luggage...precisely because I want to go to the West all by myself to ask Buddha for the scriptures. When I deliver them to the Land of the East, it will be my success and no one else's. Those people of the South Jambudvipa Continent will honor me then as their patriarch and my fame will last for all posterity." And in order to do this, the Six Eared Macaque had apparently made Sun Wukong's "little ones," his monkey family, his captives through either trickery or force, and gotten a number of them to take on the appearance of Tang Sanzang and the other pilgrims. It's also made clear that in direct contrast to Sun Wukong he doesn't care about these monkeys beyond how they might serve him, given that after Sha Wujing kills the monkey posing as him the Six Eared Macaque not only all but immediately replaces him with another, but also "told his little ones to have the dead monkey skinned. Then his meat was taken to be fried and served as food along with coconut and grape wines." So this monkey is not only willing to risk the lives of a lot of other monkeys for his own benefit, but is also a literal cannibal.

In Monkie Kid (at least according to Macaque, who is an unreliable narrator at best), he had been best of friends with Sun Wukong before Sun Wukong presumably went off to live in Heaven & abandoned all of his friends on Earth. And it is true that in Journey to the West, Sun Wukong had spent over a century of earthly years in heaven just enjoying himself before he gets into trouble by ruining the Immortal Peach Banquet and heading back down to his yaoguai kingdom. So in that regard, Macaque does have justification to hate Sun Wukong for having brought heaven's army to their mountain (of course you could say that starting a war over one banquet is a bit of an overreaction but that's a conversation for another day). What this does omit, however, is that the main reason Sun Wukong went to heaven in the first place is to see if he could get all of his monkeys to live up there, that he had spent centuries fortifying Flower Fruit Mountain from any and all threats beforehand, and that he brings back a bounty of immortality-granting wine, which all the monkeys eagerly drink. And perhaps most importantly, in the following war with heaven itself all of the assembled yaoguai were behind Sun Wukong 100%. He had already done so much for them, and they had already heard about how their great king was made to serve as a stable hand in heaven, and so got some sense of how little the heavens thought of them. This isn't to say that the Six Eared Macaque doesn't have reason to be mad at Sun Wukong or that the Monkey King doesn't share a lot of the blame for the events that led to the burning of Flower Fruit Mountain, but rather to say that all the assembled yaoguai weren't dragged into this war kicking and screaming. They seem to have regarded it as much as a power struggle with great potential rewards and which they could win as much as Sun Wukong did.

But going back to this version of the Six Eared Macaque, I find him interesting because I read him not as morally grey but rather as this frightening, somewhat tragic figure who's jealously of and resentment against Sun Wukong seems to have festered and grown to the point where it's become the sole defining feature of his life; like he's just gone from wanting to literally be Sun Wukong to wanting revenge against the Monkey King, and in all his centuries of living he hasn't allowed anything else to shape his life. After 500 years of apparently not really doing anything, after Sun Wukong made a reappearance Macaque just seem to be targeting anyone and anything that he thinks will let him hurt Sun Wukong, no matter the cost to others or to himself. It's like he was put into the role of Sun Wukong's doppelganger/shadow/evil clone, and he's now hellbent on staying in that position, no matter how much it hurts him or holds him back from cultivating his own individuality or his own story because that's the only way he feels he gain back his past power and/or stay connected to the Monkey King. There is something really tragic about a character who feels so damaged by and/or is so obsessed with the past that they stay in this stagnant position where they never even attempt to try something different from their destructive and self-damaging behavior, but that's precisely what makes Macaque a good villain as well. Besides being a clever and calculating villain, he never developed a sense of morality like Sun Wukong, he still treats everyone around him like tools, and his self-righteousness gives him "permission" to be a relentless monster to MK, all of MK's loved ones, and Sun Wukong himself. I know it's pretty common in media these days to start a villain down the path of redemption & into the bosom of team good guy by having them be hurt by an even worse villain, but personally I would love to see a story arc where Macaque actually has a realization of how horrible his behavior has been and to feel genuine remorse for it (maybe brought about by the violence he's likely suffering at the hands of the Lady Bone Demon, in a kind of "hey being manipulated and hurt for the benefit of others actually sucks oh no I can't believe I thought it was okay when I did it"), but then also has to face the consequence of his former student and former best friend (actually likely the entire monkie crew given the whole kidnapping/brainwashing/mind-controlling thing) never wanting anything to do with him again & cutting him out of their lives completely. I think he could still change for the better under such a scenario, but the seriousness of his bad actions shouldn't be swept under the rug.

In conclusion, I think a "redemption without forgiveness" story line could work really well for Monkie Kid's version of the Six-Eared Macaque in a kind of "you can't just do horrible things and then cry about your past like that somehow makes it okay" way, and smh at the Monkie Kid fandom for all the work put into giving Sun Wukong and only Sun Wukong flak for his and Macaque's fight.

Like if you have to demonize the Monkey King, at least go after him for having been a warlord.

[astarryon]

1980s Horror Film

No Good Deed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: typical criminal minds stuff

Chapter Summary: You’re beginning to think your unadulterated hatred for unknown phone calls is actually justified.

A/N: The first installment of my Halloween inspired mini series! This fic was dreamt up during a very long, very intoxicated conversation with @johnmulaneyslut​ and my mind hasn’t been able to focus on anything else since! I hope y’all enjoy, and if you want me to add you to this fic’s masterlist, shoot me an ask or a message!

Masterlist

—

“There are horrors beyond life’s edge that we do not suspect, and once in a while man’s evil prying calls them just within our range.”

- H.P. Lovecraft

—

The agents were starting to get on your nerves.

There really wasn’t any good reason for it. They were being perfectly kind — when they bothered to talk to you like you were actually in the room, that is, though with three other victims of the deceased variety and a serial killer actively gunning for you, you figure you shouldn’t take that too personally — and the one named Jennifer had asked more times in the last hour than anyone else in your life had in maybe, well, ever if there was anything she could get you. You declined each time, sometimes rudely, sometimes in defeat, but that never stopped her coming back to ask again. When this was all over — and you prayed that an end would come quickly, if only so you could go back to not being quite so on edge — you’d need to be sure to thank her for all her efforts to make you comfortable.

But that wouldn’t come until later, when you were safe, and each of the agents in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI didn’t pause every six seconds to analyze you in some attempt to figure out the psyche of the serial killer gunning to cut you open. In some ways, you understood — you were, currently, the only direct key they had to understanding how the serial killer who was after you selected his victims, though it wasn’t like you could answer any of the questions they had about the matter. Just because you understood, though, didn’t make the wandering eyes any less irritating, and you were counting yourself lucky that they were all just about to head home for the night so you wouldn’t have to worry about snapping in the next few hours.

“Okay,” Jennifer began as she approached, yet another kind smile occupying her features. “I’m stepping out for the night. The rest of the team will be leaving shortly, but our colleague Agent Anderson won’t be far. If there’s anything he can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

You try for a small smile of thanks, but it’s hard to say whether it reaches your eyes. Judging by the poorly concealed concern in Jennifer’s gaze, you don’t think it does. “Thanks, but I’m all set. I already got this cozy cot set up in your boss’ office. What more could a girl ask for?”

Jennifer frowns, something like guilt tightening her perfect features. “I know the situation isn’t ideal, but this is—“

“The safest place for me to be, especially since this psycho likes to strike at night,” you sigh, unable to help a dejected roll of your eyes. “I know. I’m grateful, truly, but this still isn’t exactly what I would call great.”

“We’re gonna catch him,” Jennifer assures you. She sounds so resolutely positive that you’re inclined to believe her, even though there’s the issue that they still can’t even tell you who he is. “Just… try and get some rest tonight, okay? You’re safe here. I’ll have whoever from the team leaves last come check on you one last time before they head out. Good night.”

“Night,” you tell her, and she smiles one last time at you before heading out the office door, once again leaving you to your lonesome.

You should try to get your mind off it, you know. Thinking of something else was imperative to getting to sleep for the night, and though that was the last thing on your mind right now, trying to wind down was certainly more productive thank sinking into your own body numbing panic. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done, and now that you were by yourself, you had all the time in the world to think.

Someone wanted you dead. Someone out there in the world, someone you’d had contact with in your daily life, someone wanted to kill you. You hadn’t managed to get much information out of anybody — There’s no point in working yourself up over it, Jennifer had told you. You’d wanted to scream at her, tell her she’d be of a different opinion if she was the one whose life was hanging in the balance, but you’d managed to hold yourself back. Though you had every excuse in the book to lose your cool, she didn’t deserve you your verbal abuse. Even in your state of frightened paranoia, you could recognize that none of this was her fault.

Why this was happening to you, you didn’t know. You wished you did. If whatever was making you a target for the rampaging serial killer was something changeable, you’d take care of it in a heartbeat. If it was the way you dressed, you’d fix it. If it was your willingness to be kind to strangers, you’d be meaner. Anything, anything to get you out of this terrifying mess. Anything that meant you got to go home and sleep in your own bed and not have to worry about whether someone was going to break in to your apartment and—

“Are you doing okay?”

The gentle voice startled you out of your reverie, though you couldn’t help flinching out of reflex at the sudden intrusion despite how quietly it had been spoken. Blinking yourself back into focus, your eyes shot over to the door, where you found the tall, lanky frame of one of the BAU agents taking up space in the doorway. The one with softer features than the rest, though you didn’t know whether that spoke more to his youth or his naivety. The one with a certain boyish quality about him that you couldn’t quite place, though he carried his head high and had a surprisingly confident set to his jaw, one that contrasted directly with the sheepish, almost bashful tone of voice he’d had when speaking to you. The one whose name you couldn’t quite recall, which was a testament to the ordeal you’d been through in the past few hours because you’d never be careless enough to forget the name of such a beautiful man on any regular day.

The itch of tears trailing down your skin brought you back to your senses, and as you reached up to swat them away, you realized there was no way he hadn’t seen them. “Just peachy,” you snarked, instantly feeling badly over the tone you’d taken. Whatever; there was nothing to be done for it now, and you could agonize over your rudeness when a pretty stranger wasn’t busy witnessing your terror. “Really just having the time of my life. Can’t you tell?”

And you swear if you concentrate, really concentrate, you can just make out the ghost of an amused smile curling the corners of his lip upward in response to your bitter attempt at sarcastic humor, but it quickly becomes overshadowed with concern at spying the tears still brimming in your eyes. “Sorry to interrupt it,” he murmurs, stepping out of the entrance and closing the door behind him, and something about his tone is so meaningful that you believe he’s genuine. He detours by the desk at the far side of the room to pick up the box of tissues sitting on its corner before making his way over to you and setting them on the filing cabinet just beside your cot. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Agent Jareau asked if I would check in on you before I went home for the night.”

You blink, reaching for a tissue and wiping the rest of your tears away, thankful that this man is kind enough not to force you to talk about your emotional state. At his introduction, though, you pause, the familiarity of the name taunting at something in your mind. “You… you’re the one who called me. Before.”

Spencer nods leaning his weight against the filing cabinet he’d set the tissues on and absentmindedly tucking a particularly unruly strand of hair behind his ear. “That was me,” he confirms, leveling another kind smile your way. “I, um, I was actually the one to get you out of your house, too, but… I mean, you were pretty upset, so you might not remember much of that.”

The unfortunate truth, actually, was that you remembered Spencer collecting you from your home and escorting you into the protective arms of the FBI a little too well. More specifically, you remembered having nothing short of a mental breakdown on the phone at the news that a serial killer was targeting you, looking to murder you in some horrible, awfully gruesome manner, and all for some reason that Dr. Reid had declined to inform you of over the phone. He’d been kind enough to talk you through all your debilitating paranoias, kind enough to stay on the phone with you until he’d gotten to your home with his partner — Morgan, if you remembered correctly — and rushed in to make sure you were in one piece. Though he’d told you on the phone that they were just outside, though he’d warned you that they’d be coming in to collect you and take you into protective custody, you’d still lost your mind at the sight of a stranger in your home and immediately rushed him, kicking and screaming and begging for your life, your safety, your… well. Everything, really.

Luckily for Spencer, you were a horrible right hook and ended up doing more damage to yourself than to him, but unluckily for you, you’d been out of your mind in that moment, and had lost the impulse for self preservation. Spencer had calmed you down and restrained you long enough to stop your attempts at gouging his eyes out in self defense, but every last bit of composure you’d been clinging to instantly vanished, and you’d been left a bawling mess, falling apart in the loose, awkward embrace of his arms as you begged him not to let anything happen to you, as you desperately implored him to keep you safe.

More than a little embarrassing once you’d managed to calm down, to say the least.

“Right,” you muttered, dropping your eyes to the floor. It was nothing against Spencer, with his kind eyes and reassuring expression, but you were just about at your wit’s end, here, and you really didn’t have enough composure left in you to be the sweet, dainty girl you assumed he’d enjoy interacting with. “Well, all things considered, I’m just fine. So, if that’s all…”

Instead of taking the hint, instead of leaving you to your solitude and allowing you to wallow in your misery, Spencer simply readjusted his position against the filing cabinet and folded his hands together. “I’m… Look, I don’t mean to pry, but you’re crying, and I… kind of get the feeling that when you say you’re fine, you’re not really telling me the truth.”

“An astute observation, Dr. Reid,” you muttered, wringing your hands together. “Really, someone ought to give you a medal.”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind passing that along to my boss,” Spencer chuckles, and the gentle joke is so at odds with the defensiveness that anyone else would have responded with that it practically jolts you into civility. By the time you realize this, he’s already shifted from the filing cabinet to sitting at the edge of your cot. Not quite close enough to invoke feelings of familiarity, but just enough to let you know that if you want to, you can confide in him. And, it’s silly, but you kind of think you want to. “So… you don’t have to tell me why you’re crying—“

“Oh, thank you for the permission.”

“— but if you want to,” Spencer presses on, “I’m here to listen. No offense, but I imagine pretending nothing’s bothering you gets to be exhausting after a little while.”

“You’d be the expert,” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, but you turn more fully to face where Spencer’s seated himself.

He was being kind to you — that alone was reason enough to grasp at some manners and stop being so defensive, but there was another, more personally beneficial one as well. Jennifer had been awfully tight lipped about the man pursuing you — who he was, what he did to his victims, why he was so interested in you. But… Spencer wasn’t Jennifer. Spencer also felt kind of bad for you. Taking all that into consideration, maybe he would be more willing to give you the answers you were looking for.

More willing, and more interested.

“You know, I do have a few questions” you begin, hugging your legs to your chest and tucking your chin against your knee. You wondered if you looked as small and pathetic as you felt. “I don’t… know that you’d be willing to answer any of them, though.”

Spencer arches a brow at you, and you subconsciously take note of the way that his eyes narrow the slightest bit, though it’s hard to tell whether that’s fascination or a sweeter kind of curiosity. “Well, I can’t try to answer them until you try asking them.”

Alright, well. Worth a shot at least.

“I was wondering...” You trail off and set your jaw, clearing your throat before trying again. “I want to know about the man who’s trying to kill me.”

—

[alice-angel12x]

💠Cruel end( Heartslabyul ver.♥)

There is this neat post on Tumblr from twstpasta. And was a fun au headcanon how Mc or the NRC's s/o was destined to become a great villain, and how the boys felt about it? And I wanted to do my own spin on it with a bit of a crossover. Have you ever watched or read Madoka Magica?

Let's say the Mc/Reader came from the Madoka Magica universe, and she is one of the longest-lasting magical girls, she knows the dark secret and destiny of the magical girl and the consequence of kyubey's contract. Know where she is in twisted wonderland, with no witch to slay and the frequent use of magic to face overblot. Her soul gem is nearly dark, her time is running out. And it didn't help when Crowley proudly announced that she would be destined to be a great villain, this added a great dread on her heart. Crowley none the wiser of what those words really meant for Y/n. Soon the rumor reached the boy's ears. How would they react and watched it all unfold?

♥Riddle Roseheart ♥

*When Riddle heard this he was uncertain how to feel. they were sweet and kind and could never hurt anyone. So he decided to keep a close eye on them.

*Till one day he finally asked her if she was planning to be a villain all along. With a sigh, Y/n explained what her fate really was. From the contract to the soul gem and the witches she slew. And how she will inevitably become a witch herself, to one day being destroyed by another magical girl.

"So why would you make a wish with that awful creature?" Riddle gasped.

"I didn't really have the luxury of being able to think about it. I was just so desperate at the time," Y/n frowned.

"What is your soul gem like know?" Riddle asked in a worried tone.

*Y/n's soul gem was nearly black, and Y/n's sadness wasn't doing her any favors. Riddle hugged her close as he buried his face in her neck as he promised he wouldn't let her turn into a witch.

"I won't let that happen!" Riddle stated as he stood from his chair, " I'll never let you become a witch."

"Riddle, thank you for looking out for me," Y/n thanked as she kissed riddles forehead.

"I don't want to lose you," Riddle said as his eyes grew watery.

*Riddle did all he could to Keep Y/n from using her magic and keeping her spirits up. Y/n greatly appreciated his efforts and was happier. Till another overblot happened and the others weren't strong enough to stop them, so she activated her soul gem.

__They Turn__

*Riddle hugged Y/n's lifeless body close to him as tears ran down his face. After the fight, Riddle watched in horror as Y/n writhed in pain as her soul gem shattered and a horrifying witch appeared.

*The other students watched in horror as the creature started to destroy the school and the dorms. Luckily Crowley found a way to Y/n's world and out stepped another magical girl.

*The battle was fierce and terrifying, but the magical girl was able to destroy the outer shell of the witch.

*Riddle gasped in horror as a small humanoid figure crawled slowly towards him. It reached out its hand as it cried out, but with a swing of the sword, Y/n was defeated.

"Look's like you finally kicked the bucket," The cocky magical girl chucked as she grabbed the grief seed.

"Hold It!" Riddle growled as tears ran down his cheeks, " That was her's. this is her soul gem!"

"This is no longer a soul gem. It's a grief seed, it's a reward for saving the others from her curse," kyubey's said simply as the magical girl walked off.

*Riddle cried over the body as kyubey simply walked away.

"This isn't fair. There has to be a law against this," Riddle sobbed.

🍀Trey clover🍀

*Trey was surprised to hear this, he always perceived you as a pretty harmless person. Whenever he did see them use their power, they did so sparingly and always for good.

* Were you hiding something from him? Was it something he should be concerned about?

*Trey would pull you aside to ask if they planned to become a villain at some point. But his answer he really got terrified him.

*She told him how she wished to save her life, how kyubey changed her, how she will become a witch and is fated to die at the hands of another magical girl.

"Y-you're joking, right? This can't true," Trey said as he tried to smile it off.

"I'm afraid not," Y/n frowned as she revealed her nearly black soul gem.

*All Trey could do at that moment was to hug Y/n close and promise her he would try to help her delay the inevitable. 

*Sadly when Crowley opened the mirror to her world a monstrous witch emerged and proceeded to wreak havoc on the school. The magic from the students wasn't enough, so she activated her soul gem.

__They Turned__

*Trey could only stare in horror at the knew witch monster that was once Y/n. 'why did this have to happen so soon,' he cried to himself.

*The old witch was defeated. But Y/n's witch was taken down by another magical girl from the mirror. As he looked down he spotted a weird white create with vacant eyes.

"w-who are- no what are you?" Trey asked sadly.

"I am kyubey, I'm just here to make sure that the witch being taken cared of. It's about time Y/n became a witch, she was taking a long time to become one," kyubey said simply.

"Y-your kyubey, Why would you... Why would you do something like this?!" Trey shouted in sadness and anger.

"I just want to turn girls into magical girls, then one day great witches for other magical girls to take down. Don't worry about Y/n's death, she was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good," kyubey said simply.

*Trey could just stare at Y/n's body in despair, know all he has of her are his memories.

"I will make you pay, Incubator," Trey growled lowly. 

💠Cater diamond💠

"You a great villain, no way. You don't have the heart for that," Cater laughed.

*Cater doesn't take the rumor seriously, and kind of just continued with their relationship. 

*And even though Y/n appreciated Cater's carefree attitude towards these rumors, she could not help but feel the worry and dispair creep up on her. not really sure if Cater would believe her about her destiny.

*Sadly when Crowley opened the mirror to her world a monstrous witch emerged and proceeded to wreak havoc on the school. The magic from the students wasn't enough, so she activated her soul gem.

__They Turn__

*Cater called out to Y/n looking for her after the battle with the witch. But when he found, he quickly ran over to her fallen form as she hugged close to him as she cried in pain.

*Cater tried to comfort her to the best of his abilities, only to watch dark smoke emerge from her as it started to take the form of something big. As it tried to take the form, he could hear Y/n's tormented screams echo from it.

*Suddenly another magical girl appears and takes down the witch.

"Y/n look everything is alright now," Cater smiled.

*But when he looked down, it finally registers how cold her body has become. Till it finally hit him, she was dead.

*Dispair quickly washed over him as he hugged Y/n close.

♠Deuce spades♠

*When Deuce heard the Rumer he was unsure how to feel about it. Y/n was such a kind person, why would they turn evil all of a sudden.

*So like Trey he would ask them if they had planned to become evil at some point, and why.

*Y/n explains how she will become this terrible being and how she would be defeated by a magical girl. All because of a dangerous contract she made when she was younger.

"no, NO. I won't let that happen! And if that kyubey thing shows up, I'll pummel them to the ground," Deuce vowed.

*Y/n didn't have the heart to tell him that there was nothing he could do to save you. So she just smiled and hugged her lover and best friend close.

__They Turn__

*Deuce was hunched over Y/n's fallen form as tears of sadness and frustration rolled down his cheeks. As he was forced to watch the other magical girl destroy Y/n forever.

*As he slowly watched the girl return to her world, he noticed a white creature staring at Y/n's body. He knew that was kyubey, the cause of all of this.

*Deuce growled as kyubey tried to reason with him for why her death was necessary. but that didn't help quell Deuces anger as he grabbed kyubey by the ear.

"You have no idea how much difficulty we go through trying to understand your human values. Presently there are six billion, eight hundred million of you, and you're increasing in number by a hundred every four minutes! What's the huge fuss over the death of each and every single creature?"

 Sorry, Ace Trappola stans, I couldn't think of anything but I could imagine that he would not be swad like Cater, but is angry and devastated like Deuce when His lover dies.

[bbhyeoliskooks]

…〔𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬〕… SIX

Having an unrequited crush on Soobin was difficult, but you manage to make them hidden so he’s oblivious. It’s getting harder though, since each time you see him, you fall deeper into his mesmerizing eyes. You want to get rid of your feelings for him, so you grow closer to a boy named Beomgyu. However, when your one of your best friends, Sunhye asks you to back away so she can have a chance with Soobin, everything inevitably comes crashing down on you.

intro / one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ´`ﾟ٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ´`ﾟ٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ

Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader x Soobin

Genre: 3 1/2 cups of angst and 3 cups of fluff !!

Warnings: Language, illegal smoking (sunhye smh), sort of suggestive (if you call it that- you’ll see soon), long chapter (6.5k !!)

Playlist: Can’t Take My Eyes Off You, Something, Still Into You, Confession, Crazy For You

(Okay due to school, it had been such a long time that I’ve actually started to work on this chapter !! I’m so sorry that it took two months since I can’t find the time to finish it, so I hope to whoever has been waiting for the next part that you enjoy it berry berry much !! I hope this chapter was worth the wait :))

٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ´`ﾟ٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ´`ﾟ٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ

Hidden in the dark alleyway between the separate school buildings were two students perched six feet away from each other. They were doing a good job of avoiding each other these past few days- maybe even weeks, but it seemed that one of them were somehow dragged back by the neck. One was drenched from the pouring rain, while the other one was not. One was a boy, and one was a girl.

That girl stepped closer to him with a stern look on her face. Her expensive designer clothes were soaked, as she forgot to bring an umbrella today. Though she paid no attention to it, only thinking of the things she needed to accomplish to get to the top. On the other hand, the other person, that boy held onto his black umbrella tightly. He was tired of putting up her shenanigans, but zipped his lips tightly so not to say anything. Interacting with her was now dangerous, so he needed to break it up to her that he wasn’t going to join in her evil forces anymore. 

“Sunhye, I am tired of this crap. You know that I don’t want to cause her harm, the only thing that I’ve been doing to her this whole time. Consider me out of this plan if you’re going to let her get hurt in the end.”

“And you think I’m going to listen to you?” She pulled out a box of cigarettes from the pocket of her favorite jeans and plastered on a mischievous grin full of malice. “That bitch deserves to be kicked out of school, quite literally in my opinion,” she concluded, glancing over at the boy who was rolling his eyes. He was obviously disgusted, but she couldn’t bring herself to care less. 

Snickering to herself, she asked quietly, “why? Do you like her? After all this time?! Seriously, don’t make me laugh, Choi Beomgyu. That- that’s so pathetic!” Her voice teetered on the edge of holding the big amounts of giggles in until she burst into full fits of laughter, clutching her stomach as if it hurt to laugh. 

Looking at her now, Beomgyu thought she was completely insane. 

The atmosphere was extremely awkward, and he felt almost uncomfortable being alone with her. The dim alleyway wasn’t making it any better, and he felt the need to run away from what was happening. But he needed to tell you. If he wanted to leave this plan he was forced into, then he had to make his voice come out as firm. By doing so, he cleared his throat, trying in his best efforts to appear as tough even though his heart was quaking in fear. “You’re insane. I’m going to tell her whether you like it or not...” he paused to collect his thoughts before taking a few steps away from her. He didn’t like being so close to her unlike the past where he put his sole trust in her; the girl was too repulsive for words to describe. He could no longer think of her as his companion after all the of the crap she’d intentionally done.

“I’m not doing this plan, you aren’t going to hurt her as long as I’m there to protect her.” 

Saying those words must’ve snapped something in her, and her laughter came to an abrupt stop. Utilizing the silence to take a good look at her physical appearance, he could see that her face was dull with paleness, and her eyes seemingly rolled to the back of her head in sign of annoyance. She had a tight frown on her face, one that he had seen before when she was planning to do something terrible. Another reason to hate what she became, he compiled in his head. 

Instead of admitting her defeat, she just smirked and threw her hand around. 

“Just watch me, then.”

Now, he urged himself to walk out of the alleyway. Turning back once more, he saw her wave a goodbye towards him before she started to giggle. He wanted to throw up from the fear rumbling around in his stomach. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her laughing harder than ever before. How can somebody be that desperate for love when they know that person will never love them back? He felt the need to laugh, but it was uncomfortable to do so in front of her. Lee Sunhye... she was insane. Just insane. 

As the drops of rain made comforting sounds of ambiance on his black umbrella, his mind clouded with thoughts where the two of you would spend lazy mornings at your house whenever it was raining. Those were the best days he’s ever had, he thought to himself. Just seeing you laugh while he teased you about the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, run your fingers through his hair as you both told stories, or hell- even seeing you smile genuinely from his compliment, it never failed to make him grin too. 

He hoped running into you during class would perhaps make him feel better. You always did, but he didn’t tell you, especially now when you were so called enemies. Maybe, he thought, seeing your sparkling eyes light up when you made eye contact with him would brighten up his day a little bit. However, thinking of your comforting presence still wasn’t able to ease the bad feeling in his chest. It tugged endlessly at his heartstrings, hopelessly warning him to listen to his gut feeling...

And that gut feeling told him that prom tonight would go horrible. 

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As Beomgyu was making his way to the entrance of the school, he could see the outline of two familiar figures walking in the rain. Stopping for a while, he noticed that his lips unknowingly turned into a deep frown. That showed him he grew “just a bit” jealous at the sight of them dancing around in the puddles and laughing about whatnot. He lingered longer than he should’ve under the disguise of his black umbrella and managed to hear each and every word both of them were saying. 

It was you and Soobin, with him holding the umbrella above you so that you wouldn’t get any specks of rain on yourself. However he wasn’t doing a good job for himself, as his right shoulder and leg was becoming soaked from the pouring water. Beomgyu scoffed at this before deciding to the follow subtly and silently behind you.

“Hey, do you want to go to prom with me? I should’ve asked earlier, but there wasn’t enough t-time,” Soobin’s voice at the end started to tremble, though you didn’t look like you caught on. The boy following you rolled his eyes. You were going to freak out about this in the middle of class for sure. 

Like he expected, your face lit up in surprise and you jumped up and down excitedly. It was seven in the morning, so how could you be so energetic in the morning? The answer that he anticipated to come out of your mouth was correct, anybody could easily predict this and get it right. “Soobin, what makes you think I’ll say no? Of course, I’m going to say yes!”

Soobin smiled softly at your blissful expression, ruffling your hair playfully. You always looked so cute whenever you agreed to something as small as this. “Okay, that’s great! I don’t why I was feeling so nervous to ask you, but I would love to go with you tonight.”

You suddenly stopped in your tracks as Soobin staggered to take a few steps to the back so you wouldn’t get wet. 

He would love to...? Go with you...? As a friend or...? You let your mind wander off into your daydreams for a while if not for the words of Soobin piercing through your ears. There was this confused expression on his face, like he knew every thought you were thinking. You wouldn’t be surprised though, he was your best friend. And you were right. That’s exactly what he said. “J-just as friends though, you know?” He sent you a friendly smile while you held back the urge to choke yourself. 

“Yeah. Just as friends.” Ughh, here we go again. Yet, you still needed to get it through your thick head that he wouldn’t like you! Ever! Like every other time, you jumped into conclusions before knowing the full truth right away. 

Your expression of happiness faltered a little, but you endured the pain and kept smiling. As usual, Soobin didn’t notice one bit, but the other boy following behind with that mysterious black umbrella could tell straight off the bat. 

Beomgyu sighed after seeing both of his best friends entered the warm school. His veins were pumping with adrenaline; he could’ve almost gotten caught, but right now he didn’t care about that. It was his fault for being too nervous to ask. He knew he should’ve prepared earlier, but he wanted to propose to you today. Maybe by asking you, he would also tell you about what Sunhye was going to do... 

But he was too late. Soobin beat him to it this time. 

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Twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine-

Thirty! Wait, it’s thirty! 6:30pm!

Energetically hopping from your spot on the couch, you ran to the front door with a big smile on your face. It was an understatement to say that you had prepared yourself for an hour when it took quite a while. You’d been waiting for this moment since the beginning of school, and it had to be perfect! The anticipation building up during classes didn’t help as it only made you feel much more nervous to see the one person you were waiting for. Honestly, you would’ve never thought that he would ask you out to the dance today, but you weren’t complaining! It was finally 6:30pm, the time where Soobin would pick you up from your house as his date.

“Just as friends, of course,” you ridiculed, reminding yourself of the repercussions if you thought anything more of it.

Just on time, Soobin was making his way down the street to pick you up. The aroma of wondrous flowers wafted in the air while he checked his watch to see if he was late! Seeing how he was right on the dot made him feel much better about taking you. Tonight was going to be perfect, all planned out. He had a content smile on his face, thinking of how seeing you would instantly make his day better. Though, he didn’t show it. You were his date... but just as friends, of course. 

You on the other hand, wanted so badly for it to be the opposite... though, you didn’t show it. 

Cracking the front door a little bit, you peeked out to see him in a comfortable, black suit. He was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers wrapped together in a rosy pink ribbon. It was strange to see him dressing up this way because you always saw him as this boy who didn’t give a care in the world what others had to say about his style. Not this time, you guessed. There were many things that you noted too, but it got your face feeling flushed. His usual lazy hair was pushed to the back, showing his marvelous forehead that got your heart pumping for sure. 

Crap, yet again he’s making you feel things that friends shouldn’t.

He saw you waving shyly with your hand peeking out through the door. He raised this eyebrow at this, asking you if you were okay once he reached the front porch. Although you said you were doing quite fine and mostly excited to see everyone there, it wasn’t like that inside. You didn’t want to show your face yet because he looked extraordinarily breathtaking compared to you! 

As if he could read your mind through the thick door hesitantly shutting over and over again, he shot you an assuring look from the window. “Hey, it’s fine! I’m not going to judge you, I never do and you of all people should know that.” Yes... you knew that through and through. But it was Soobin! You looked like a hot mess compared to him, so how the hell was he going to miss judging you when you stepped out? The least you could do was purse your lips and agree to come out. Refusing him clearly wasn’t the best option either because where else were you going to go anyway?

First, you took a couple of seconds to calm yourself down. You couldn’t look like a rumbling dishwasher with bubbles pouring out when you came out for him! A few breathes would have to do for now, not like you were going to choke as soon as he saw you. Then, boldly stepping out of the entryway, you glared at the ground so that he couldn’t see your eyes. The heels that you hid in your closet now clattered against the cement. You actually liked them, you just didn’t know when to wear them. To add to the effect, you brushed your hair back while bashfully looking up at him. It wasn’t meant to be innocent or whatever you called it, but Soobin thought you looked gorgeous when you appeared from out of the doorway.

His breath hitched in his throat causing him to struggle letting out his initial thought.

“Sweet pea, you look absolutely stunning tonight...”

You squeezed your hands together that laid gently against your stomach. How were you supposed to respond to that when you were freaking out inside? After clearing your throat you giggled a little bit, scratching your head. “Uh, thank you?” You bit your bottom lip. He shouldn’t have said that, you felt like a fool as you felt yourself shy away from him. 

Plastering on an awkward smile, you nodded your head. He was staring at you now, his mouth parted a little as if he was pleasantly surprised seeing you in your favorite clothes. You hadn’t worn them before in front of him since you thought they would look terrible on you, but his reaction begged to differ.

There was this confident part of you, but at the same time you wanted to jump off a bridge and never be seen again. You were a fool for falling in love with your one and only best friend, there was no doubt, really. Because if he kept looking at you like that, you weren’t sure if you could hold on much longer...

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Arriving there, you could see hundreds of juniors and seniors mixed together! Your eyes widened from the sheer amount of people that could be fit into a room. They looked so carefree and giddy, what you would give to experience that happiness with your new friends... at the same time though, it made you feel a bit melancholy too. The situation reminded you of your first memories with Sunhye and Soobin. Who would’ve known that the students who secretly despise and talk about each other behind their backs could have fun and mess around in one room being civil? You hoped it would be the same case for you and your old friend today, if you ever saw her. 

Not even one foot into the gymnasium, Soobin tapped on the back of your shoulder. His expression was eerily different, and you were going to ask him what was wrong. He cut you off with his own words. “Hey, I’m going to go the bathroom, okay? I’ll be right back!” But he told you on the way that he didn’t need to use the bathroom because he used it earlier. 

Your shoulders became tense at what you were suspecting, for it wasn’t right to think that way. You gave up in a few seconds. Your brain was too curious to pass up on an opportunity like this! Something was up with him today. It felt suspicious seeing him with this tight grin on his face that you’ve never seen before. You wondered if anything was wrong, but didn’t decide on saying anything until he came back. 

Nodding, you waved a quick goodbye hoping that he would be back soon. You swore if he didn’t save you from all of these partying students, you were going to-

“Y/N! Did you hear me?!” The music was blasting so he assumed you couldn’t make out a word he said. Fortunate enough, that took you out from your little thought bubble. 

“Yeah sure, Bin! I’ll be at the dance floor probably, so find me there!” 

Watching as he disappeared into the direction of the men’s bathroom, you chose to go over to the dance floor like you promised. Being in the corner of the place wasn’t fun when there were couples making out. You rolled your eyes upon seeing them playfully pin each other to the wall, your mind wandering to that one girl that intentionally toyed around with every boy to get Soobin’s attention. But you promised yourself that this night would be fun, the one where you would have the time of your life! “Hopefully, she won’t ruin anything today,” you whispered under your breath... “this day is supposed to be perfect, only me and Soobin; that’s all.”

You weren’t looking where you going as you searched for the party floor, failing to notice the boy that had been waiting for you in front. 

It all started with an apology before the unfortunate but sweet events went down that night.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

Your eyes darted to the drink, and you facepalmed yourself. You almost got spilled with a drink of punch from a stranger! Wow, well aren’t you stupid as hell for not watching your steps?! Glancing up from the place where you almost got “drenched,” you made eye contact with the person that unbeknownst to you, purposefully stood in your way so that you would notice them. In many ways or another, they supposed. 

“G-gyu?” Your hands went up to cover your mouth in surprise, and he chuckled at your adorable, little habit. 

“Fancy seeing you here, princess, because I’m here to ask you: may I have this dance?” He held out his hand towards you, waiting for an answer. 

Recognizing that voice right away, you looked up to see Beomgyu under the soft glow of the golden light overhead. The way his black suit hugged every curve of his body easily made you realize how breathtaking he could be. Red alerts of suspicion flashed over and over in your head, but something about saying yes was so damn right. Just taking a good look at him was enough to make your cheeks turn to all shades of pink. You had to admit it; Beomgyu looked absolutely dashing in that suit. He cleaned up pretty well from his usual messy hair that somehow enhanced his beauty, but now you could see why most of the student population had a fat, juicy crush on him.

Once you realized that you were staring at him, you looked away in another direction before muttering a quick yes only the two of you could hear. “Fine, Gyu. You may have this dance,” you mocked.

Just like that, he pulled you into the place where everyone was having the time of their lives.

You giggled once you stepped onto the dance floor, your heart gradually pumping blood faster than you could’ve ever imagined. 

The first songs started off as everybody getting hyped, it was truly a time to remember. You never thought you could laugh with Beomgyu like you did before, but you did. Smiling so wide with him was like nostalgia, you missed the feeling so much. It was bittersweet sure, but... something about spending time with him is so beautiful.

Maybe if you told him that you liked Soobin earlier than perhaps everything would be like this.

The next song though, it struck a blow to your thoughts. Crazy enough, that next song was the one the two of you thought as “your song” a year ago. Crazy for You by Madonna was simply a magical song with him as it slowly started to crescendo all throughout the gym. Before you knew it, you were having a slow dance with your “enemy” whose giggles sent butterflies intensely fluttering in your stomach. The boy sent you an affectionate glance as he pulled you closer to him. You easily obliged. He allowed you to loosely wrap your arms around him, encircling his neck while he hesitantly laid his hands on your waist. You tensed up at the sudden contact before melting into his warm, comforting touch. Consider it strange, but you never knew how gentle he could be with you now after that whole situation. 

The comfortable silence between you was one that you found to be relaxing instead of awkward. Heck, being with him was a moment you would never trade for the world. As the lights shone down on the two of you, you felt like the main character in a story where after all terrible things happened, everything would bring you to a serene place like this. Just you in Beomgyu’s embrace while he gently rocked you back and forth was enough to bring you peace. A few seconds later, he whispered into your ear. 

“Hey... I need to tell you something. It’s really important, so whenever you’re ready-” you laid your head on his shoulder, softly shutting your eyes. His familiar cologne overwhelmed the senses of your nose gracefully, causing you to breathe in a scent of satisfaction. You felt complete. “Gyu, it’s okay. Just let me dance with you this once.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened, for that was not what his mind pushed him to ask. He thought that you were kidding or something, but there was a peaceful smile on your face while you rocked back and forth. He convinced himself that he would never be able to give you what you wanted which was happiness. Yet right now you were happy in his arms, and that’s what he’d been desiring for a year now. 

What he desired much more though, was in the palm of his hand. 

Now, his head was crying all the answers he was searching for quite a while. Endlessly roaming through the scorching sand of the desert while he sought for a drink did not matter because you were the sea right there. Something must’ve snapped in his mind because he should’ve known this long before- long before he got to blame you. 

He’s in love with you. Irrevocably, truly, and incredibly genuine, he fell deep in love with you whether he realized it earlier in his heart or not. 

Clearly thinking about it as he waltzed with you, the signs were there the whole time since knowing you. There was the way his heart pranced in circles when he saw you strolling down the hallway, juggling heavy books in hand. There was the desperate need to see you after making a terrible mistake of ignoring you for a week. There was the jealousy of seeing you with the one that looked so much better than you, but he didn’t want to admit it. There was love, so luminous that it could blind him if not for the fact that he was already blind for not acknowledging his feelings.

But now was the time to man up. Now was the time to tell you what he truly felt because he could no longer stand seeing you upset because of him. He needed to profess his feelings sooner or later, but this was the perfect time. Here with you encased in his embrace, he was desperate to to let you know that he loves you so damn much to the point it hurts whenever he sees you with Choi Soobin. 

Commotion from the other students fangirling about the new couples didn’t seem to faze either of you, but what caught your ear were the yells about a tall boy with raven hair dancing with one of his old best friends. At first you didn’t care about it since you were with someone who made you happy regardless, but in the middle of it you heard three or four familiar names. Including yours. You peeked out from Beomgyu’s shoulder to see what you called the love of your life and a formal friend waltzing together right underneath the colorful disco ball. They were on point... it was a very tall boy and his old best friend having the time of their lives. 

Hearing your heart shatter from inside your chest had to be the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced. It was inevitable that he would like somebody else, but it just had to be Sunhye. 

As if she knew you were staring, she looked over to you with a malicious glint in her feline shaped eyes. It was crystal clear that she was up to no good. Then without further notice, she swiftly planted her lips onto his so that you would obviously see. Her hands went over to cup the back of his head while she pulled him deeper in. The lump in your throat grew bigger each moment you laid your eyes on them. He must’ve been having such a good time if he wasn’t pulling away from those tainting lips... you felt the need to puke from staring at them for far too long. 

Snapping you from out of your trance, Beomgyu shook you a little bit. He had this worried look on his face but in your mind, you thought he was looking down on you. “Princess...? Is everything okay?” 

Suddenly, the thought pushed back in his mind about Sunhye’s plan came back about purposefully kissing Soobin where you could see. His heart dropped to his stomach like yours just seconds earlier.

Shit... you must’ve seen what happened. 

Feeling the tears well up in your eyes was enough to push yourself away from Beomgyu. He was going to bring you back in to counteract your action, but when you started on your heels- clamping your hand over your mouth so that you wouldn’t make any sounds, he knew the gravity of the situation was much more serious than anything he’s ever witnessed...

Inside his head, he cursed himself for not telling you earlier and getting caught up in his feelings while holding you. But before he could tell you the whole story, you had already disappeared into the entanglement of sandwiched student bodies practically gossiping about you. Now your heart was completely broken and he didn’t know how to pick up the missing pieces that belonged to Soobin.

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“Stop it, Beomgyu! Just stop acting like you care about me. I want to be alone!” Doing the best you could to run in high heels, it came no surprise that you stopped under the streetlight by the gymnasium building. Your ankles were burning with each step you took, and damn how much you wanted to tell that boy following you to piss off!

Ceasing your sprinting footsteps to an abrupt stop, you faced the boy who chased after you. “I said, stop!”

He didn’t want to listen to your request, shaking his head frantically. 

“Y/N, please listen to me this once. I know I haven’t been the best person towards you, but you need to believe me!”

You glared at him.

“You must’ve not heard me right. I said leave me alone, that’s my only wish.”

He inched closer to your heaving body, trying to calm you down from what you had witnessed a few minutes ago. He understood the pain well, so he didn’t want anyone especially you to go through something like that. “Y/N... you know Soobin would never do that,” he reached for your hand but you harshly pulled it away from him.

“And you’re telling me this for what? You think I’m going to forgive you after what you’ve done to me? I don’t want to hear your voice, so just- just scram!”

Your chest heaved up and down from how desperate you were running, and Beomgyu felt the same trying to keep up behind you. With the last bit of energy last, he shut his eyes- afraid to see you upset again. He hated seeing you cry no matter what the reason was.

“No, please don’t let me go. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for doing all the things I’ve pulled. I haven’t been the best of a friend to you since I believed what I shouldn’t have. It’s not your fault; I’m the one that jumped into conclusions...”

You scoffed at his apology. If he was going to say sorry, he should’ve done it earlier because you claimed all of this as bull. “So now you’re acting nice to me? After all of the shit you pulled? How am I going to know that you’re actually being genuine to me? Like, seriously! Pick a side!”

“I like, wait! Give me a few seconds before I-” instead of dealing with the pain on your own accord, you hit him in the chest, interrupting what he was going to say. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you punched him over and over in the chest. So hurt to deal with what was happening, you let out all your anger, begging him for the answer on why everything had to go wrong for you. “You what?! Spit it out already, I’ve been waiting months for you to say something! YOU HATE ME AND I- I... still, fucking want you to be my lover or maybe even a friend after all this time...”

With one last punch aimed at his chest, you threw out a fist only to be restrained by Beomgyu’s strong hands clutching your arms.

In one swift push, he pinned you against the wall, a stern expression on his face. You were instantly silenced by his outburst, your heartbeat becoming faster from how close you were to him. What was he doing or better yet, what was he going to do?! You didn’t know- you were more focused on the fact that you was close enough to feel his breath fanning on your lips. The expression on his face as he glared you down told you everything.

Frankly, he was tired of hiding everything. The opposite meaning of his words, his thumping heart as he chose to get closer to you, and most especially what he truly felt for you. You were as oblivious as Soobin not knowing your own feelings that it become so exhausting. He had to tell you now or else he swore he was going to burst! 

He shut his eyes tight, afraid that you would judge him once he told you everything. Words that he could no longer control endlessly flowed out of his mouth, and he had enough of it. 

“I... I like you too, Y/N! Can’t you see my feelings?! Every day, it’s just push and pull of wanting to kiss you, but you don’t want to acknowledge any of the signs that I send you! That’s why I’ve been so mean. And I know it’s not an excuse, it sounds stupid as hell, even to me. But I felt so scared because you only love Soobin, I didn’t really have a chance in the first place.”

Your jaw dropped... did he just confess? That he likes you? Beomgyu likes you???

His expression softened up a little bit once he stopped ranting, seeing the shocked look on your face. He gulped down the lump in his throat, cupping your cheeks as delicately as he could. His eyes were completely vulnerable while he tried to memorize every detail, to the way your eyelashes fluttered seeing him like this, to the way your mouth screwed shut as his eyes trailed to your lips. He said he couldn’t control his feelings towards you- well shit, he didn’t want to control them anymore. “I said, I like you. I really really like you, okay? The truth is out, and now you know.”

“Beomgyu, I-” suddenly, he firmly pressed his lips against yours, cutting you off short from your sentence. You were caught off guard but soon responded back eagerly, relishing in the way his pillowy lips glided easily into yours. Soon, the train of surprised thoughts stopped flowing, and you felt like you were on top of the world. A feeling of euphoria, you had to call it. You never realized how sweet and soft his lips could be until now. It was simply meant to be... Beomgyu kissing you as you slid down against the wall with him following suit. 

Surprisingly, he was gentle with you while his hand danced over your cheek to caress your jaw. He chuckled in between kisses, reciprocating the same passion you were showing. You swore that his lips were sweeter than any dessert you’ve ever tasted, but it was much better than those delicacies. It was a lie to say that you didn’t like it because... wow. He was amazing. 

Deepening the kiss, your hands traveled to the back of his head to tug at his surprisingly fluffy hair. At this point, you didn’t care if anyone saw- you just needed more. You never wanted this moment to end, for it felt like pure bliss. You got what you wanted at last which meant Beomgyu, himself... but you guessed you jinxed it because you needed some air. You slowly started to pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of your lips together. 

Pulling away to gasp for the need of air too, Beomgyu breathlessly laughed as he affectionately nuzzled his forehead against yours. “So I take it that you like me too?” You didn’t respond to that one question, and Beomgyu was too caught up in the heat of the kiss earlier to notice.

When he was about to dive back for more, his action was unfortunately ceased by the yells of none other than Choi Soobin. 

“Y/F/N! CHOI BEOMGYU!”

Hearing his voice forced you to jump up from your spot on the chilly ground. Your legs moved on by themselves even though you were ankles were scorching hot inside. Beomgyu helped you up as soon as he saw the panic rush onto your face. Crap, he should’ve known to take you home instead... maybe then he could kiss you some mo-

“Y/N! Are you okay?!” Soobin rushed over to your side, placing his hand over your back as you accidentally choked on your own spit. Your breath had caught in your throat, and you started to cough hysterically as if you had run an exhilarating race. Disbelief had completely taken over your mind at what you had just went through, but you felt so alive- so happy that you finally got to kiss him. Still, there was this ounce of disappointment that told you he was toying with you again. That’s one thing that you didn’t want to know because... somehow, a tiny sliver of your heart from before led you to believe that you shared the feelings as well.

“I need to explain everything that you saw. It wasn’t what it looked like.” There was worry clearly written all over his face, judging by the way he sprinted towards you with hasty feet. He was panting as he placed his hands on his knees to calm down the pace of his breath. 

He glanced at Beomgyu whose eyes looked so vulnerable under the soft yellow glow of the streetlight. His lips were in a permanent curve as if he was over the clouds about something, he noticed. Then he took a good look at you. You had a small smile on your face that he recognized as familiar since you had shown it a lot for him. It meant that someone was making you feel flustered or “soft” as you called it, but only he was able to do it! Not even the playboys in class that hit on anybody they laid their eyes on. 

In response, your fingers grazed over Beomgyu’s. You were going to say something, but Soobin had taken away that opportunity. “Come on, Y/N,” Soobin snarled once he saw you reach over to Beomgyu’s hand.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Wait, Bin! I need to say something to Beomgyu; he told me something important.” He looked down to see you put on the sweetest look you could muster. This time your puppy eyes didn’t work on him. He knew it. The fact that a seed of jealousy had already sprouted throughout his chest, turning into an ugly flower of envy each time you shared a new, bold moment with another boy other than him made him feel sick to his stomach. He admitted it from the inside of his head; he didn’t want you to talk about his friend anymore. However, the red sirens in his head had told him that it wasn’t right that he was keeping you away from Beomgyu.

Then again, he was the one that brought great damage to your heart so what he was doing was correct! He couldn’t see you cry anymore because of that one boy, he wouldn’t be able to stand it any longer... but it wasn’t a good thing to keep you from forgiving someone...

His conscience was clouded with too many thoughts ranging from the right thing to do, to being selfish for his own feelings, yet the latter was clearly winning. He despised you being with Beomgyu. 

Soobin scoffed, not allowing your quaint request to get through the stiff boulder of his head.

“Like what? We need to get you home, so you have to talk to him tomorrow okay?” He had instantly clasped your hands into his upon hearing this and tugged you along the sidewalk, a frown permanently settled on his face. Anymore of this back and forth and his brain would explode of all of his values. 

You just sighed, acknowledging what Soobin had said was right. His grip got tighter when you mumbled a few words of a farewell to Beomgyu. You needed time anyway, but a whole night wasn’t good enough to sort everything out either. It was best to stay away from him for now so that you could figure out what your heart had truly desired for. 

Beomgyu just nodded at you, running his fingers through the tresses of his hair. It didn’t look like it, but he was breaking every second the more he looked at how you reassuringly smiled at the boy holding your hand. Well at least he was able to get a kiss, but Soobin had a huge advantage, being your crush for years now. The two of you looked absolutely perfect together! If you became a couple, he wouldn’t be surprised but instead bittersweet (mostly the bitter though) because you obviously deserved someone much better than this mess of inevitable love. It seems that he lost his chance to be with the love of his life. 

From what you had assumed though, you thought that he was giving you time to think about his words. But at the same time, you didn’t know what to think, honestly. 

How could you possibly choose when you liked both of them? 

٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ´`ﾟ٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ´`ﾟ٩๑۶⁎⁍̴̆⁎ ๑)｡ﾟ

Posted: 10/21/20- 12:45am

Tags:

[axwalker]

The trade 13

Synopsis:  Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option than to seduce Liam Rhys. But what happens when she falls in love with his best friend? (AU)

Pairings: DrakexMC

A/N: I took some liberties with Leo’s and Liam’s characters. In this AU their age difference is two years instead of six, and I made up their middle names.

I’m using Grey’s Anatomy prompt asked by @mskaneko​  : If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you’re scared that it’s not the right thing. Even if you’re scared that it’ll cause problems. Even if you’re scared that it will burn your life to the ground, you say it, and you say it loud and you go from there. (In bold) 

I love to picture FC when I read fanfic so I added a mood board with mine at the beginning. 

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens without reading it. A lot of angst and heartbreak

NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback.  Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR).

To catch up: Masterlist

Thanks to @pedudley​  my awesome beta reader, your comments and encouragement mean so much.  And of course, to @mskaneko​ for this beautiful mood board, and all the other great edits and mood boards 💕💕  Love you girls!!

Tags: @burnsoslow  @mskaneko​ @drxkewalker @pedudley @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @pug-bitch @lauzales @desireepow-1986 @yukinagato2012 @kingliam2019 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker  @speedyoperarascalparty @drakewalker04 @ac27dj @ravenpuff02@msjr0119 @texaskitten30​ @loveellamae​ @texaskitten30​

March 2003

Constantine had been preparing for this day since the revolution had stolen him the throne that was his by birthright. After the monarchy had been overthrown, he had sworn to himself that he would be back to rule his people one day, so he had spent the last nineteen years of his life building a strong political career. And, there he was, about to become Cordonia’s third democratic president. He smiled at the irony, all that blood spilled by the revolutionaries had been for nothing. One way or another, he had been born to lead his country.

His eyes drifted to his two sons. Leo and Liam, so similar in appearance but with such contrasting personalities. 

Liam was sitting calmly next to his stepmother, not a hair out of place, his suit perfectly ironed. Leo was the opposite. Despite Regina’s efforts, Leo’s hair was all over the place and he wasn’t wearing a tie anymore. Constantine scoffed; they were going to appear in live television in a question of minutes.

“Leonard Alistair Rhys, could you care to tell me where your tie is?”

Leo jumped at the mention of his middle name. He knew it meant trouble. Plus, he hated it, he had been given the dreadful name of an old, forgotten ancestor, while Liam shared his middle name, Fabian, with one of Cordonia’s greatest kings.

He answered smugly despite the fear his father inspired in him. “I left it in my room, it didn’t suit my wild personality.”

Liam laughed quietly to his brother’s answer.

Constantine snapped his fingers at Jackson, his personal bodyguard. “I need a tie for him, now”

Then he turned to his oldest son. “You may think that this is simply about the tie, but it is not. It’s what the tie represents.” He arched one brow scornfully “You will never achieve anything important, Leo.  You have no discipline, no self-control, no respect. The monarchy was abolished because of nobles like you. I couldn’t see it back then, but they had a point. If the revolutionaries had lost, you would be an heir right now. The next Cordonia’s king. A terrible thing for our country. But thanks to the new democracy your brother who is far more capable and responsible than you can lead this country one day if he applies himself and works for it, as I did. I was against the revolution, but thanks to you I realize now, that they were right”.

Leo’s fists clenched; he was trembling with rage but didn’t reply anything. He was used to his father’s contempt and sourly remarks. He had been his favorite target since he was a little boy and his mother had left, something his father blamed him for. Leo didn’t cry, he had never given him the pleasure of his tears before, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.  

Jackson came back minutes later with the tie.

“Put this on, now, Leonard. We will talk about your punishment later.” Constantine barely looked at his oldest son for the rest of the ceremony.

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After the scandal exploded, Leo Rhys left the ballroom discretely through a backdoor. As he loosened his bowtie, he smiled to himself, the look in his father’s eyes had been priceless. He couldn’t help but feel slight remorse thinking about Liam. Frankly, he would’ve liked to avoid hurting his younger brother, but Liam had interfered with his destiny to be the next Cordonia’s king, so he had become collateral damage. It was too late for regrets anyway, it was done, the wheels were in motion.  

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Franz and Mara took Alexis and the Rhys outside the ballroom, followed by Rashad, Maxwell, and Drake.

When they reached a private room far away from the public’s curiosity, Constantine turned to the three friends.

“This is a family matter, leave us alone. I’ll call you if I need you, Drake.”

Drake’s eyes drifted to Alexis’s face. His heart tugged seeing how hard she was working to keep a strong facade, he needed to be there for her.

“I need to be here, Constantine. I’m the Chief of Staff of Liam’s campaign, this concerns me too.”

Liam stared at Drake, fully aware of the real reason behind his concern. “You heard my father, Drake. This is a family matter.” He entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“Fuck this!” Drake was about to barge into the room, but Maxwell stopped him on time.

“Do you think she needs the two of you fighting right now?”

“You know Constantine as well as I do, Maxwell. He’s going to blame her for everything. She has been through enough!”

Maxwell placed his hand in Drake’s shoulder. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but Liam is there. He won’t let Constantine hurt her. You’re just going to make everything worst Drake. Please, wait here with us.”

Drake sighed and leaned against the wall.

Constantine was so furious that he needed a minute to gather himself. Alexis had become a huge liability for his son’s campaign. In spite of her father’s money, Liam had to get rid of her. Regina served him a scotch that he gulped down.

“Could you care to tell us what you were doing in your underwear with Tariq, Alexis?”

She took a deep breath and answered in a calm, poised voice, “I was about to take a shower when Tariq barged into my room and tried to attack me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Liam took a step towards Alexis placing his arm around her waist. “I was there that night, father. Alexis is telling the truth.”

Constantine scoffed looking around the room. “Where the hell is your father?”

Alexis chose to tell him a version of the truth. “He wasn’t feeling right, he had to go back to Cordonia City.”

Constantine answered angrily “He’s like the rats and the cockroaches that leave the sinking boat before anyone else, isn’t he?”

“There’s no need for insults, father.” Liam raised his hands. “We will deal with this ourselves.”

“Don’t you understand, Liam? Your chances to get elected just got cut in half. And all thanks to this … this whore.”

Liam was a man that rarely lost his nerves, but at soon as he heard his father’s words, he cut the distance between them in one step and took him by the lapels of his tuxedo’s jacket. “You say another word against my fiancé, and I swear to God, I’ll forget you’re my father. Do you understand?”

Regina squeaked. “Liam! Stop, please!”

Both men stared at each other until finally, Liam let Constantine go.

The older man went to the bar and poured himself another scotch. Then he turned around with a mocking smile in his face. “I would love to see if you defend her so ardently after I tell you why she has agreed to marry you.”

Liam looked at Alexis and saw how pale she had turned. “Alexis? What does he mean?”

“I’m sorry, Liam I…” Alexis couldn’t find the words to explain to Liam what was happening. 

Constantine was faster than her.  “George confessed a few days ago that he was pressuring his daughter to marry you for political reasons. Alexis accepted because, apparently, she needs money.”

Alexis couldn't believe her ears. “What? That’s not true! You and my father were both pressuring me, and it wasn’t for money.”

“But they were pressuring you”. Liam’s voice was cold and steady.

“Liam, please I-“

“Do not believe a word that comes out of her mouth, Liam. You need to break up the engagement now. This little whore has done enough damage as it is.”

Liam didn’t even think about it. He raised his fist and punched his father in the jaw.

Regina gasped in shock. “God, Liam! What are you doing?”

“Liam is confused, Regina.” He turned to his son rubbing his jaw. “If you want to believe her, it’s your problem, but she lied. She doesn’t want you, the only thing she cares about is being First Lady.”

Liam turned to Alexis. “I just want to know if you only agreed to marry me because your father asked you to.” Before she could answer, he raised his right hand. “Just say yes or no, Alexis.”

She looked at him directly into his eyes, unable to lie to him any longer. “Yes.”

Liam felt something breaking inside of him. “I see. I knew you were not in love with me yet, Alexis. But I thought you felt… something. I didn’t know you were doing this only to help your father’s political ambitions.” He looked at her with utmost contempt “Please, leave”

“Liam, let me explain.”

“Didn’t you hear me? Leave. Now.” He turned his back to her, refusing to break in front of her.

She tried to approach him, but Regina got in the middle.

“It’s better if you leave, darling. Don’t make things harder than they already are.”

Alexis turned around, feeling angry and defeated. She left the room furiously slamming the door on her way out.

Drake and Maxwell looked at each other and followed her.

“Blossom! I’ll go look for the car with Rash and meet you here. If you go through the front door, those so-called journalists won’t let you leave.”

She stopped walking and nodded. Drake went next to her, he needed to hold her and make her understand that she wasn’t alone, but he would have to wait until they were alone, another scandal would destroy her.

“Lexie, are you okay?” He brushed her hand with his fingers.

She hugged herself “No, I’m not. Liam knows everything.” Her eyes watered, Abigail was the only thing in her mind. “I can’t talk right now.”

“Go with them to Ramsford. I’ll drive there in my jeep. It’s better if we don’t leave together.”

“No, Drake. Don’t worry about me. They have a crisis inside, and Liam is going to need you.” She knew that if she threw one look at him, she wouldn’t be able to hold her tears any longer, so she jumped into Maxwell’s car without turning around.

Rashad, Maxwell, and Alexis arrived at Ramsford after a long, silent ride. She got out of the car and after thanking the couple, went to her room.

Abigail. She didn’t even know how to contact her, how to warn her parents. Her daughter needed her and, once again, she had failed her as she had done when she had been born. Alexis paced around the room, incapable of staying put. Her eyes were puffy and swollen after all the tears she had spilled on her way back from the engagement party.  She couldn’t believe that everything was over, but Liam was too sad, too disappointed and he wasn’t going to forgive her. Maybe if she offered something else to her father, he wouldn’t harm Abigail. She was willing to do anything he asked of her if that meant to keep her daughter safe.

“O’Brien let me in.” Drake knocked at her door. 

“Don’t worry about me, Drake. I’m fine.” Alexis was terrified about what could happen to him. She could only imagine her father’s revenge after Drake had beat him up.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t leave you alone. I will sleep outside your door all night if I have to.”

She debated with herself a little longer, torn between the urge to see him and the need to protect him.

When she finally opened the door, he approached her and cupped her face to wipe her tears away. Then, he pulled her to him enveloping her with his strong arms, making her feel instantly safe. Despite that, or maybe because of it, she began to cry again. Drake's heart broke at the sound of her small sobs. He rubbed her back as he talked to her.

“Shhh, everything will be fine, baby. I promise. Cry all you need to cry but know that I will do whatever I have to do to fix this.” He placed small kisses on the top of her head. “I promise.”

“How?” She spread her arms wide. “There’s nothing we can do. Liam hates me now, so it’s over. Over. My only solution is to beg my father for forgiveness and comply with whatever he asks now.”

Drake shook his head furiously “No! There’s no fucking way that’s going to happen, O’Brien. That man is seriously deranged! Only god knows what he’s going to ask from you now! Forget it, I won’t allow it!”

She glared at him “I’m sorry but you don’t have a say on the matter. You have to understand that Abigail is my priority and I will do everything it takes to keep her safe. I don’t even know where she is Drake, I can’t even warn her...her mother.”

He cut the distance between them taking her in his arms again. “Well, you have to understand that you’re my priority and I will do everything it takes to keep you safe. I’m serious, Alexis, anything it takes.” He cupped her face with both hands and looked at her. “I love you. We’ll find a solution together, but now you need to eat something and rest, you seem exhausted.”

“I love you too, Drake” She said as he wiped another tear off her cheek.

“Would you let me stay here with you, Lexie?”

“Yes, I’d like that” She gave him a small smile.

God, he loved her so much. “Perfect, why you don’t go get ready for bed. I’ll go to Beaumont’s kitchen to get us something to eat.” He took off his jacket and his bowtie before leaving the room.

She took a long shower. When she came back to the room, Drake had lighted the bedroom’s electric fireplace and had put some sandwiches and a bottle of whiskey on the small coffee table. Alexis had changed into a huge t-shirt with the inscription “Everything I need to know I learned by watching 80’s movies” printed on it and a pair of mini shorts. He blushed, remembering how soft her long, tanned legs felt around him.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “What’s your favorite?” He pointed at the t-shirt, grinning.

She looked at him. “I know what you’re trying to do, Drake. I really appreciate it, but nothing is going to take my mind off of Abigail”

He got close to her “I know how worried you are. I do. And I promise you that tomorrow we will spend the day trying to figure this out together.” He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “But you won’t solve anything tonight, O’Brien. Please eat something and try to rest.”

They sat on some cushions in front of the table and started eating the grilled cheese sandwiches he had made, in comfortable silence.

“Back to the Future,” Alexis said. 

He looked at her “What?”

“My favorite 80’s movie, Back to the Future.”

He grinned. “Chicken, Mc Fly”

She squinted at him. “Nobody.Calls.Me.Chicken”

They both laughed locking eyes for a few seconds. He placed a strand of hair behind her ear before speaking again.

“Mine is Indiana Jones.”

She giggled. “Figures, Walker”

“Why?” He asked, puzzled.

“Why? Seriously?” She smirked “A movie about a lonely, hot-headed hero that protects everyone around him?”

He chuckled.“I don’t need to protect everyone around me, O’Brien. Just you.”

She sat in his lap and gave him a soft kiss. “Thank you for everything, Drake. I don’t even know how I would’ve dealt with all of this without you.”

Drake smiled at her. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Lexie. I love you.” He gently rubbed her back. “Now, let’s go to bed, you need a good night of sleep.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I don’t think I can sleep now, I’m too anxious.”

He kissed the top of her head, before speaking. “What if I look for a movie on Netflix? You might fall asleep watching it, baby.”

Alexis shrugged. “It can’t hurt.” 

Drake grinned at her, placing a small kiss on her nose. “Perfect, Lexie.”

She began to undo the covers when she saw him taking off his clothes. 

“Are you giving me a strip show, Walker? Because I don’t have any dollar bills.” She smiled.

He chuckled. “Get your head out of the gutter, O’Brien. I’m not going to sleep all night in a fucking tuxedo.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Alexis teased. 

They went to bed together. Alexis snuggled against Drake and he held her while they watched “Back to the future 2”. Both of them enjoyed the intimacy, the proximity to the other. Drake revealed in the sensation of having her in his arms. He swore to himself that he would never let her go again. An hour later, he smiled content, Alexis had fallen asleep. He watched her for a few seconds, admiring how serene, and peaceful she looked. After placing a loving kiss on her forehead, Drake turned off the computer and put it on the bedside table. Then he went back to bed and carefully pulled Alexis against his chest, he needed to feel her close to him, safe and sound in his arms.

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Hakim knew that restoring the monarchy was the right measure for his country. Thirty-five years ago, when he was young and idealistic, he had been one of the few nobles involved with the revolution but now he saw the errors of his ways. Democracy hadn’t solved the numerous problems Cordonia had, worse than that, it had added several more. Corruption was a sickness at every level of the state and liberal ideas like gay marriage or abortion rights were threatening the conservative values he cherished so deeply. The old noble houses like his continued to rule in more ways than one but they were losing more and more power every day and depended on the elections. Of course, he had considered forming an alliance with Godfrey Amaranth but that would only have fixed the problem momentarily, and he needed something permanent. Something that would bring the monarchy back, along with all the old titles. He sighed thinking about his father the old Duke of Castelraillan and how that title would be inherited by Ezequiel one day.  

Hakim remembered the day he had approached Leo Rhys to help with his plans. The idea was actually quite simple, he would help Leo claim his right as an heir to the old Monarchy and in exchange, Leo would have him as his closest advisor. Hakim wasn’t worried, he knew Leo since he was a small boy, as long as he had enough women and scotch, he would be easy to manipulate. The first step was to ruin the reputation of the candidate highest in the polls, Liam Rhys. It was a pity, Liam would have made an extraordinary king in other circumstances. The second was to create a scandal big enough that it would make everyone question their democratic leaders and the third, well it was the most extreme but undoubtedly the most effective of the three.

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Alexis laid down restless with her eyes open, she had slept exactly three hours before a nightmare had woken her up. Fortunately, Drake was still asleep, he was exhausted and worried about her, he definitely needed the rest. Drake’s concern for her filled her heart, no one had ever cared so deeply about her before. Liam might’ve thought he loved her, but the truth was that he didn’t even really know her. Of course, that didn’t help diminish her guilt. Alexis knew that she had deeply hurt him, and she wasn’t going to forgive herself. She rolled over to look at Drake, and couldn’t help the smile forming in her lips, she had never imagined she could love someone with such intensity before meeting him. She stroked his face with her hand, and he opened his eyes.

“Hi,” he looked at his phone. “It’s only 4 o’clock, Lexie. You can’t sleep?”

She ran her hand through her hair “There are too many things on my mind. I’m sorry that I woke you up though. Go back to sleep, Drake.”

He lifted his upper body with an elbow and leaned down to kiss her. She tugged his hair and soon the soft kiss became hungry, passionate.

“I need to feel you, Drake.”

He slid his hand under her shirt, her naked skin underneath was unbelievably soft. “I need to feel you too baby.” He pulled her shirt over her head, the smell of cherries washing over him.

“Fuck, Lexie you’re gorgeous.” He ran his hands all over her body, almost desperately. When he finally found the hem of her short, he softly stroked the skin under it, locking eyes with her, enjoying how her breath hitched with the mere touch of his fingers. He lowered himself, covering her stomach with soft kisses, savoring her soft gasps, until he reached her lower belly. He carefully undid the knot of her shorts and pulled them down with her underwear, as he kissed the inside of her thighs, her knees, her calves. She was lost in his touch, barely able to moan. Then he made his way up kissing the length of her legs all over again until he reached her core.  

She wasn’t able to think anymore. “Oh god!” Her voice sounded raspy, foreign.

“You make me insane, Lexie” He took his time kissing the hot skin around her core, taking pleasure on how wet she already was. He sank his head on her until his tongue found the little nub inside of her making her moan harder. Drake thrust two fingers inside of her curling them as his tongue continued to pleasure her and she came hard, losing all control of herself.

When he felt her become undone under his tongue, he couldn’t take it any longer. He placed himself over her, as desperate as he was to enter her, he took a second to watch her. She looked like a goddess with her messy hair framing her beautiful face and her eyes closed as she tried to stabilize her breath again.

“Open your eyes baby” He whispered, and she complied, her already brown eyes, darkened with lust.  

-For me. That look is only for me- he thought, feeling himself grow harder.

Drake didn’t stop looking at her for a second as he positioned himself over her entrance, teasing her with the tip of his cock before slowly sinking into her.

“God, Drake! I need you!”

He growled at the sound of his name falling from her lips. He thrust into her as she moaned his name over and over again.

“Come for me, Lexie,” he whispered, and she moaned again. Sliding his arm under her back, Drake pulled her closed to him and pounded mercilessly into her, capturing her lips until her walls clenched on him. Soon, Alexis was too far gone to care about her screams.

“DRAKE! DRAKE!”

“That’s my girl.” He growled coming right after her.

He held her close to his chest, their bodies covered in sweat as they tried to even out their breath, and he noticed her eyes fighting to stay open.

“You need to sleep, baby” He laid down wrapping her body with his arms and kissing her nape.

She felt her eyes closing. “I love you, Drake”

“I love you, Lexie.” He whispered before falling asleep next to the love of his life.

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Regina Rhys wasn’t used to making important decisions on her own, she had always let others, especially her husband to make them for her. That was the reason why she had kept quiet when she had found out that Constantine was trying to buy a wife for Liam. A few days later, she had heard a conversation between George and her husband and had discovered that they were blackmailing Alexis into accepting their deal. Regina ignored the secret they had over the poor girl, but it had to be dark because she had barely protested. For all those reasons, she had been tempted to defend Alexis the night before, but she knew her husband would never forgive her and she definitely didn’t know how to confront him, so Regina had decided to wait until the morning to speak alone with the man she considered her son.

Liam hadn’t slept all night, his mind was consumed by her and all the moments they had spent together. If he was true to himself, he had to admit that she had never really told him that she loved him. She had been kind and gentle, but a wall had always been there between the two of them. He couldn’t understand why he felt such a powerful need for her, for someone that was so clearly not interested in him and so obviously…infatuated with someone else. He threw his glass furiously against the door. It was his fault. Everything had been perfect until he had decided he liked her too. Liam knew Drake was a womanizer, just like his brother. And even if he thought he was in love with her, eventually he was going to get tired of her as he always did, and she would end up sad and alone. Not that her fate mattered to him anymore. Liam took another tumbler from the cabinet and poured himself a glass of scotch.

Regina found him in his office, nursing the glass. “Good morning, Liam. I brought you a cup of fresh coffee.”

She removed the scotch from his hand and gave him the mug, squeezing his shoulder.

She cleared her throat trying to summon her courage. “I want to tell you something about Alexis.”

He looked at her expectantly.

“Your father and George were blackmailing her. I know it isn’t money, Liam. They mentioned an old secret. Your father told George that she had asked him to stop the engagement because she didn’t want to hurt you. I think you should go and talk to her. I’ve known the ambassador for a long time now, and there is nothing he wouldn’t do for money or power, including hurting his own daughter.”

“I don’t think I should talk to her, Regina. She doesn’t care if I love her or not” His voice sounded hollow, hopeless.

She approached him, placing her hand in his shoulder “Liam, If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you’re scared that it’s not the right thing. Even if you’re scared that it’ll cause problems. Even if you’re scared that it will burn your life to the ground, you say it, and you say it loud and you go from there.”

“I already did, and it didn’t change anything.”

“I’m only telling you all of this because I think you deserve to have all the information, what you do with it, only concerns you, Li.” She rubbed his shoulder and let him alone so he could think.

Drake felt her absence as soon as he opened his eyes. He sat on the bed and found her wrapped on a blanket watching absentmindedly through the window.

“Hey, Lexie.”

She turned her head towards him. “Hi, Drake”

“Come to bed, baby”

Alexis went to him and sat on his lap looping her arms around his neck. She rubbed his stubble with her nose. “You’re so handsome in the morning”

He teased her. “But only in the morning.”

“Yes, you lose all your charm at noon, like a reversed Cinderella.”

They grinned at each other, but he noticed that her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “What were you thinking over there?”

“Abbie … and Liam”

He furrowed “Liam?”

“Yes, how sad he seemed last night, all because of me”

“Because of both your fathers, O’Brien.”

“I accepted the offer and no matter the reason, I hurt him.” She sighed “And Abbie, she will be eleven years old soon, what if she never gets to ...”

Drake lifted her face up to him and locked eyes with her. “Hey! Look at me, Lexie. I swear, I would keep you two safe.” She tried to shake her head but he cupped her face. “I swear it on my life, okay?” He kissed her softly “This morning I thought about contacting Damien, he’s a friend of mine in New York and he’s a PI. He’s the best there is, and I’m sure he will help us find her. I promise I’ll help you fix this.”

“And my father?”

“I will deal with him.”

Alexis was about to respond when her phone rang. She saw the name and the screen and answered immediately

“Hi, Liam.”

Drake stood up from the bed and angrily started to dress. He didn’t want to hear their conversation; he knew how it would end. If Liam was as in love with Alexis, his Lexie, as much as he was, he wasn’t going to go without a fight.

She finished her call and sat next to him on the couch. “He wants to talk to me in person. He asked me if I could meet with him today at noon at his office”

Drake cocked his brows as he asked the question he already knew the answer to. “And you accepted?”

Alexis hugged herself. “You know I did, Drake.”

He answered bitterly. “Yes, I forgot that we were just friends, O’Brien”

Her heart sank at his words. “Drake, please. Don’t do this now”

He shook his head. “I know it’s difficult for you, Alexis, but it’s damn hard for me too. Can’t you see that I die every time that I have to see you two together?” He raised his voice “Every time he touches you, I want to fucking kill him. He was my best friend, and now I want to end him every single time he dares to look at you.”

She approached him and rubbed his face with her small hand. “You know, I love you, Drake.”

He took her hand between his closing his eyes. “Yes, I know you do now.” He muttered.

“What does that mean?” Alexis asked, glaring at him.

He took a sharp breath. “It doesn’t matter, Lexie”

She took his head between her hands. “I love you, Drake, you have no idea how much.” She stood on her toes and kissed him tenderly. “I will never, never, stop loving you. Please, never forget that”

“I know, baby, I know” He kissed her forehead “I’m sorry. Let’s focus on Abbie right now”

She smiled at him.

“What, O’Brien?”

“I like it when you call her Abbie”

He smiled back at her “We’ll find her, Lexie. I promise”

They decided that she was going to ask Maxwell to lend her a car so she could go to Cordonia city by herself. He would go later, so no one could see them arrive together.

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Alexis steadied her breath to calm herself before entering Liam’s office.

“Hi, Liam” His heart skipped a beat just hearing her voice.  

“Alexis, sit please”

She sat on the couch he was pointing at.

“Something to drink?”

“Do you have whiskey?”

He scoffed “Yes, I do”

He poured a whiskey for her and a scotch for him before sitting next to her on the couch.

“I talked to Regina, she seems to think that my father and yours are blackmailing you”

She gulped her whiskey before speaking. “Yes, they were, they are. I don’t know how much Constantine actually knows, but he’s definitely aware that my father was forcing me.”

He spoke with an icy tone. “With what exactly? What was so important that it was worth your happiness and mine?”

“Almost eleven years ago, I was … attacked and I got pregnant. Obviously, I wasn’t married, so my father wanted to avoid a scandal. He was ashamed of me.” She took a deep breath refusing to cry in front of Liam. “When my daughter was born, I had to give her up. My father knows where she is, and if I don’t do what he says, he … well my daughter won’t be safe anymore”

Liam couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he settled his glass on the table and took Alexis’s hands, squeezing them softly.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I can’t even begin to imagine what you have been through” He wanted to hold her but he wasn’t sure that she would accept it. “Can I hold you?”

Touched by his concern, she nodded. “Yes.”

Liam took her in his arms trying to erase the past, trying to make her understand how much he loved her. It was comforting and kind, but she couldn’t feel the same sense of security she did when she was held by Drake.

Liam broke the embrace and looked at her. “I’m here for you Alexis. I told you I loved you, and I wasn’t lying. If you want to, we can still get married.”

“Even knowing that I … that I’m not in love with you?”

He took her chin between his fingers. “Yes, I want to help you, and I will. I imagine that your father wants to control the commerce we have with America.”

She nodded

“And he wants us married as some sort of guarantee for him”

“Yes, your father told him he would convince you to give him all the access he needs”

Liam stood up, his hands tightened into fists.

“I want to marry you, Alexis, more than anything, but we can’t let our fathers control our lives.”

“I know, Li, but I have no option, if we go against him, he will harm Abigail. That’s her name.”

“I’ve known George my whole life. I know he would.” Liam took her hands again and kissed them softly. “Marry me, Alexis. Marry me and I swear, I won’t let him harm you or your daughter. We will make them think that I will go along with their plans, but we will be looking for her and gathering evidence against them. I’m sure we will defeat them at the end. Together.”

Alexis didn’t have another option. As much as she loved Drake, she had to accept. “I can’t even begin to thank you, Liam.”

“I’m only going to ask you one thing, Alexis.”

She looked at him expectantly.

“That you try. That you really try to fall in love with me. I promise I won’t pressure you. I won’t be expecting anything from you on our wedding night, or any other night for that matter. Not until you’re ready. But, other than that, I want us to be a real couple, I want you to be honest with me.” He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “I want us to go in dates, and get to know each other better.” He lifted her chin to him “And for that to happen, I need you to stop seeing him, for good. Can you do that, Alexis?”

Her heart tugged, learn to live without Drake would be the hardest thing that she’d ever have to do, after giving Abigail up. But Alexis will do it for her.  

“Yes, I can. I just need to talk to him one last time.”

Liam shook his head “I don’t think it’s a good idea”

“I’m only telling you because you want me to be honest, but I will talk to him one last time, whether you like it or not Liam. He deserves to hear it from me”

“When?”

“I’ll go to his office now.”

He poured himself another scotch. “I’ll be waiting here.”

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

Drake was unable to work or focus on anything related to the campaign. All he could think about was Alexis, and her discussion with Liam.

Suddenly, he saw her standing at his door.

He stood up to join her.

“Come in, O’Brien” He was about to ask what had happened with Liam, but he saw it in her eyes.

“He wants to marry you.”

She nodded. “He wants to help me, but he wants us to try to have a real marriage.”

Drake scoffed. “Of course, he does.” He pulled her close to him and kissed her, only her lips at first, but after a few sweet seconds, he let his tongue rub hers, at first softly, almost delicately but fast the kiss became hungry and burning. She parted from him, panting.

“He asked me to stop this, us. He’s going to help me, but in exchange he wants me to stop seeing you.” Alexis took a deep breath. She was going to need all the courage, she could muster. “Drake, listen to me. I need you to quit this job that you hate so much, and finish your veterinarian degree.” She rubbed his cheek. “I need you to live your life and forget about this horrible world.” Her eyes were filled with tears but she forced herself to keep talking. “If you love me, if you really love me, please just leave me here and try to be happy with …with  someone else, anywhere else.”

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to lose her. “I told you before that that’s not happening Alexis. Forget it.”

“Drake, we can’t be together. We just can’t.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “It kills me too but If I have to live my life seeing you being miserable here, I won’t be able to do it, and if I leave with you and something happens to her, I’ll die.” She was openly crying now. “Can’t you see that no matter what I choose I lose something?”

His chest tightened “I know, baby.” He kissed her front.

Liam hadn’t been able to wait in his office for more than a few minutes. The jealousy was killing him. He decided to go to Drake’s office when he got to the threshold and saw him holding her, he approached them almost shaking with rage.

“Do not touch her!”

Alexis gasped “Liam, it’s fine. We’re just talking”

“She doesn’t belong to you, Liam” Drake balled his fists

He tapped a finger into Drake’s chest. “She sure doesn’t belong to you either”

“Get your fucking hands off of me, asshole!”

Liam took Drake by the lapels of his jacket “Or what, Drake. What are you going to do?”

Drake took a swing at Liam connecting his fist with Liam’s jaw, so the blond man hit him back “I’m going to kill you”

Drake grappled him and they fell together to the floor.

Alexis yelled. “Fuck! I can’t take this anymore. Stop or I swear I’ll fucking kill you both myself!”

Both men stopped, panting. Liam threw her an apologetic look.

“Alexis is right, we can’t keep going like this” He turned to her. “We need to talk, darling. Please leave us alone.”

She nodded “I will, just please don’t kill each other”

Drake looked at her cleaning a drop of blood from his swollen lip “Don’t worry, Lexie. We won’t”

Drake stood up from the floor and extended his hand to Liam.

Liam took it .“You still punch hard.” he rubbed his chin.

“You haven’t lost your magic touch either”

Liam sighed “I guess you know everything about Alexis’s story”

“I do,” Drake replied simply.

“I can help her, Drake. I have the resources to do it, and if we marry her father will back off.”

Drake scoffed. “He’s a fucking monster, he won’t just back off. He will keep on asking things because he knows she will do anything for her kid.” He smiled “When she loves someone, she’ll do anything for them”

Liam poured himself and Drake a whiskey. “I love her, Drake.”

Drake gulped his glass. “I know, Liam. I love her too”

“I will help and marry her, but we need to try to be happy, and that won’t happen if you stay here. We were friends, almost brothers, for a long time. I’m asking you for that friendship and for the love you have for her, to leave.”

Drake didn’t want to renounce to her, she had become everything to him, but he wondered if that gave him the right to be an obstacle to her happiness. Right now, she loved him but if he left now, maybe one day she would be able to be happy with Liam. The thought of them together was almost unbearable, but he didn’t have a real choice. He reminded himself that her happiness and safety were the only things that really mattered to him if that meant that he would have to look out for her from afar … he would do it.

“And the scandal?” Drake asked.

“I’ll ask Alexis to give a statement to the press of what happened that day with Tariq. I’ll be there for her. I’m sure they’ll believe her. In any case, Franz and Mara have investigated and they found other women that he has attacked and that are willing to come forward.”

Thinking about Tariq made Drake’s blood boil. “And that asshole? Have you found him?”

“Franz has some leads, apparently he’s in America. In Los Angeles. I swear to you I’ll find him, and he’ll pay for what he almost did that day.”

Drake nodded. “I’ll work in your campaign until you find a replacement for me. After that, I’ll leave.” He took a sharp, painful breath. “If she has to marry you, she deserves at least the opportunity to try and be happy.

Liam placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I appreciate it, Drake-“

Drake raised his hand interrupting him “I mean it, Liam. Make her happy, she deserves…” He stopped himself “She deserves everything, give her everything.”

Liam stared at Drake stupefied “I didn’t know how much you actually cared for her, Drake. I promise I’ll do anything in my power to make her happy”

Drake stared at his former best friend “I don’t care for her, Liam. I love her. I’m crazy about her. She’s the only reason I’m leaving. Her”

Drake stood up and left the office, Alexis was waiting outside. He looked at her one last time, trying to take her all in, trying to print her image in his brain so he would never forget one single part of her. He had never felt anything so painful before. 

They locked eyes for a few seconds, both understanding that it would be for the last time. Both trying painfully not to take the other in their arms. Alexis felt like something inside of her was dying at that moment. 

Finally, Drake shook his head and left her there, broken.

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George entered the rich mansion limping, he also had a swollen eye and a fat lip, all of it, courtesy of Drake Walker. The butler took his coat and walked him to the room where the meeting was being held.

Hakim cocked his brows when he saw the injured ambassador enter the room.

“Is everything alright, George?”

“Perfect. Let’s go straight to the point.”

Hakim nodded. “As my daughter told you, I and some other important people have formed an alliance that will overthrow the democracy. Our plan is to restore the monarchy and give the throne to his rightful heir, Leo.”

George looked at Hakim with obvious contempt. “Leo Rhys? Please, Hakim. Even his father thinks he’s a useless drunk.”

“He is going to give this revolution what it needs, a real cause. There are a lot of royalists in the streets, and they will follow the real heir blindly. Plus, Leo is very easy to manipulate, we will marry him with someone adept to the cause”

“Like your daughter?” George smiled thinking about all the nights he had shared with the beautiful brunette.

“My daughter just ended her engagement, she’s not ready for another one. But we’ll find someone else, someone from an old noble house.”

The American ambassador raised his hands smiling. “It was just an idea”

“The real question is why do you want to join us. Your daughter is about to marry, Liam Rhys”

“After what she did with that Tariq his chances to be president are almost zero, and I need to be in the winning team. I would contribute with money to fund your little movement and you already know what I want in exchange of my…help” He sneered. “And don’t worry about my daughter, we can still use her as an advantage, I‘m sure that I can convince her to help us betray Liam Rhys, she will give us anything we ask.”

Hakim furrowed. “How can you be so sure?”

He gave him an arrogant smile. “Believe me, Hakim, I know. There’s just one more thing I need.”

“You’re already asking us to control all our commercial deals with America. What else could you possibly want, George?”

“Kiara told me the last stage of your plan. I know you are planning to attack Liam Rhys’ headquarters the day of the election.”

Hakim looked at him, thinking that George was going to ask for protection for his daughter, but the rich ambassador had someone else in his mind.

“Well, that day no matter what happens, I need you to kill Drake fucking Walker first”

[darkwritingsnshit]

Fallen Stars

Please disregard my bad writings. This has been on my laptop for months and I wanted to get it off my hard drive. We’ll see where this goes honestly.

Warnings: This will probably be a dark fic with dark characters, noncon elements, smut and death. Please o not read if you are under 18 or uncomfortable with above mentioned plots. 

           The blaster shots glanced by your head as you shoved your guard Nele into a thicket of trees. Though it was her job, you weren’t about to let her die for you, not today.

           “My queen!! We must fall back and regroup, there are too many of them!” Your commander’s voice was panicked and strained, you could tell even through the static against your ear that her words were laced with real fear.

           Fall back, regroup, outnumbered, how had this happened? For a thousand years, your family had led your planet, passed mother to daughter, a matriarchal system that ensured the safety and wellbeing of each and every one of the millions of lives that dotted your planet. Now you were covered in dirt and blood and would be lucky to make it out of these woods alive.

              The peace and booming trade economy that you and your mother fostered, helped by elected leaders of the people, had brought three entire systems to center their economies and influence upon your planet. What had started a thousand years ago as an emerging planet of peace and growth, had transformed into a beacon of political power and a center of influence across the close by systems.

           Not only did you have a planet to look after, but whoever wore the crown and commanded the on-planet senate held the power in all three surrounding systems. Your planet’s largest moon held one of the most impressive and beautiful governing halls since the fall of the Republic. Less grand than it had once been with parts of it bombed down, system leaders still met with you among the standing halls and brokered deals, made laws, fortified trade and ensured protections for all three systems.

           Your planet and system had opposed the Empire and had yet to give into the First Order. Politically, it was a death sentence to endorse your support for the Rebels, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep the First Order from extending their arm’s reach into your system.

In court your mother only openly supported the rights and liberties of her people, she would often raise a toast when the rebels scored a large victory. As a leader, she called it a rightful expression of the people; the people had asked for redress from the First Order and were met with a crushing fist.

When you were alone together, she would tell you of how she had once met Princess Leia Organa on a Rebel base when she was younger. The great queen strong, and her softness for the Rebellion known, your planet indeed housed many Rebels; it was even said to have been one of the last places the Old Republic Senators had ever met as a governing body.

           You were a child when the Empire fell, young but still old enough to remember seeing the last few battles, watching men and women leave your hangars, never to come home. You remember your mother’s ever present fear, could nearly taste it. You remembered that she dressed in all black and was armed at all times, that she taught you to wield a blaster. You saw the celebrations that screamed across the galaxy, the weight lifted and the freedom in the air.

           Over and over, you heard the chants of people in the streets, the jubilation and joy from being freed from the oppressor of the galaxy. You could remember them cheering, screaming through the streets “Never again!”. Never again. Here you were. What had happened?

        _______________________________________________________________

“Supreme Leader, with the submission of-” General Hux knelt with a bowed head in front of a man held together by darkness and evil energy he could feel radiating from every particle.

           “Don’t you see?! It does not matter how many simple, puny planets are crushed into submission. This planet has held the influence of three systems for a thousand years! As long as she stands opposed to the First Order, there will be rebellion in not one, but THREE star systems!!” Snoke’s rotting skin seemed translucent in the lights from the ship, his gold cloak doing nothing to hide the lacerations along his throat.

           “It would be simple to destroy, Supre-” Started another well-meaning officer from behind General Hux.

           “NO! Does no one listen? The destruction of this planet leads the systems against us in open warfare! Should this planet fall under our thumb, so do all three systems; without a body count and without losing valuable First Order time and resources.”

           “Supreme Leader. I have some information that may serve you well.” Kylo Ren stepped forward from the shadows hiding him along the wall, holding in front of him a small square data chip. “From this new information, it seems like the conflict among the planet’s rulers may have swung in our favor.”

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

           Under the cover of dark you and your guard Nele made it to a rendezvous point and were able to get medical care and some rest. You saw to it that Nele got enough to eat before finding your general for an update.

           “What’s the status on your front?” General Lin flinched as you stepped out of the shadows, General Mar smiled, though it was short lived.

           “Casualties were high in the pass, your stepbrother’s men had the high ground.” Lin’s grim face was dirty, uniform covered in dark stains.

           “There may be better news from the left right flank your highness.” Mar stepped forward with a smile. Good news? Anything, you would be grateful for any advantage now.

           “It seems your stepfather doesn’t know about the old battlements below the cliffs.” Your general stepped forward with a map of the area, you all drew forward around her.

General Mar traced a finger over the path down the Cyone Cliffs to where they led to the tucked away cove below. You smiled at your general, grateful for her years of service to your family. There were secrets unbeknownst even to you hidden in your new kingdom. Both generals had served your mother for years; you were learning so much from what they passed on to you.

“Below the cliffs is a stone fortress with rations, a ship and supplies. It’s hidden by the foliage and angle of the rock, with tunnels creating access points to the hill above.” Mar, Lin and the arranged officers turned to you.

“It’s not fortified enough to be a base, but it’s a place to lie low and regroup. Let’s get the ship up and running, we can meet the rest of the royal army on the other side of the continent.” There was a murmuring of agreement before you dismissed them and spoke closely with Lin and Mar.

 “What do you think? Really?” At that moment you weren’t a queen standing before your generals, you were a young adult begging for help from her nearly dead mother’s trusted advisors.

“It’s alright wildflower, we aren’t losing ground, you’ve made the right decision.” Mar’s hand on your shoulder was comforting, you closed your eyes and breathed deep. Lin smiled at you and took your hands.

“Your mother is proud of you, little wildflower.” Her eyes were the same color as your mother’s. “You are fighting for your people, and we will not give up. We will win for them, for all of our people, understand?” You nodded your head.

“Thank you both, your advice and words of comfort bring me more strength than you can believe.” Mar and Lin had stepped back and gave you approving looks.

“Get some sleep, my queen.” Mar called after you as you made your way to your sleeping pad for a few hours of rest.

   Sleep did not come easy; the casualties of the battle weighed heavy on your mind, as did the weight of the decisions on where to move next.

Your stepfather didn’t know your planet like you did. Of course he didn’t, he and your stepbrothers came to your planet when they were grown. Your mother had agreed to marry your stepfather to incite peace and new trades. Your stepfather came from a family with wealth around the system, though he had none of his own. A marriage to a well-respected queen brought your stepfather and older stepbrothers to your prosperous, blooming planet.

You could remember bits and pieces of your real father, but he had died when you were young. There were whispers of him being a secret rebel who died in one of the last battles, though your mother shushed such rumors. When you were a child you would memorize each detail of their wedding photos, and each memory of him that the elder women would tell you.

After the remarriage, your new stepfather pushed your mother to change the line of succession, and have his sons take the crown when your mother was to pass. Your mother’s anger echoed through the halls that day, you remember smiling when her shouting echoed off the stone walls around the palace. All efforts of your stepfather trying to finagle his way into your crown seemed to have stopped. Until at least, your mother got sick.

Just over six months ago, your mother had begun to feel ill. At first it was nausea, cramping and stomach pains, her throat turned and stayed sore, and eventually her heart began to beat irregularly. In shock and horror, you watched your perfectly strong, regal mother deteriorate in the span of months, until she slipped into the comma, she remained in.

As soon as your mother had been too ill to attend meetings, your stepfather had immediately seized control of the crown. For a thousand years, the crown had passed, mother to daughter, and it wasn’t until your mother was non-responsive that your stepfather officially declared himself king of your planet, no matter anyone’s protests.

  A King on the Queen’s throne of Galia did not sit well with most of your planet. Nevertheless, taking advantage of your mother’s severe state, your stepfather had taken over the royal palace with the help of his sons and their armies, and you were forced to flee and regroup with those who were still loyal to you.

There were few who were loyal to the new King of Galia, those that did were paid men or your stepbrother’s armies who had never been on planet. It angered you to see so many innocent lives lost, so much of your planet destroyed over a crown, over a throne.

Truthfully, you cared not for the crown or a palace to overlook the hills, you cared about the people living in those hills, the wellbeing of the children in the fields and if everyone in the village had enough to eat. Your stepbrothers would call you a wildflower when they saw you running through the streambeds, down dusty roads barefoot. When you would run to your mother and complain, she would laugh, and ask you why you would be upset that someone had called you something as lovely as a wildflower.

 Wiping nostalgia back from your brain, you pictured topographical maps and battle lines drawn across them. With any luck, you would be able to overpower, outmaneuver and take back the palace within 30-35 rotations. You were in a bad position now, but with your general’s knowledge of the land and the base on the other continent, you would be safe by this time tomorrow.

  _________________________________________________________

 “Ships are closing on the planet sir, we’ll send stormtroopers planetside once we arrive.” Standing on the bridge, a man read off his data pad and tried not to make eye contact.

“Thank you Major, that will be all. Deploy three battalions to the palace and wait for myself and Ren to arrive.” Hux glanced at him and continued on his data pad until the Star Destroyer came to a halt in front of a blue and green swirling planet.

The information that Ren had brought forward gave insight to an unbelievable situation. The Queen was near dead, her husband took the throne and the princess was in exile rallying troops. Snoke had insisted they pounce on the situation, taking the opportunity to give full support to the dying Queen’s husband. If the new King were only in power because of the First Order, he would be easy to control. Control the planet, control the system.

Hux’s data pad lit up when the battalions were leaving the docking station and he took his greatcoat from where it was hanging and prepared to arrive on Galia. Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren met Hux on the shuttle, an admittedly tense but short ride.

Stepping onto the planet, Hux realized that he was overdressed, as heat and humidity washed over him. The palace itself was grand as he expected; a thousand years of architecture and design had gone into a beautiful white stoned palace that seemed to be rising out of the sea and growing from the mountainside it was built on. From what Hux had gathered, there were several decent sized continents, but the rest of the planet was a warm archipelago.

Troops and ships were deploying around them as two men that Hux didn’t recognize came hurrying up to the approaching soldiers. Ren waved down the troopers that drew weapons at the approaching men. They raised their hands, showing they came unarmed, and walked towards the generals and their men.

“We received your offer of assistance and are more than grateful to you!” One man shouted from a few feet. He held up a holodisk that Ren snatched from his open palm using the force. With a click, the disk lit up, an older man dressed in finery spoke to the generals.

“It is with great thanks that I, King of Galia received the First Order’s offer of assistance. We welcome you into our palace upon your arrival and will be happy to get you and your troops anything you could need. My messengers will bring you to the palace for your reception.” The holodisk went dark in Ren’s palm.

“Please gentlemen, have your men follow us to the palace where our King will be happy to make accommodations and arrangements for everyone.” The other of the two messengers spoke. Ren nodded his head once, motioned two fingers foreword.

“Lead the way.” Came Ren’s masked voice, already following the two men towards the palace.

 The First Order’s procession of troops and tanks made way to the shining palace, finding more soldiers wearing different uniforms standing in formation, awaiting their arrival. Three men stood before rest, the generals and Captain Phasma crossed the rest of the path to meet them.

“Esteemed guests, welcome!” Your stepfather stepped forward to greet the First Order at his palace gates. “Please come inside, we have so much to discuss.”

  __________________________________________________________

 Sleeping little, you rose before dawn to oversee everyone’s preparation to evacuate. You wanted to make sure that all your soldiers and supporters got out safely before you did. You were the one making the plans, you had to make sure that those who were following your orders would be safe.

“We’ve got soldiers moving down the cliffs already, your highness, they’ll be getting the ship and communications ready to go.” General Mar was at your right shoulder, watching you strain to see through the dark.

“That’s a relief, we’re going to be vulnerable and at a disadvantage climbing down the cliffs.” You hadn’t been down them before but weren’t picturing the best fighting position.

“We will be under cover of foliage for most of the journey. We will leave food supplies and unnecessary equipment hidden here. We won’t take anything with us besides weapons, droids and the electronics we need to make a safe departure.” Mar looked to the suns that weren’t yet illuminating the horizon.

“It seems you’ve thought of everything General. I’m thankful to have you by my side.” Words wouldn’t ever let her know how much you needed her.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, wildflower. Lin has the maps and oversees communications. You will find her at the tent down to the right. When you are close enough, you’ll see it.” Mar gave your shoulder a squeeze and pointed you in the direction of General Lin.

It was hard to see in the dark, though the sky was slightly lightening, you could hear the hushed whispers and were able to see a makeshift tent in the grass. Picking out the general’s whisper from the others, you found Lin directing her soldiers and scanning maps. From what you could see, about a quarter of your company was already on the cliffs or below, and secure communications seemed to be up and running. You were always impressed by what she was able to pull together.

“We are working to hurry the progress my lady, we know that with every minute we stay is a minute in your stepfather’s favor.” Lin whispered across the table.

“I am beyond impressed by your operations here General, I am forever indebted to you and your soldiers.” You whispered back, near silent operations swirling around you.

“Your highness,” Lin began, “you are indebted to no one. You are our Queen, and we have pledged our lives and loyalty your mother, to you and any children you may have. We are proud to serve you, to fight and die for you because of all your family has done for our planet and our people.” Sincerity laced every one of her features.

“Thank you,” you managed, blinking back tears you wouldn’t let spill. “Please don’t let me hold up your operations, I will ready my ladies to go.”

  The dawn was about to break; you were fighting the suns as you ran across the grass. You insisted on being among the last of your soldiers down the cliffs. Your generals had been against it, but there had been no trace of movement from your stepbrother’s army and they didn’t have the manpower or knowledge of the terrain for an effective pursuit. You wanted to make sure all of your women were safe and ready to evacuate before leaving your position.

“Final squad, three minutes incoming,” you breathed over the transmitter to Mar.

“Copy that; shuttle is prepared for departure, awaiting your arrival. I want to take off the second you’re aboard, come down the dock running your highness!” Mar barked.

Truly the cliffs that overlooked the sea were a breathtaking sight. If you could, you would sit back and admire the suns beginning to shine across the sparkling water, turning the world before you to a sea of sapphires dotted with emerald islands as you looked to the east. In too much of a hurry, you and your guards focused on getting down to the ship and to safety.

The trail was easy enough; able to walk three across it was nicer than many hiking trails you had been on. General Lin had done a wonderful job clearing it in the night, you could see stumps where trees had grown across and layers of foliage tossed to the sides that had been hiding the old war paths. Mar told you this particular trail hadn’t been used for nearly a hundred years, and the maps your stepfather was using had no record of the old trails.

“The fool has no respect for the ways of our planet, the ways of our people. If he does not read the histories, he will be blind to the futures.” Mar had expressed to you in exasperation one night.

“Two minutes and closing, ready the ship for takeoff,” you called over the radio, wanting to be gone from this part of the planet so securely under your stepfather’s control. Still moving, you heard only static.

“Repeat, one minute 45 seconds and closing, what’s your status?” Still nothing. “Mar? Lin?” you had radio silence.

“Stop.” You held your hand up and your company came to a halt. Staying still, you listened but heard nothing. Birds screamed above your head, the wind shifted, and you tasted salt. If you stayed where you were, you had nowhere to go. Sending a silent prayer that there was something wrong with the transmitter, you tried again.

“Mar, what’s your status?” You and your soldiers were silent, the only sounds coming from the wind, waves, and birds.

“Your highness,” It wasn’t general Mar who you expected, but Lin who sounded breathless.

“Lin what’s going on?” You still held your hand in the stop position, every one of you were watching the transmitter with bated breath.

“The- one of the engineers thought there was a problem with a fuel cell…” Lin’s voice cut out before continuing. “We’ve prepared for takeoff your highness.”

Nele, your personal guard shifted beside you, concern written across her face.

“It’s supposed to be Mar,” Nele shook her head and shifted closer to you.

“What do you suggest, Nele?” You asked her in a whisper. All of the women around you looked uneasy. There was a murmur among them but Nele again shook her head.

“It’s up to you, my queen. But from where I see it, there’s nowhere to go but forward. There is nothing left for you on this side of the planet.” Nele gripped her blaster closer.

“You’re right, Nele.” Something felt wrong, but you squared up your shoulders. “One minute 45 seconds and closing, be ready for takeoff.” You motioned with your hands and your party continued forward with you.

“Copy.” Was the only response from Lin as you hurried your way down the cliffs.

 “Thirty seconds Lin, I don’t hear the engines you need to be ready!” You and Nele were almost sprinting the last few meters before the trail would open up into the loading dock.

“We’re ready,” came Lin’s reply over the transmitter you clutched opposite your gun.

Company in tow, you and Nele made the last turn before skittering to a halt, Nele stepping her entire body in front of yours and backing you behind your approaching soldiers. You found yourself in the middle of a company of your closest soldiers, blasters drawn, completely unprepared for what faced you.

  _____________________________________________________________

General Hux was loathe to admit when something had upstaged his expectations, but the royal palace of Galia was too stunning to hold grudges against. Even the foundations of the palace were impressive; inlaid with stones that held fossils of ancient creatures from the depth of Galia’s oceans.

The library and data catalogue were something else altogether. Hux had only seen this much data and information in highly secure military bases, and from what he could gather, most of it was open to the public. Thousands of years of information were behind two doors that seemed to never close.

After Captain Phasma had been dispatched to organize and prepare all the troops, Hux sent a tactical droid to learn as much as possible about any and all battle stations, bases, and war intel on the planet in the last three hundred years. It would transmit the information to Phasma so she could better her battle plans.

In the brief meeting Hux had surmised that the new King of Galia was an insufferable idiot. This would be too easy. Should the exiled princess be captured, any rebellion would be short lived. With the king under the influence of the First Order and the princess at their mercy, the planet would have no choice but to crumble to the First Order. Rejoining the king and Ren, Hux was fairly confident with their mission.

“General.” Captain Phasma strode forward, the din of the army faint behind her. “Based on the king’s information of their last battle, and maps compiled by the tactical droid, I believe we’ve pinpointed the princess’s location.

“She’s no princess!” The king spoke up from beside the general. “She’s a traitor to the crown and has been removed from any chance of succession. She is no princess on Galia.”

The general chose to ignore the king’s outburst, wanting more information.

“Show us where, captain.” Came Ren’s deep voice came before Hux had the chance.

Captain Phasma held up a holodisk that showed a piece of land, with terrain and trails marked across the landscape.

“Based on the information your sons have given me about the last battles and where they would have a chance to regroup, the only place they could seek refuge would be these old battlements on the Cyone Cliffs.”

The king balked at the captain’s maps. “Those old maps and trails haven’t been used in a hundred years, there’s no way they would even know about those battlements.”

“You assume too much.” Ren’s voice made the room drop in temperature, the king pall. “You underestimate the princess and her support.”

The king didn’t answer but shifted uncomfortably and grumbled.

“Captain,” began Hux, “how sure are you of the princess’s position?”

“If the information I’ve been given by the king’s son is correct, there’s nowhere else she could be, general.” Phasma answered.

“She’s there.” Came Ren’s clipped tone, he was already striding from the room towards his shuttle.

“Move the troops out Captain.” Hux told Phasma before turning to the king, looking smug. “We will retrieve the princess and return to the palace shortly.”

General Hux left the king looking rather speechless in his own hall. Truly the general had no care for what the king thought. He had invited the First Order to Galia with open arms, Hux would be damned if this old man got in the way now.

Flying over yesterday’s battlefield Hux saw bodies smattered across fields, dark stains against trampled, emerald green grasses. Following Phasma’s coordinates, the ground dropped off beneath the shuttle to sparkling water beneath. Turning and flying low, close to the blue water, Hux watched white cliffs pass before his eyes. Still descending, the shuttle nearly touched the water before a dock came into view, with a shuttle for 100 powered up and preparing for takeoff.

“Fire on that ship. I want it grounded not destroyed, the princess may be inside.” Hux instructed an admiral before him. Within seconds the back half of the shuttle was in flames, people running to evacuate.

“Phasma, land your troops and contain the solders. Kill anyone who isn’t an officer of higher ranking.” Hux watched as his three airships landed, troops pouring out and surrounding the shuttle and soldiers who had been preparing it for takeoff.  

Meeting Ren on the dock, Hux watched as chaos ensued around him. Women being knocked down to their knees, the smell of burnt flesh rising as firing squads made bodies drop. Within minutes there were but five left alive, being shoved towards Hux and Ren at the end of Phasma’s blaster.

“We’ve identified three rebel officers and two generals, general.” Phasma reported, the five women surrounded by twice as many guards.

Looking over the group they were raggedy indeed; blood, sweat and singed clothing, matted hair, he saw scared soldiers who had watched all their friends and sisters die. There were two who stood out, one who seemed to hold no fear, the other gave away her position by monitoring the officers too closely- they were her responsibility.

“Where is the princess?” Came Ren’s modulated voice, a cold feeling creeping into the bones of those surrounding them. When he got no response, he lifted a hand and brought all the women to their knees, holding their throats.

“Stop!” One of the women spoke and raised her hand to Ren.

“Where is, the princess? I won’t ask again.” Ren had released the soldiers, the one who had spoken standing to face him.

“We have no princess on Galia, this army is loyal to the Queen, who is safe.” The woman’s voice was steady, her eyes did not betray the same fear that was written on her fellow soldier’s faces.

A blaster shot sounded, one of the soldiers dropped dead behind the woman speaking. A scream came up from the others, but the woman held steady and stared at Ren unflinchingly.

“I see you’re prepared to die for your queen.” The chill was still palpable in the air. “Let’s see if your soldiers feel the same way.” Ren nodded to Phasma who pushed forward the second women who seemed more and more concerned for the three other soldiers.

This time it was Hux who stepped forward, pacing around the woman with fear written in her eyes.

“If you don’t tell us where the queen is, I will have my captain dismember each of your soldiers in front of you until you are so inclined to give us her position. Do you understand me?” He came to a stop before her, she was glancing between her soldiers and the other woman who had spoken to Ren. To prove a point, Phasma sharply kicked a soldier to her knees, eliciting a cry of pain. The woman before Hux dropped her eyes to the ground.

“She’s not here yet.” She spoke softly, as if she was trying to keep her soldiers from hearing her admission.

Hux nodded sharply, then motioned to Phasma. “Take them away.” Phasma marched the remaining three soldiers away, leaving two before Ren and Hux. “When will she be here?” Hux spoke directly.

“She won’t come until she has confirmation from us.” Eyes still downcast, voice still soft.

“Then I suppose it’s up to you to give her that confirmation.” Ren spoke again, his helmet turned towards the first woman, her calm upsetting him.

“I can’t do that.” Was the even reply that came from her. With an angry yell and a sweep of his arm, Ren sent the woman flying across the landing dock, her body hitting the stone cliff and falling to the ground.

Like two wolves closing in on dying prey, both Ren and Hux turned towards the last woman standing before them.

“If you want your soldiers and your queen to die, put up a fight. We have you surrounded. If you feel so inclined to save a life today, you’ll give us what we need and you’ll give it to us now.” Hux had a blaster trained on her and was close enough to intimidate the smaller woman with his height.

The woman glanced around, taking stock of the troops of First Order soldiers and aircrafts closing in on the space above.

“I’ll help you, if you can insure the safety of my queen and her escort.” Was her reply.

“We can talk about your requests once you’ve done your part.” Snarled Hux, taking her by the arm. “What signal?” He shoved her towards the communications panel. Hux set the channel to 732 after a grumble from the woman and waited for a transmission.

“Two minutes and closing, ready the ship for takeoff.” The station crackled to life, both Ren and Hux turning to the woman expectantly. Looking jumpy, the woman struggled to take the transmitter and respond.

“Repeat, one minute 45 seconds and closing, what’s your status?” A crackle. “Mar? Lin?” The transmitter lit up with each word.

Looking panicked, the woman turned to Hux with wide eyes. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to be answering.” She whispered

“It doesn’t matter, just get her here.” Hux hissed out in annoyance.

“Mar, what’s your status?” This time she gripped the transmitter and was able to speak over the radio.

“Your highness,” the woman spoke

“Lin what’s going on?” The breath was quick coming from the other end, winded.

“The- one of the engineers thought there was a problem with a fuel cell…” She let go of the button and let out a long sigh, looking between Ren and Hux. “We’ve prepared for takeoff your highness.”

“One minute 45 seconds and closing, be ready for takeoff.” From the sounds, whoever had the transmitter was on the run.

“Copy.” Was the terse reply. Hux, Ren and the woman waited as troops formed up around them, facing the trail that the queen would be coming down withing minutes. Hux felt almost unable to control the delight at capturing someone who could bring so much of the galaxy under the control of the First Order. And it had been too easy.

“Thirty seconds Lin, I don’t hear the engines you need to be ready!” Again, came the voice over the transmitter.

“We’re ready.” Sounding dead, the woman responded to the transmission with closed eyes.

“Hold formation!” Hux yelled and his soldiers snapped to position, waiting for whoever was going to come out of those trees.

[rainbowrocky248]

Looking for D&D Players Again

Game: D&D 5e

Current Level: 3-4

Language: English

Group Type: Online [we use Roll20 and Discord]

My Role: DM

Roles Sought: Players [2-3 for a long term, pre-established campaign]

Timezone: Eastern/Centeral Standard Time

Times Available: Our next game is not currently scheduled as we’re taking a break, but I’m eager to bring in new players anyways even if we won’t start up again in a month or two :D

How Often: Weekly

About Me: Hello, my name is Rocky [he/him or fae/faer]! I’m looking for committed players for a long term campaign! We’re already deep in the midst of one and are looking for two or three more players as most of the ogs have left. We will be using Discord [voice chat only] for communication and Roll20 as our online gaming platform. I am a relatively new DM looking for people passionate about roleplaying! I have seven years of roleplaying experience with Pathfinder, a year with D&D 5e, and six months of DMing for this campaign. Players of all sorts of experience are welcome, but our party is primarily made of new players so we are very open to having you come learn the rules with us. We’re LGBT+ friendly and expect anyone interested in joining to be as well!

Character Creation: A lot of time and effort has been put into the Tales of the Planewalkers campaign, both on my end as the DM creating this universe and from the players who have each created wonderful characters. We look forward to whoever wishes to join us! You have to understand that I would like a similar level of effort to be put back into the game. I don’t want uncommitted players here so if you could create a synopsis for a character idea that would be great! It doesn’t have to be incredibly detailed, just say your race, class, and at least five sentences of background story. You’re welcome to make changes before game play, especially once I reveal more things about the lore to you if you join the party.

World Setting:

You come from a world you call Estrya. Estrya is home to a number of races who belong to a number of kingdoms that worship a number of Deities. Depending on which pantheon you belong to, you believe in differing legends about the creation of your world. All pantheons have agreed however that there are realms beyond the world of Estrya where the Deities reside, these magical worlds unique to the Deities residing within them. Contact with these realms is unique but not rare. A young Tiefling can connect with their Archdevil parentage through a simple spell, a seasoned wizard can astral project himself into the Beastlands when he sleeps, a powerful sorceress can even create portals and venture to and from these realms, and on the rarest of occasions a god can even be summoned to the Material Plane through their highest ranking cleric. Rumors prevail the lands of angels and devils walking among you, whispering words of advice or trickery into your ears. There are histories of Demigods becoming rulers of mighty empires that lasted for centuries. These are the reasons why religion is a core value in Estrya, because it is an undoubted truth that such beings of unfathomable power exist. It is seen as incredibly odd in your world if you do not belong to some pantheon or another and actively worship the gods. Atheistic or agnostic people are treated with an air of suspicion or idiocy by the people who know of their skepticism. Because the world of Estrya is so rich in the influence of the realms outside of the material plane, beings like Tieflings and Dragonborn are not put under the same scrutiny they would be on other worlds. Each race treats other races differently in their own ways, like the incessant rivalry between Elves and Dwarves, or the embracing acceptance Humans have for most other races, or the respect all races seem to have for the Dragonborn as they are seen as the oldest of the humanoid races on Estrya, though the Dragonborn might not return such respect. All in all though the races generally get along. That does not mean that Estrya is a peaceful utopia however. Wars are often fought between kingdoms over land and resources, and between religious sects over the definition of good and evil or the claimant of a holy land. Today the land is relatively peaceful, though whispers of an uprising of evil is being spread amongst the faiths of good.

Current Location:

Our players have found themselves lost in the Astral Plane with no certain way home. The Astral Plane is a realm of myth and mystery, a place where dreams are reality. The eternal silver sea wraps around you in an opaque fog as you float by with the sheer will power of your mind. Most simply pass through the plane, but there are some strange creatures that live here, most of which feast on the thoughts of others. Why have you come to the Astral Plane? What brings you to join this band of home seekers?

If that setting sounds interesting to you and you’re excited to get started then this is the campaign for you! I would just like to reiterate that this is a long term campaign that’s already fostered six months of play time with previous players, so we are looking for a certain level of commitment here. I hope you find our future adventures a lot of fun and build some meaningful relationships from it in the future as I have so far!

The Current Party:

Ivan - Pakari (homebrew humanoid Wolf race) Fighter

Liliana - Kitsune (homebrew humanoid fox race) Rogue

Setyr - Pakari (homebrew humanoid wolf race) Sorcerer

For Applications: You can message me on tumblr PMs with the application filled out

Name: [doesn’t have to be your full or real name, just whatever you’d like myself and the other players to call you]

Age: [this game will not be accepting anyone under the age of 17 or over the age of 25]

Pronouns:

Timezone:

Availability: [just a rough estimate on what days of the week you can play]

Experience: [please have at least read the first chapter of the Player’s Handbook, even if you’ve never played before]

Discord Tag:

Gaming Style: [we are a roleplay heavy group so keep this in mind and be ready for it!]

Fun Fact about yourself:

Character Race/Class:

Character Backstory:

Any Questions, Comments, Concerns:

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

This is the backstory for my Elder Scrolls character Azirina. Obsidian belongs to @obsidiansobsessions. Sorry it is so long, I had alot to squeeze in.

 Azirina Kharabbi was born on 4 Rain's Hand 4E 180. Daughter of the chieftain Ri'siri and Inorsi, she is a Suthay-raht Khajiit, born under Masser's new phase and Secunda's waning phase. Throughout her childhood, she was raised in her village in Northern Elsweyr. Being a Nomadic tribe, they often moved around before settling in a valley between two mountains. 

 Many other tribes and travellers ignored her village, whispering about how it was a cursed village. Especially considering she was the only young child. Her village did trade with sailors from the lands of Skyrim, but were mostly outcast by others for their worship of the Daedric Prince Molag Bal. Whilst she was not initially included in most of the worship, she would still be taught their ways. 

 At the age of eleven, approximately one week before her twelfth birthday, Azirina made her way into ColdHarbour. To this day, she is still unaware of why or how the portal opened. But it was this moment, this unintentional wander, that put her on the path to fate. Having walked ColdHarbour and survived as a child, Molag Bal issued a message to the village. 

 On her twelfth birthday, Azirina was to be offered to Molag Bal as his bride. To serve as a link between Nirn and Oblivion for Molag Bal to use as he saw fit. During the ceremony, this is where Azirina first saw the Dark Elf Obsidian, whom she would later adventure with. 

 Unfortunately, the ceremony was not completed, an arrow in the throat killing her father right before her eyes. With an attack by the Thalmor, her village was slaughtered and destroyed. Azirina escaped, first fleeing with her mother past others who threw themselves at the Thalmor to protect her. It was during her escape that her ears were torn, wire looping through her earrings and tearing them out of her flesh. Upon seeing a mark burned into her shoulder, the Thalmor tried to murder Azirina. Until her mother leapt in. The surprise attack gave Azirina her chance to escape, at the cost of her mother's life. Seizing her moment, the young Khajiit fled to the docks and boarded a ship for Skyrim. 

 For six months, she lived aboard that ship, taken under the crew's wing and taught how to sail and fight. It was also here that she began to truly feel free. Once the ship docked in Solitude, Azirina left to start exploring her new home. It didn't start well, with a gang attempting to kidnap the young Khajiit to sell into slavery. Thanks to the skills taught to her by the sailors, she managed to escape and found herself joining on of the caravans travelling the roads of Skyrim. 

 The first caravan she joined raised her as though she had always been there. Ji'enji, the leader of the caravan, taught her the ways of magic as well as speech to help peddle wares. As she was young, she was allowed to enter a few of the cities, and those she wasn't, she snuck into. This pattern continued for nine years until the civil war in Skyrim began to grow too big. 

 At the request of Ji'enji, Azirina scouted a safe route for the caravan to leave Skyrim. It was during this time that she was caught trying to get across the border after the caravan. On her 21st birthday, Azirina was captured by the Imperial legion and taken to Helgen. As she was about to be executed, Alduin attacked. As the town was decimated, Azirina fled with Ralof and began her journey as the Dragonborn.

 During her travels, Azirina wiped out numerous threats to Skyrim including Alduin, where she made friends with Paarthunax and Odahviing, much to the despair of the blades. Despite their best attempts, Azirina refused to kill Paarthunax, agreeing with his philosophy that it is better to overcome an evil nature through great effort. Her journey through this led her to become the leader of the Thieves Guild, the listener for the remnants of the Dark Brotherhood and the Harbinger of the companions. 

 It was during her time with the companions that she met her future husband Farkas. The two of them travelled together, each passing moment with the kind hearted Farkas making Azirina fall deeper for him. Their wedding was one of her happiest days, even attended by a Jarl. With Farkas at her side, and the support of her two adopted children, Lucia and Blaise, Azirina bested the Vampire Lord Harkon, becoming friends with Serana. And defeated, with great unwillingness, the first Dragonborn Miraak. 

 Approximately two years after she fought Miraak, Azirina had been fighting a dragon outside of Solitude, keeping it away from the city. As she watched it leave, having managed to bend its will to hers, she was stabbed in the back by a lone member of the silver hand by a poisoned blade. She killed them in retaliation, but soon found herself succumbing to the poison. As she thought death was about to claim her, she was found by the dark elf Obsidian. The two quickly became friends and adventured together, where Obsidian helped Azirina remember her home in Elsweyr. And the sad truth that she was being pursued by a Daedric prince. 

 The two of them fought to stop his pursuit, but, when Skyrim was threatened, Azirina made a sacrifice. She gave herself up to Molag Bal, the prince pursuing her, agreeing to fulfil the promise her parents made and binding herself to him. Obsidian and Farkas begged for her not to. But Azirina knew her freedom was not worth the cost of so many lives. Azirina completed the ceremony with Molag Bal, becoming his bride and heading to ColdHarbour. She has been there since then. Every day, every waking moment when she is not doing all in her power to avoid Molag Bal, she waits for Obsidian to come and rescue her.

[aestheticsandwriting]

One-Shot a Day, Day 18: Pretend BF/GF- RvB

Day 18: Pretend BF/GF. Wash stays on Chorus after the war to help with the recovery efforts, though he still stays in close contact with the others on the moon. During that time, he and Kimball become close, though only friends. The Reds, Blues, and Carolina all know he has somebody close in his life, and they think it’s a girlfriend, so when they invite him to their monthly dinner together, they suggest he bring her.

“Everything’s still good for you to come out to dinner on the twenty-eighth, right?” Wash smiles at how excited Tucker is to see him in person. He never thought he would admit to it, but he misses the former aqua-colored soldier as well. 

“Yep, I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to seeing you all again. Four weeks really can seem like a lifetime.”

“You know there’s always room for you here if you want to come, Wash.” The blond smiles again as Carolina speaks. It had been hard for her to separate from him, and he had asked her to stay, but she refused, telling him it was time she stepped away from being a soldier. The first six months apart she had skyped him every night, needing to see him for reassurance.

“I know, thanks, Carolina, I might come for a weekend sometime, but I’m doing a lot of good here.”

“Oh! Wash, before we forget! When you come next week, bring your girlfriend with you!”

“My girlfriend?” Without his consent, his cheeks immediately start turning red at the pink-clad man, and he internally curses his pale skin for what must be the billionth time in his life. “I don’t-”

“Oh come on, Wash, you’re always hanging out with this mysterious female friend of yours, there has to be something going on. We want to meet her!”

“Tucker, I don-”

“Nope, no excuses. See you next week!” Donut hits the ‘end call’ button, leaving Wash to gently drop his forehead against the table in front of him in the abandoned mess hall, an exasperated groan leaving his mouth.

“That doesn’t sound good,” the female voice laughs out gently, causing Wash to startle slightly and raise his head. “Want to talk?”

"I'm going to Iris next Thursday for monthly dinner with the gang, and somehow they've all gotten it in their heads that I have a girlfriend," he pauses for a beat, "and that I need to bring her with me." 

"But you don't have a girlfriend." 

"But I don't have a girlfriend," he sighs, "they claim I have a girlfriend cause of this 'mysterious female friend' I'm always doing things with, and I know I've mentioned your name before, but I guess they don't think it's you? And I guess they don't listen to the fact that most of what I tell them we're doing is rebuilding efforts and they haven't put two and two together? I don't know, but now I'm stuck in this predicament." 

"I'll go with you." The dark-haired woman finally takes a seat next to the blond, placing her hands on the table in front of them.

"Kimball, I can't ask you to do that." 

"You don't have to, I'm offering. I could use the break, and it would be good to see them again." 

"You know it means either us pretending to be in a relationship the whole time or an awkward explanation as to why you're with me but how we're not together." Wash's blue eyes light up with the prospect, and the former general can see the excitement he's trying to conceal. 

"I think it would be fun to play with them a bit, don't you? Let them think they were right and then tell them after we get home." Her dark eyes twinkle with mischief, smirk donning her lips.

“You’re an evil woman Vanessa Kimball, and I absolutely love that idea. You’ll come as my plus one, we’ll spend the evening pretending we’re together, and then the next day when we have our weekly skype session, I’ll tell them it was fake,” the blond laughs, looking forward to getting back at his friends for some of the ridiculous pranks they’ve pulled on him over the years. 

“We should even come up with cute nicknames for each other,” she laughs out.

“Oh, they’re going to flip when you step off that pelican next to me, babe.” Wash grins, shying away playfully as she smacks his shoulder lightly.

“Do not call me that.”

“Love? Darling? My dearest?”

“Have you ever been in a relationship, Washington?”

“Once or twice. Though never with somebody as formidable as you,” the blond replies, a sincere smile taking the place of the joking one from the moments previous, a few butterflies in his stomach at the thought of having her as a girlfriend, something that had been happening more and more frequently the more they spent time together. ‘No, Washington, this is only fake to pull a prank on your friends. None of this will be real.’ 

“Thank you, I appreciate that. How about you just stick to calling me ‘Nessa. I haven’t let anybody call me that in a long time.” Wash can see the vulnerability in her eyes even as she tried desperately to hide it, smiling inwardly at the closeness of their bond, glad to have a friend that he can confide in and that they will confide in him. “I’m going to try to get some sleep,” she continues, Wash barely catching the words through his train of thought. as she rises, patting his shoulder before taking a few steps, pausing, turning slightly back towards him and finishing her sentence, “you should do the same, honey.” She smiles wickedly as she turns and dashes from the room before he can react, leaving him laughing as her footsteps retreat down the hallway.

Six days later, the two board their pelican in casual dress, Wash in jeans and an old hoodie that had somehow managed to stay with him since freelancer, and Kimball in slacks and a blouse having come straight from work to the hanger. “Buckled?” The dark-haired woman asks.

“Yep, ready to go.”

“Hanger two command, this is pelican five requesting clearance for flight to Iris.” Wash had been shocked when he found out Vanessa was a pilot, though he really shouldn’t have been, but that was going to make the flight there and back more enjoyable. No nosey pilot to hear them practicing at being a couple and spreading rumors. There was nothing odd about her deciding things were stable enough to go see the group that helped save their planet, there would definitely have been talk, though, if a pilot had heard them calling each other pet names.

“Pelican five, this is hanger two command you are clear for takeoff, have a nice flight.”

“Thank you, hanger two, pelican five out.” 

“AGENT WASHINGTON IS HERE!” The pretend couple hears Caboose’s voice through the closed pelican door, rolling their eyes at the formerly regulation blue soldier’s words, knowing that the others will be emerging from the base momentarily. 

“You ready for this? There’s still time for you to go hide in the cockpit and me to tell them the truth right now.” The blond looks at his companion earnestly, truly wanting her to be comfortable with what they’re about to do.

“I’m ready.” She reaches out and hits the ‘door open’ button with her left hand, allowing her right to slide into his left, entwining their fingers together, smirk settling on her lips. 

“What. The. Fuck. Wash. You’re dating Kimball and you didn’t tell us?” Wash recoils as Tucker’s voice rises in pitch, grimacing at the volume and intensity of it. “Why the fuck would you keep something like this from us?”

“To be fair, nobody on Chorus knows either, for one. And two, with as much as I mention us going to work on rebuilding plans and political structure, you should’ve put two and two together,” he replies, letting go of Kimball’s hand to give Carolina a hug as she approaches him.

“She’s a keeper,” she whispers in his ear, a faint blush trying to make its way up his neck at her words.

“Thanks, boss. She is pretty great.”

After some idle chatter, mostly the reds and blues asking them about their relationship -and them replying with pre-thought of responses based on what Wash thought they would ask- Simmons announces dinner, a ‘finally’ being uttered by Grif, and they all shuffle into the kitchen.

"So, how long have the two of you been a thing?" Wash blushes slightly at Carolina's words. 

"Not long, couple of months is all," comes Kimball's response. 

'She is so much better at this than I am.' To say that Washington feels out of his league is an understatement; he feels like he's drowning, though hopefully, he doesn't show it. He can get away with faking it to the reds and blues -except maybe Tucker- but fucking with Carolina is a different matter entirely. "It's felt like a lot a lot longer, though," the blond adds, turning to flash a smile at his 'girlfriend,' visibly squeezing her hand twice with his where they rest on the table in view of all their friends. 

"Well gosh, y'all, I'm so happy for you!" 

“Thanks, Donut, we’re happy, and just waiting for the right time to come out publicly with it. You know, there are still some people who are on edge, waiting for another civil war to break out, and this would throw a wrench in their faith in ‘Nessa, so we’re keeping it down-low for now.”

“That seems reasonable. Kimball, I’d like to talk to you about some of the rebuilding efforts, want to go somewhere a little quieter?”

“Of course.” The tan-skinned woman stands, Carolina standing across from her, and she leans down, dropping a kiss on Wash’s temple. “Enjoy your time catching up with Kai and the boys, love.” 

“Dude,” Tucker speaks once the two females have left the room, “how could you not tell me you a Kimball were a thing?”

“Tucker, you have to understand-”

“Yeah, I understand you’re boning the president of Chorus! One of the most badass fucking people ever, and you didn’t tell your best friend!” Wash can tell that Tucker isn’t really hurt, more just disappointed, and hides his laughter easily, thankful for the years of practice.

“You have to understand that it’s been something we just wanted between us for a while,” Wash desperately wishes the words he’s speaking were true, having grown fonder and fonder of the newly elected president in their months spent rebuilding and reshaping Chorus’ future. “Nobody knew until now.” 

“I’m impressed, Wash, never thought you could hide something like this,” that’s Grif finally speaking up, having decided he had stuffed his face enough for the moment -give him about half an hour and he’d have a snack in his hand, Wash knew. “Figured this would be something you couldn’t keep quiet.”

“It’s surprisingly not that difficult.”

    In the other room

“I did want to talk to you about a few things, but first let me tell you that if you ever purposefully hurt David, you will answer to me.”

“Carolina, I-”

“I mean it. He doesn’t need his head or his heart played with any more than it already has been.”

“I have no intention of hurting him; he’s become quite dear to me, and I don’t want that to change.”

“Good. If you ever need help figuring out something about him, give me a call. I don’t know how much about his past he’s told you, but he sometimes has… issues. Mornings, in particular, can be hard for him.”

“Thank you.”

Forty minutes later, the group is curled up in the large living room, having convinced the pair to stay for a movie despite the fact that it means they are now cuddled, almost on top of each other, on the couch, Wash’s arms wrapped around Kimball’s waist. 

They decide on the old earth-favorite, Star Wars Episode Four: A New Hope, all making comments throughout the film, causing Kimball to roll her eyes as she tries to concentrate as the only one that’s never seen it before. “We’ll watch it again sometime so you can actually focus if you’d like, ‘Nessa?” Wash whispers in her ear, silently pleased as he feels goosebumps erupt on her arms, plopping a small kiss on her neck, something they had deemed would be acceptable in certain circumstances to further convince the others of their relationship, smiling back at her as she smiles up at him, nodding her agreement.

By the end of the movie, Kimball is asleep, Wash loathe to wake her, but unwilling to stay the night, “‘Nessa, time to head back to Chorus.” 

“Hmm? Oh, is the movie over? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go to sleep.”

“You two go get some rest. Kimball, you’re welcome to come anytime Wash does,” the redhead stands, hugging her former partner and shaking hands with the president, the others rising to say goodbye as well.

“Wash, principle Kimball, do you have to go?”

“Yeah, Caboose, we have to get back. We have lots of things to do tomorrow.”

“Oh. Are you making things better for everyone?”

“Yep, we’re working hard to do that.”

“I guess that’s okay then. Tell Smith I said hi.”

“We will.”

         Chorus, Hanger Bay Two

“You know, I had fun. It was good to see them again.” The relatively short pelican trip back to Chorus had been quiet, both absorbed in their thoughts.

“Did Lina interrogate you?”

“Yeah,” she laughs, “yeah, she did. But in all honesty, I did have a lot of fun.”

“So did I,” and there’s the blush again, Wash grateful that they are now in an abandoned hallway. “And, um,” he laughs, stumbling over his words, “you’re a good girlfriend.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, honey.” The pair laugh, shoulders bumping into each other as they make their way towards her room. “I wonder what they’re going to say when they find out it was fake.”

“Yeah…”

“You okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“What’s going on Washington? You had that tone of voice you always get when I know you’re thinking too hard.”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about what you said. About their reactions.”

“Want to share?”

“What if…” he takes a deep breath as they come to stop in front of her door. “What if it wasn’t fake? I enjoyed getting to be your boyfriend for the evening, and I’ve had feelings stronger than friendship for a while now. If you don’t have the sa-”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” 

“Of course, I understand,” the dark-haired woman nearly flinches at the hurt evident in his eyes despite the measures taken to hide it, “goodnight President Kimball.” 

“You didn’t let me finish.” She steps forward, grabbing his wrist gently to keep him from moving any further away. “I’m a forward woman, have been my whole life, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t enjoyed myself like I did tonight in a long time. I like you a lot, David. You’re the closest friend I’ve had in a long time, and I would enjoy exploring our feelings together.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Cause honestly, after having done this, I’m not sure how I could keep from doing it again.” Wash cups the shorter woman’s face in his hands, gently pulling her up to meet his lips in a firm yet gentle kiss.

“You know, I believe I slept the best I have in a long time during the movie tonight; it was rather nice feeling secure in somebody else’s arms. Would you like to stay with me?”

“Only if you’re absolutely sure.” 

“I’m very sure.”

“Then I accept.” He smiles, kissing her again as she meets him in the middle this time, blindly punching her key code into the pad and opening the door.

“Goodnight, ‘Nessa,” the blond whispers into her ear fifteen minutes later, one arm draped over her waist, the other tucked under her neck, legs tangled together.

“Goodnight.”

[sketching-shark]

I think it's the ironic fact that JTTW fans already know how DBK and Sun Wukong's friendship broke apart but are more curious on LMK versions of Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque were friends alongside falling out.

HA! Well, while it often does seem that way, I'm going to go ahead and be a complete snob in a Journey to the West purist kind of way by wondering how many Six Eared Macaque fans would consider themselves more JTTW fans or more Monkie Kid fans, or if they feel they're a mix of both...

I've seen a lot of people argue that these two works of fiction are their own thing and that as such Monkie Kid (and associated fanworks) shouldn't be expected to follow the canon of JTTW, and fair enough for some parts. I've also, however, seen people who argue for this complete separation seeming to use it as an excuse to not acknowledge or learn about ANY original aspects of characters such as Sun Wukong and the Demon Bull King, or even very important deities such as Guanyin and the Jade Emperor, and who as such end up making some pretty gross generalizations/assumptions about them even though they are of great religious and cultural importance.

For example (and while I know a lot of the fun people get from fan works is in exaggerating certain traits), Sun Wukong seems to often be presented with an "inherently" evil/thoughtless/chaotic character, while his intelligence, deep love of his family, genuine efforts to become a better person, & many acts of saving lives, as presented in JTTW, aren't even mentioned. I feel like a lot of this is due to the way he acts in Monkie Kid (while I maintain that this version of Sun Wukong seems to be Bad End Monkey King, he does do a lot of deflecting his issues with a show of humor/a carefree attitude & does seem really bad at communicating due to a fear of making things worse). Even so, the popularity of Thoughtless/Evil/Selfish Sun Wukong that doesn’t really allow for any of the nuance or a display of his beneficial traits as shown in JTTW does make me wonder how many people have been exposed to a good translation of og classic Sun Wukong...As I've said before, I've noted that a number of Chinese people on this site have expressed frustration with the fact that a good chunk of the monkey king’s Western audience seems to be getting their impressions about Sun Wukong, the Demon Bull King, the Six Eared Macaque, etc. from some mix of Overly Sarcastic Productions, Monkie Kid, and social media instead of from at least a translation of the original text, and it is true that a LOT of the nuance of these work and these characters can be very easily lost, especially if your drawing your information of them primarily from a cartoony version of the original source. 

That would be an interesting poll though...out of curiosity, how many of you fine folk have read the break-up & fight between Sun Wukong and the Demon Bull King either in the original text or in a translation, or is your exposure to them primarily through Monkie Kid? 

Again, I need to make it clear that I'm not Chinese & didn't grow up with the story, but I will admit for my own part that reading the DBK/SWK break-up in the Yu translation actually made me more curious about how their dynamic is going to play out in Monkie Kid than I am curious about what's going to happen with Mr. Macaque. 

This is primarily because besides SWK’s fight with Princess Iron Fan and DBK being given a LOT of page space in JTTW, there seems to have been some serious stuff that went down between the three of them in the events post-JTTW and pre-the main plot of Monkie Kid...the last we see of DBK in JTTW (if memory serves correctly) was him being hauled off by a host of heavenly warriors to be judged for his crimes of not giving SWK the palm leaf fan & also eating humans. When Monkie Kid starts, however, we are told that DBK had emerged “from the Netherworld” & immediately starts wrecking everything around him. What this suggests--if Monkie Kid is something of a fan continuation of JTTW--is that DBK ended up being executed by the heavenly forces, but managed to fight his way out of the underworld in a manner somewhat similar to SWK, who we are told he is equal in strength to in JTTW. In that beginning fight of Monkie Kid DBK is also shown as so enraged that he won’t stop his path of destruction until SWK buries him under a mountain for 500 years. It’s never said in the show, but--and this is important--this is basically exactly what Buddha did to SWK to start him on the path of atonement. So there seems to be some very intentional parallels between SWK’s havoc in heaven & DBK’s havoc on earth, which may suggest that one of the things Monkie Kid SWK really wants is for his former dear friend, his sworn brother, to find a way like him to be less violent and thus ultimately less vulnerable to destructive and self-destructive behavior, and that the way he tried to start this was by giving DBK the same treatment he got when he was a raging warlord. 

We are furthermore told that it was right after DBK was sealed that SWK disappeared for all those centuries, and while the impulse may be to write it off as him just wanting to enjoy himself (given a lot of his behavior in the show’s timeline), given the indications that this SWK may be deeply depressed, I feel like the answer could be something a lot more tragic...there seem to be a number of clues in Monkie Kid that while the journey of JTTW happened, something made it end disastrously, with SWK either assuming or knowing that Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing, Tang Sanzang, and Bai Longma are dead. And per JTTW, this wouldn’t be the first time that he’s experienced a horrific loss, given the war with heaven and the burning of Flower-Fruit Mountain. And then right after THAT, it seems DBK emerged from the underworld, and so Sun Wukong was put into a horrific position: either murder his sworn brother, or let him continue to rampage & harm and/or kill who knows how many humans. SWK ultimately gives up his staff to do the repeat of “500 years under a mountain in solitary confinement route,” which as per JTTW he considers better than the alternative, but he immediately follows that by exiling himself. In JTTW SWK is a really sociable person who makes friends wherever he goes, but man, for this SWK...his life must at that point just feel like one failure after another, that in spite of all his best efforts he wasn’t able to save anyone he really cared about, and now he just trapped someone who was so important to him under a mountain & fated him to suffer the same things he had when he was in that position. How much more does he have to hurt his fellow yaoguai? How many more times does he have to choose between yaoguai and humans, feeling like no matter what he decides it’s just going to result in pain for him and/or his loved ones? I can easily imagine super sociable & easily upset (he cries a LOT in JTTW) SWK feeling like after sealing DBK, he just can’t do this any more. He just...can’t. 

This is all just speculation, but knowing the JTTW backstory between SWK and DBK does, at least for me, make their Monkie Kid relationship a lot more intriguing than it might be otherwise. Especially now that DBK seems to actually be making some small steps to quell his constant rage & lust for power. He even saves SWK and Qi Xiaotian from an explosion/nasty fall in the season 2 special! The Bull family weren’t really present in season 2, but I really hope they make a comeback in season 3 (if/when we get it) precisely because Red Son, Princess Iron Fan, and especially DBK have such an involved history with SWK. Plus it would be really fun to see two old warlords trying to awkwardly make amends with each other & struggle to be good teachers & positive role models to their student & son. 

In any case I feel this potential is more interesting than whatever fanfic The Six Eared “I’mma Plagiarize The Demon Bull King’s Backstory Of Being Best Friends with Sun Wukong” Macaque is creating lol. 

[sweetlangdon]

From Eden: Chapter 8

Notes: Michael Langdon x Reader/OC. Evil Power Couple fic. It’s difficult to write a summary for this one, because I don’t want to give away the twists. (It’ll also include canon rewrite/divergence for the later half of the season.) It has plenty of angst and fluff, and a bit of character study.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, murder, graphic violence. Very brief mention of suicidal thoughts. There’s a lot of angst in this chapter. 

Chapter One     Chapter Two    Chapter Three     Chapter Four    Chapter Five   Chapter Six      Chapter Seven     Also Available on AO3

The blood ritual at the Cortez had left her physically and emotionally drained—Michael had guided her home, both of them tripping on unsteady legs, their bodies heavy like they’d been weighed down with stones, feeling an exhaustion they couldn’t quite name. She hadn’t wanted to be alone, then. She didn’t know what to feel, how something could make her both so whole and powerful and yet so empty. Michael had been hesitant to leave her side, and she hadn’t even asked him to stay. He just knew.

“Don’t you need to get back to Hawthorne?” She peered up at Michael from where she’d curled around her pillow, watching him undo the elegant silver clasp of his cape. There were shadows under his eyes; he dragged a hand down his face, shoulders drooping as he let out a sigh. He looked as tired as she felt.

Michael left his cape across the chair in the far corner of her bedroom and went around to the other side of the bed, slipping off his shoes before he settled next to her. A moment later, the warmth of his presence lapped along her spine, his arm draped over her waist, tugging her into his chest. She dragged one of her arms out from under the pillow and laced her fingers between his, her thumb wandering over his knuckles and up his wrist. She felt Michael’s fatigued exhale against her back, the slightly anxious rhythm of his pulse against her fingers. He didn’t want to talk about it, but the ritual had left him shaken, too.

This time, she was absolutely certain that he’d pressed a kiss into her hair. “The only place I’m needed is right here.”

Her eyes fluttered closed. A few stray tears spilled down her cheeks and she tasted the salt on her lips. “I don’t want to get you into trouble, not so close to the test.”

Michael burrowed his face into the back of her shoulder, lithe fingers threading through her hair. She could fall asleep under the spell of his gentle hands. She had, before, many times over the course of their relationship. He pulled her closer, the warmth of his fingertips spreading across her hip. The scent of candle smoke and iron and whatever strong drink her father had shared at the Cortez lingered in her nose. The faint trace of sandalwood and jasmine that usually hung in her bedroom wasn’t powerful enough to suppress the echoes of their blood ritual.

“That doesn’t matter.” There was another deep exhale, but his pulse had slowed somewhat.

“Michael—”

“They won’t question my absence,” his voice was low, muffled into her shoulder. “And you’re far too important to me.” 

Michael’s fingers tightened around hers, and for a moment, if she closed her eyes, it seemed like they were just two kids in his bedroom with the rain tapping against the window. But she couldn’t pretend, couldn’t hold onto that illusion if she’d wanted to. Too much had changed since then.

Her lower lip trembled and made her voice shake. “I’m scared,” she confessed. “I’ve never been afraid like this before. Of…what we’re supposed to be doing. Of—”

“Afraid of me,” Michael murmured against her shoulder. It was so quiet she almost couldn’t hear it, but when she did, it was as if that damned ritual knife had torn right through her chest and stabbed her heart. She hadn’t missed the hitch in his breath, the tremor in his words.

“No.” She squeezed his hand, her fingers cold and numb from the lingering anxiety compared to his. “Never you.”

“If I had known about the ritual…”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured, softly. “I’m glad I didn’t have to go through that alone. It’s just…this is a lot to be okay with in such a short amount of time.”

She knew that the ritual would change her irrevocably, and it had, just not the way she’d envisioned. Maybe she’d been stupid to think that her immediate future would involve a lot more fire and brimstone, that maybe those pitch black eyes staring back at her would be permanent. She hadn’t recognized her own reflection in her father’s study, and she’d only seen Michael like that for a fleeting moment the night they’d burned down her aunt’s house. She’d always known there was something dark in her soul, but the knowledge that she wasn’t fully human—and half-demon, no less—had left her reeling.

“None of this has been easy for you.”

He shifted slightly, his chin digging into the crook of her shoulder, soft curls brushing the side of her neck and ear. The low rumble of his words resonated into her back, and that made her feel warmer and more whole than anything her father could’ve told her about where she’d come from.

“But there’s no one else,” He sounded so quiet and more terrified than he’d ever admit, that confident façade left behind at the doors to the Hawthorne School. This was the boy who’d always shared the truth with her and feared it leave him abandoned yet again. “I wouldn’t choose anyone except you to stand at my side in all of this. I don’t want anyone else.”

“I’m right here,” she whispered back to him. “I told you I’m not going anywhere. I promised you that.”

A promise was a promise. She had no intention of breaking it or leaving Michael’s side when there was nowhere else she’d belong. The fact was, neither of them could do this alone, and neither of them wanted to. They had little choice but shoulder the burden of their birthright together. And carry on.

***

Michael returned to Hawthorne in anticipation of completing the test of the Seven Wonders, and she went back to her mundane life of homework and avoiding her parents, a little envious of Michael’s unconventional education. She also hated being apart from him. But separated as they were, the increase in the strength of their combined power was almost immediately perceptible.

There had always been this invisible thread between them, a tether in the darkness, but now it had become more resilient, connecting them across great distances. A current of energy that let them know where the other was, and that they were forever bound. It was a comfort to her; gentle, whereas everything else about her newfound power was unwieldy and prone to give her headaches. Her father had unleashed Hell within her and hadn’t exactly given her any guidance on how to tame it for good use.

She hadn’t seen him since the Cortez and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

On the eve of the test, Miriam told her they had an errand to run for Michael. She’d been sitting at their tiny kitchen table, her fist propped under her chin, paging through the Book of Revelation. As if it would answer some things beneath all of that flowery language and prophecy. It certainly didn’t do a damn thing to ease the internal panic she’d concealed after her father had declared that she was supposed to be some kind of leader. Of legions. A soldier of the apocalypse she’d help create. Her father had had millennia to earn whatever rank he currently held, she was sure, and she was just a human with some demon blood whose primary concern right now was getting into the college of her choice.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she slid into the passenger seat of Miriam’s car.

It was late, nearing midnight, and she wondered what sort of errand they could’ve possibly needed to run at this hour. It definitely wasn’t just a drive up to the corner store. Late night trips in the Mead household usually entailed rituals of whispered Latin and sacrificial blood in some unfortunate soul’s backyard.

Miriam shoved the key into the ignition. “It’s best if you don’t ask a lot of questions. The less you know, the better.”

They meandered through empty back roads under a clear night sky, following a trail that Miriam apparently had picked up. She kept the window rolled down a little to let in the chilly air tinged with the scent of fresh cut grass and damp earth. It had rained sometime during the day; the headlights reflected off the slick asphalt and puddles still gathered in the roads as they broke through the shadows of the trees.

With the radio droning on softly in the background, and her attention out the window, her mind miles away, she nearly drifted off to sleep. The car slowed, gravel crackling under the wheels, when they inched closer to a gas station. It was bright, set deep into the wilderness without another soul around. Except for the car that had just pulled in.

“Get out,” Miriam whispered.

“What? Why?”

Miriam shot her a stern look, lips curving into a frown. The blinding white light from the gas station made her jet black hair look glossy. “Didn’t I tell you not to ask questions? Now, stay close, but stick to the shadows until I call for you. If for some reason this goes sideways, take the car and meet Michael outside Hawthorne. Last thing we need is for you to get yourself killed by a damn warlock.” Miriam reached over to the glove box and emerged with a kerchief, which she wrapped around her head and tied beneath her chin.

Her eyes went wide, her hand stilled on the door handle. “Wait, warlock? But—”

“Don’t you start. Go on, get.”

“Why don’t you just let me take care of it?” Her fingers curled around the handle, but she’d yet to make any real effort to budge the door open.

“With the way your powers have been acting? You set my curtains on fire two days ago.” In the dark of the car’s interior, Miriam’s eyebrow rose. She pursed her lips, and the glint in her eyes turned into something more sincere. “No, I can handle this. I’ve gotta protect my Devil babies.”

She had seriously misjudged Ms. Miriam Mead.

Hidden by the night that had enveloped the woods, she waited near the tree line with a clear view of Miriam’s car. A man was already leaning against the side of his own car at one of the pumps, arms crossed over his chest, when Miriam pulled up. From this distance, she couldn’t really see anything but his dark hair and sharp clothes and a distinct swagger. A warlock, Miriam had said. She wasn’t sure what his problem was, but if it was enough to have them out here in the middle of the night committing murder, then she guessed it had to be pretty fucking important.

Miriam engaged the warlock in some small talk, and he obliged to help her with putting gas into her car. She couldn’t hear the echoes of their conversation from so far across the road, but she knew Miriam had a disarming way of playing the part when she needed to. She waited, holding her breath, for a sign of a struggle. It didn’t come. Distracted, the warlock never saw Miriam take a swipe at his ankles until it was too late.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

The warlock collapsed onto the asphalt, a cry ricocheting off the trees. It would be a mess, she mused, even if she couldn’t see the way the blood had exploded from his broken flesh. Once the warlock was vulnerable, on his knees, crashing toward the ground, Miriam sliced the fragile skin of his throat. And she took that as her cue to break through the tree line, fists stuffed into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt as she dashed across the empty road.

Miriam exhaled a long-suffering noise when she reached her side. “What’d I tell you about staying put? That damned ritual give you selective hearing or something?”

She pushed up the hood of her sweatshirt. “Who was he?”

The warlock lay at their feet in a pool of crimson, polished black like ink on the pavement. There was still a weak gurgling sound as he choked on his own blood, his clothes stained with it, his handsome face coated with the spray from his neck. He stared up at nothing, pale blue eyes unseeing and lifeless.

“A threat.” Miriam pulled a box of matches from an inside pocket of her coat. “You go get in the car and I’ll clean up the mess.”

“I’m perfectly capable of cleaning up a mess,” she said. “You don’t have to do all the heavy lifting, you know.”

She held her hand out over the warlock’s body with her palm facing downward. Miriam’s hand shot out and smacked hers away, and she tried to level Miriam with a glare, her mouth opened in annoyed silence.

“At a gas station? Are you crazy?” Miriam whispered, though her voice wanted to edge into a shout. “None of this’ll matter if you blow both of us to pieces trying to clean up.”

“Thanks for your confidence.” She lifted an eyebrow.

“We don’t have time to—”

Before Miriam could protest any further, she held her hands over the warlock’s dead body where the blood was beginning to run into the puddles left from the rain. She drew from the well that had been offered to her, from the ancient, dark power that had coursed through her veins since her birth. The rush was enough to make her sway a little on her feet, but she kept a tight hold on it, willing it to manifest where she needed it. Her control was shaky at best, but she focused, directing just the right amount that hopefully would do the job and leave her and Miriam unharmed in the process.

Flames sprung up from the pavement around the warlock’s body, licking at his clothes until they ignited. The heat of the fire drifted upward to meet her outstretched palms, the orange glow tossing deep shadows across their faces. The barest trace of sulfur cut through the scent of blood and damp earth.

She felt Miriam’s hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go.” When she tore her eyes away from the body burning at their feet, Miriam was grinning. “Michael will be expecting us.”

 ***

Days later, there was an ache deep in her chest that she couldn’t explain. The acceptance letter that her parents barely acknowledged—even though they insisted on a university education with their newfound wealth; she wasn’t stupid, it was just means to get her out of their way—sat neglected in her bedroom. The ache evolved into a sharp pain, wrapping itself around her ribcage with claws and teeth and a strong, unbearable feeling that something was horribly wrong.

As much as she didn’t want to, she stifled the impulse to show up at Hawthorne. If she got herself caught, she knew it would only make the situation worse. Michael had already conquered the Seven Wonders with little difficulty. But her gut feelings were seldom incorrect. Something had happened. Every frantic call to Miriam’s house phone went unanswered, and her cell phone brought her straight to voicemail. She left a few panicked, slightly breathless messages before she finally pulled on a jacket and materialized outside of the house she’d come to consider more of a home than anywhere else in her life.

A home that was dark and unoccupied.

Streetlights filled the empty driveway with a dim orange glow. Her eyebrows pulled together, considering the darkened windows as she rounded the corner to the side doors. She tugged on a handle and found it locked, a realization that made the pain in her chest flare like a piercing stab wound. It would be no use to venture inside. Miriam wasn’t here, and it looked as though the house had been like this for some time. 

The radio silence from Miriam made her think the worst—she would never just disappear like this, never be so out of touch. The chances of her skipping town were unlikely, but she refused to dwell on the grimmest of all the possible outcomes. She felt guilty enough for not getting here sooner, for not knowing how to translate the dread that had coiled around her insides. For doubting Miriam’s care and love for both her and Michael. All of this power at her disposal and she had no idea how to use it to help the situation or follow Miriam’s trail. What good was she, then? It didn’t make her some great leader of prophecy, it just made her goddamn useless.

Maybe she would have to sneak into Hawthorne, after all.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets, exhaling loudly, tears welling in her eyes, wondering if the dread inside her was something more profound, like grief. 

A shape caught her periphery, a familiar ripple of power and light hitting her senses. She didn’t realize it was magic until it was too late.

The darkness swallowed her whole.

***

Four days.

Michael had stayed in this pentagram for four agonizing days, watching the sunlight move across the trees. Time seemed to slow down around him. He never counted the hours, left at the mercy of the passing sun overhead and the long shadows in the dirt. Except for the occasional birdsong and the rustle of leaves, there had been silence. Frustrating, resounding silence.

There was no one left. A hollow ache settled in his bones and gnawed at him with more violence than the hunger and thirst. His father had abandoned him, presumably because he’d already failed at the one thing he’d been put on this earth to do. He’d lost sight of his path and was now stumbling around in the dark once again, grasping at nothing. What was the point, now?

The acrid scent of burning flesh still clung to his nose like a ghost, his mind plagued by the images of his Ms. Mead charred beyond recognition. The grief that Michael could barely process since he’d dropped to his knees in this circle had numbed him; it came and went like the tide, stronger when the sun dipped below the horizon and the night’s quiet seemed more crushing. Sometimes, it had been accompanied by a fiery rage that he couldn’t contain, that left him exhausted from screaming into the forest until it felt as if he’d swallowed broken glass. In the moments when his fingertips had hovered over the burnt bodies, Michael thought that he’d lost them both to the witches.

And maybe he had. But they hadn’t set fire to her.

Four days and he couldn’t feel any sign of her. It was like the tether that bound them had inexplicably snapped, snuffing out the light that had helped to guide his path. Michael knew what her power was like, knew what it did when it mingled with his even when they were apart. The loss of her power was the least of his concerns, though—it was the absence of her that made his soul feel incomplete.

She was just…gone.

When he’d asked Cordelia Goode where she was, Michael had noticed the glint in her eye of an answer that she would not give. Whatever the witches had done, it had concealed her from him.

He was alone.

Michael knelt in the dirt, the clear, earthy scent of the forest unable to scrub away the odor of scorched flesh. He hunched over, elbows resting on top of his thighs with his face buried in his hands. The once carefully parted hair underneath his dirt-streaked fingers had become a greasy, unkempt mess. Stubble along his jawline prickled at his hands as he dragged them across his face to wipe away the fatigue. Michael’s formerly pristine clothes were now ragged and caked in filth, his appearance a testament to the past four days of aimless waiting.

A low, waning sun spilled golden rays over the dirt and stung at his tired and bloodshot eyes. Four days of catching a few minutes’ worth of sleep wherever he could manage them had done terrible things to his mind. The world spun around his head, in and out of focus. Michael could no longer tell what was real and what wasn’t. Had it really been just four days? How long would it take for him to waste away in this forest?

Michael’s fingers itched to conjure his knife. It was tempting—the thought of the blade kissing his skin so he could finally be at peace.

“Michael.”

He knew that voice. He’d know it anywhere.

The sound of it filled the air like a melody to his heavy, aching head, and he lifted his face from his palms in response, those dark and violent thoughts withering away with the breeze. There was something wrong in her voice, a dissonant note that made his blood run cold. When he finally turned around, the streaks of daylight, now burning orange as if it was fire across the dirt, caught the highlights in her dark hair and beads of scarlet running down her ashen lips.

“You left me.” Tears mingled with the blood dripping from her chin. Michael saw her hand clutched against her chest, the dirt at her feet pooling with deep crimson from a wound he couldn’t find, her fingers slick with bright red. “After everything,” her breath shuddered, gasping, “why would you leave me? How could you let them kill me?”

She staggered forward, approaching the circle. How had she found him, when he hadn’t even felt her presence in days? Michael caught her once her knees gave out, cradling her in his arms, fingers raking through her hair. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, trying to find the source of all the blood.

A tear slipped down the curve of his cheek just when he thought he’d had no more left in him.

“I never wanted this to happen.” Michael desperately searched for a wound that wasn’t there, a wound that he didn’t think he would be powerful enough to heal. Not yet, anyway. He tried to temper his sorrow with anger instead, but the pain burned white-hot through his chest as if he could feel her wound as his own. “We’ll kill them all, I swear it. They won’t get away with what they’ve done to you and our Ms. Mead. They won’t survive us, I promise you that.”

She reached up and touched her fingertips to his cheek, leaving bloody fingerprints behind. She was so pale, the scent of blood all around them, the warmth retreating from her even as he held her close.

“Michael,” she whispered again.

“It’s all my fault.” A trembling hand cradled her ashen face. “I…I failed you, too.”

An apology wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough for the feeling that carved its way through his ribcage like cold steel. Was there a name for it, the pain of having part of your soul ripped from you? A word for an emotion stronger than grief?

Michael gathered her to his chest when he felt her go still, his tears falling into her hair. “Don’t leave me like this…please…you’re all I have left…” He let her go to trace the fragile skin of her throat with his unsteady fingers. Her skin was cold to the touch, and no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer feel the once steady, strong rhythm of her pulse. She lay across his bent knees, unmoving, while he leaned over her.

Michael sobbed and pressed his forehead to hers. “I can’t lose you.”

He held her, dragging his fingers through her hair and sobbing her name until the illusion finally broke—her lifeless body vanishing in the next instant. The last of Michael’s sobs faded and he lifted his tear-stained face from his now empty hands.

All of it had seemed so frighteningly real—she had felt so real.

But it was just another cruel trick.  

Where are you?

@lastregasolitaria @mylippo @zeciex @lvngdvns @langdonsdemon @yourkingcodyfern @sojournmichael @gabnelson98 @rainbowrosesjas @antichristlangdxn @keavysmithxoxo @artistlunadrayne @codysfallenangels @batgirlbride @mileeyyowens @dead-witch-boy @boofy1998 @gentianea @cryptid-coalition @langdonsrapture @kinlovecody @yuriohoe04 @electricurie @marvel-rpdr-and-ahs @gallxntdean @langdonscurls @jcshadowkiss-blog @frozenhuntress67 @sebastianshoe @dixmond-taurus @bookobssesed99 @sassylangdon @queenie435 @holylangdon @langdonfern @toofreakingbisexual @angsty-otters-blog @denaexr  @mr-langdonn @micheallangdons @lostin-fern @crazedcatcuddler @satansapostle @monsucre @ritualmichael @fernshorrorstory @queencocoakimmie @bluelancesredswords @theharvestgirloffire @punkysouls @sevenwondr  @zoebensvn @kylosbabe @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Min Skatt, a The Swede x Reader Smutfic [18+]

Summary: The Swede is an unpleasant man, who has been tormenting and extorting your brother over rent money. You hate him. But oh no, he's hot.

Min skatt - Norwegian, meaning "my treasure," or alternatively, "my tax." You know Thor means it in the tax sense. He loves you like he loves accounting spreadsheets. 

Thor Gundersen is, without a doubt, an evil man. He exudes an unnatural calmness as he walks from the tavern tent back to the caboose car that served as his office and lodging, almost floating as he went, so little did he make any extraneous movements or expressions. In his long, black coat and pale skin, glowing even paler in the moonlight, he was a spectre of death. Your heart races as you watch him, keeping just out of sight.

You came to Hell on Wheels a few weeks ago at your brother’s invitation, to help him run his shop. He sold gear to the railroad workers—mainly boots and gloves, which were always wearing out, and various everyday wares. The letter he sent flatteringly wrote of your skill for mending, tailoring, and tracking inventory as the reasons he wanted you to come work with him, but you suspected it was more likely he had gambled all his profits away and was looking for an employee he wouldn’t have to pay.

These suspicions were confirmed nearly the moment you stepped off the train.

You found your brother’s tent, with your brother on the floor, and a tall stranger in the act of beating him. Your brother met your eyes and beamed with relief.

“Now, if you’ll hold on, Mr. Swede—if you’ll just turn around, you’ll see my kin has come with the money you’re owed, just as I promised!”

“Excuse me? I thought I came here so you could give me a job.”

The tall man gave your brother a final kick in the side, doubling him over in pain, and turned to face you with an obsequious smirk. “So you're the mysterious sibling?I was beginning to think you was a mere fiction to delay my payment, yes?” His sharp, intelligent eyes looked you up and down, as if examining a piece of merchandise. You feel hot under his gaze.

“Unfortunately, we are related.” Your fists clenched, “Now leave him the hell alone.”

“I will, as soon as I get what I am owed.”

“And who are you, exactly?”

“Just give him the money!” your brother coughed. You shot back a glare.

“I am head of security in this camp.”

“Of course you are,” you groaned. “That’s the way the world always is, isn’t it?—the fox guarding the henhouse.”

He growled under his breath. “I keep order for Mr. Durant. How I maintain that order not your concern. Ah, but we have not been properly introduced. They call me the Swede. Thor Gundersen.”

“So that accent’s Swedish?”

“I am from Norway, but no matter.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. The Norwegian.”

He smiled at this. You told him your name. He repeated it, rolling it over his tongue in a sensuous purr that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“How much does he owe you?”

“Six dollars, plus interest.”

Your stomach dropped. That was nearly all the money you had. “I see. Well, you can continue hitting him, then.” You turned as if to leave.

The Swede chuckled, eyes glinting wickedly.

“Please, you can’t leave me like this! Think of mom!” your brother pleaded.

He was right. You couldn’t. Irresponsible as he was, he was family. And just like that, you were handing over your meager savings to some greasy-haired Scandinavian crook. As the bills passed from your hands to his, any allure you may have felt toward him was replaced by a cold, growing hatred, returned only by an equally cold smile. This was a calculator, not a man with a beating heart.

That was why you started watching him. Because he was dangerous, and somebody needed to keep tabs on him. That’s what you told yourself.

But every time you saw him, you couldn’t stop the excited tingling in your chest, no matter how hard you tried. Even when he returned to your brother’s shop each week to collect his toll, you looked forward to seeing his face—to your brief banter, his sharp wit, eventual threats, and ultimately, theft of your profits (and some merchandise, insolently plucked from the shelf as he exited). Somehow, every wicked thing he did only made him more charming.

Perhaps it was the way he always levied his threats against your brother, but tipped his hat politely to you. Being treated (relatively) kindly by a man who hated everyone made you wonder what he found so special about you. Or was his favor simply because you were the only person in camp to call him Norwegian?

One evening while you were spying him, you overheard him mention that he had been a prisoner of war in Andersonville, where he nearly died from starvation. Learning this softened your opinion of him even more. It broke your heart to think of him being so badly mistreated—despite his intimidating height, he was thin and fragile. Even those eyes, which had seemed emotionless, you now saw held the pain of what he couldn’t forget. Who was he before that experience? What sort of meek bookkeeper might he have been before cruelty hardened him? You wanted to meet that man. You wanted to hold him in your arms and protect him.

The tingling in your chest was becoming a fire.

Tonight, in the night air, you follow him. You trail him from the tavern all the way back to his caboose car, your heart pounding, blood singing in your ear, and open the door.

He stands in front of his accounting desk, wearing a look of surprise at your unannounced entrance.

“What is this?”

You can’t answer. You aren’t even sure what you’re doing. You want him. You need to touch him. The desire burns within you, overpowering any other thought.

“This is my private quarters. I ain’t hearing complaints tonight about how I handle debtors; take it up in the morning.”

“My brother and his dealings with you have nothing to do with this. This visit is of a personal nature.”

“Well?”

“I want you to court me,” you blurt out.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, if you want. Or I could… court you? If that’s proper? I… I would like to… initiate an amorous relationship… with you. If you’re interested.”

His head cocks to the side, and he stares as if you’ve gone mad. Then, with an, “Ah,” he chuckles. “A noble effort, but I'm afraid you won't pay off your brother's debts whoring yourself. It is not a form of currency I accept.”

Your cheeks blaze. “THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT! I just...” You take a step toward him and are reminded how very tall he is, “...have feelings for you. Unfortunately.”

His lips press together in a thin line and his eyes narrow. “Now that seems unlikely. What is this, then? Are you here to distract me, hmm? Let me guess—your brother sneaking around back now to catch me off guard for some sort of revenge?” he goes to the window and looks around, finding nothing. “No matter. I will figure it out.”

You heave a great, frustrated sigh. “Here!” you take his hand and press it to your throat. “Feel my pulse racing? I couldn’t fake that excitement. I am freaking out because I’m confessing my feelings.”

“Perhaps you are a nervous liar.”

“Oh, goddamn you.”

But he doesn’t remove his hand. It lingers there, warm and intimate. His thumb strokes the side of your neck, under your ear, and his eyes examine you with curiosity. You move even closer, shuddering with satisfaction as your bodies touch. His hand begins to travel downward. He reaches under your collar, and you gasp as he teases a nipple between his fingers. You weren’t expecting things to move this fast, but you don’t want him to stop. Swallowing hard, you help him undo your top, so it hangs open suggestively. He begins to kiss down your neck, sending shivers coursing down your spine, until his mouth finds your other nipple, and begins lightly tracing his tongue over it. You moan, and lean helplessly back against his desk, melting. You grab his head and hold him where you want him. “Harder,” you whisper.

“Demanding, hmm?” he sucks harder, giving you a nip that makes you cry out.

You find the bulge straining against the front of his pants and rub your palm against it through the fabric. He takes in a sharp breath, moving his hips with you for a fleeting moment, then pulls away from you, straightening up.

“Take your clothes off,” he orders, unfastening his collar. You obey.

Except for removing his vest and loosening his shirt, he doesn’t follow suit, and you feel exposed standing in this tightly enclosed rail car, naked, with his blue eyes observing every inch of your body. It’s almost like he’s looking at one of his accounting sheets, the way he stares, simultaneously cold and enraptured.

He pushes you back against the wall and kneels between your legs, his tongue cool against your hot skin, teasing you with light kisses everywhere but the place you yearn for it. You whimper, shifting your hips to get his mouth where you want, but the more you struggle, the farther he drifts. An impish smile stretches the corner of his lips.

Then all at once, his mouth closes over your arousal, swirling and circling his tongue around the sensitive cluster of nerve endings, licking and sucking it. You moan, letting the wall take your weight as you melt. You start rocking your hips into him, creating a rhythm, getting him to go deeper, but he grabs your thighs and pins them against the wall. The message is clear—he is in control. Even on his knees beneath you, he is not showing submission. He just wanted to taste you, to make you writhe under his tongue.

Being so helpless sends a chill of adrenaline through your body—wanting to squirm, wanting to direct him, but being completely at the mercy of the next warm flick of his tongue, and the nodding of his head between your legs. He starts to go faster, slipping a finger inside you, moving it in and out, in and out, spreading warmth through your lower body until your breathing is ragged and you are nearing your breaking point.

“Please… don’t stop,” you beg. “Faster...”

“Naughty, naughty… not so fast. You will finish when I tell you… when I decide you has earned it.”

“Nooo!” You buck your hips into him with a desperate whine, but he’s already pulled away. You walked through his door still holding onto some semblance of pride, but now you just wanted him more than anything. “How do I earn it?”

He licks his lips, grinning salaciously, wiping off the excess saliva on his sleeve cuff. He flips you, roughly pressing you up against the wood-slat walls, and you feel him unbuttoning his pants behind you. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance. “Let me fuck you, hmm?”

You nod eagerly.

He pushes inside, opening you, then pulls back, and pushes inside again, deeper this time. He’s much more gentle, careful, than you imagined. You can hear his steady breath shake with every inch gained, massaging your opening with shallow thrusts of his cock, reading in the tightness of your walls and the arching of your back when you’re prepared to take more of him, until finally his full length is buried inside you.

He pulls out one last time, and plunges inside you hard and sets a sharp, precise rhythm. You cry out at the sudden roughness, and you want more, rocking your hips to accentuate his pounding into you. His hand closes around your neck, thumb feeling the racing pulse that pounds in your ears. He leans over you, nipping your earlobe, shoulders, and the back of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. His long fingers creep up over your jaw and brush against your lips. A finger slips inside your mouth. You suck it, moaning as it gently explores your tongue.

“You want to come?” he asks, sounding less in control now, despite efforts to mask his hitched breathing.

“Please… please…”

He reaches between your legs and strokes your tender, throbbing flesh, which explodes in sensation at his touch. His hands seem to know exactly what you need to reach climax, now that he’s done holding back, and his persistent rhythm, coupled with the quickening thrusts of his hard length, filling and stretching you, brings you closer to the edge with each motion. His once-clockwork pace grows more frantic, desperate, slamming you into the wall until the car begins to shake, and you scream out. Surges of warmth radiate from the friction between you through your whole body, and even he loses control of his voice, letting out a passionate moan with every thrust, until he bites down hard on your shoulder, and you come, spasming and contracting around his impossibly hard cock. He plunges one last time as deep as he can go, and holds deep inside you, the rippling contractions of your orgasm milking every drop of seed from him, filling you with his warmth.

You pant together, sticky and spent, holding each other for a brief, tender moment. Then he pulls out quickly, without intimacy, and hurriedly crosses the room to fetch a couple of handkerchiefs from a drawer. “Don’t move!” he barks across the car. “Don’t drip on my floor.”

Your cheeks get hot as you become acutely aware of the fluids dribbling down your leg. “Hey, most of this is yours, you know!”

When he returns to hand you the rag, your eyes meet. He looks strangely stunned by you, as if suddenly realizing what just happened. His face is flushed and out of breath, and for once, he has no snarky quips. (It’s hard to remain composed when you’re standing with a handkerchief over your genitals in front of someone you barely know and just fucked.) He lowers his eyes shyly, but this only results in him looking at your naked body again. It’s adorable. You grab his face and pull him into a hard kiss. He wraps his arms around you, and kisses you back.

“Thank you for that,” you whisper when you finally separate, still close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and your foreheads touching.

“It was my pleasure.”

“Well then, Mr. Norwegian… Mr. Gundersen, um… Thor. Do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?”

“My schedule is open, min skatt,” he smiles.

[accursedvoid]

APOCRYPHA VERSE / FFXV AU

ooooo boi i had to fight anxiety to stop lurking but here we go ! In this au there were actually 10 astrals - the six we know and then the four who kept a delicate balance and were generally passive force of nature, only meddling very rarely - while the six were more proactive in contrast.

These four are as follows

Letum - Death, souls and dreams - commonly associated with the colours of black, gold and grey, alongside the usual imagery of death - takes the form of a Huge Black feline decorated with golden markings and pupiless eyes, has pitch black branching antlers, a skeletal tail and gifted with two-three sets of feathered wings, feathers decorate his shoulders and heels.

Aether - Life, Time and Memory - the colours of autumn, often pictured as a Wolf or canine like creature with multiple tails, striped like a tiger, has the front paws of a dragon and the mane of a lion, two sets of pointed ears - now bears a massive scar across her face from where the Betrayer blinded her (as well as looking quite sickly now after the scourge has damaged Eos for so long).

Angelus - Light and Order - Pure bright white, he's hard to look directly at sometimes and in certain light his crystalline form shimmers like the colours of a water opal. Takes the form of an actual dragon (western styled), has five wings and His horns curve to look like a halo, two pairs of forelimbs, looks rather delicate - eyes are bright pupiless white of which he has two, spine is lined with delicate fronds and decorated with tiny gems.

Pandaemonium (a coincidence since apparently there is a summon called such i think?) - Dark and Chaos - Vantablack and Purple-pink, where Angelus is a dragon Pandae is more of a huge Gryphon-esque depiction with trifold pupiless eyes, has one set of wings but they branch into looking like more and carry an almost viscous liquid movement to them, lower body of a snake, upper body of a Gryphon, the fangs of a snake, great horns that curve upwards from the sides.

They can all take a humanoid form (or possibly choose to have 'avatars' if needs must).

---

anyway, so in this AU the Astral war happens (many minor astrals die etc) and because of Ifrit, Bahamut grows paranoid so when the starscourge inevitably arrives via meteor, Bahamut initially places the blame on Pandaemonium given what her spheres are and the ties it might have with the parasite (and the mistaken Belief that dark=evil) so what does he do? well he puts a stop to what he thinks is the cause - with the help of Shiva.

you can't kill the dark - but he definitely tried his best, Pandaemonium's heart lies shattered and this was the mistake because the starscourge wasn't the deadliest plague it became in canon - not yet.

because it absorbs those shattered fragments - and gains it's own brand of sentience - and now the starscourge is Pandaemonium or at least what is left of her - her rage, hatred, agony and base instincts, for revenge most of all, that remain in those fragments of her heart.

(incidentally Ardyn is less a collection of multiple Daemons here but rather the largest concentration of Pandaemonium's shattered fragments - so somewhat unknowingly her avatar, to at least whats left of her)

of course this doesn't go without notice - three of four hunt down the draconian (how dare he, how dare he) but by this point he has convinced the other three of the six (read: strong-armed mostly) and so the fight is a lot more one sided despite best efforts.

Angelus' heart is taken and chained to War (The Light is needed, but it will be by his will alone and so the white dragon's power is chained and his broken form imprisoned) - Aether is blinded, her godly form broken and left to fled to Eos - and Letum cannot die, but his heart is ripped from his chest and he is forced to slumber to recuperate.

(said heart will one day be gifted to a line of kings for Bahamut’s grand plan - for what else would drain the life and imprison the souls of the dead than the heart of Death himself)

incidentally given the spheres of influence - Carbuncle, Umbra and Pryna might end up as messengers for the four instead (specifically carbuncle to maybe Letum whilst Umbra and Pryna would be Aether most Likely)

So Letum wakes from his slumber sometime in canon era (possibly when Bahamut told Regis Noctis was to be the chosen king or if we go for shock value, at the treaty, where luminous golden eyes blink open in the shadows before the signing and everything goes sideways) and sees whats become of the everything and decides to step in, for the good of Eos.

Bahamut has hurt him and his greatly, has all but destroyed Pandaemonium, has chained Angelus and wounded Aether - stolen and enslaved his own heart to trap the souls meant for rest to power what will be his end goal - the scales of balance are so far out of alignment that the world is suffering for it and this false prophecy will doom it.

to say Letum is displeased is an understatement

and well, Bahamut might have had this line of kings swear by him - but they swore on his heart first.

Bahamut wishes to gamble away lives? - then Letum will take them gladly, tough luck, they are his now, his children of his heart.

screw you god of war - Death says not today.

I’d like to say this is due to y’all in the FFXV AU server and @sparklecryptid for initially dragging me into this fandom through haplessly stumbling upon your stuff and a horde of quality AUs and writers.

and also @hamelin-born @starofthemourning @starsilvereld @yezielmoore for yelling in the discord about this AU with me, which hopefully I’ll have those notes up soon for here too - including the brief overall on why in this verse the prophecy is the worst outcome ™ and Bahamut basically panicked, made everything worse and is now trying to cover for himself.

[cerillosvillage]

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Ten: The Enemy Guns

So let the enemy guns/ Cut me to ribbons/ For my eternal soul/ Will know the way back home

Warning: Animal death

The dust storm overtook Glyph while she was still a few miles out from the village. It was of course a problem, but she'd weathered worse. She pulled up a bandana up over her face and pulled the brim of her hat down, pressing her horse onwards.

The dust only got worse as they went, turning the world into a solid wall of brown. Visibility fell to nothing - she could only barely see her own hands in front of her face. She pulled on the reigns and stopped her horse, concerned now for its eyes. She dismounted, squinting in the dim light to try to find a rock or set of ruins to take shelter behind.

There seemed to be a shape in the dust, something tall - possibly a tree, possibly the remains of a chimney. Glyph had to weigh her options. Stay where she was and wait for the dust to pass, or head for possible shelter. She wanted to get some sort of protection from the storm, but was afraid of going off course or of her horse stepping into an animal hole and breaking its leg in the reduced visibility.

As she thought, she'd turned towards her horse's body, and when she looked up again she jumped. The shape was closer now, bigger, darker. It moved through the flying sand, coming closer to her. A person? Seemed awfully tall for a person.

"Hey!" Glyph yelled, though the sound was muffled by her bandana. There was no response. The shape got ever closer, slowly becoming more defined.

It looked like a person at a glance. Had roughly the right shape. But the proportions were wrong, the legs far too long and the arms… was she seeing double? Or triple, rather? She could've sworn she saw six arms lift up to the sides of the figure.

Her first thought was of Elyakim and his monsters. Her second was of the revolver on her hip. She unclipped her holster, taking hold of the grip. She wasn't sure what good the gun would do in this weather, though. It might get clogged with dirt and refuse to fire. Still, just having the thing in her hand made her feel better.

To her relief, the dust seemed to be lifting. Almost as if the figure were driving it away. That was a cold comfort, though, as she could now see the figure more clearly. It was tall, humanoid, with massive horns like an ibex and, yes, six arms.

And a sword that glinted in the beams of sunlight that broke through the storm.

Glyph was in the process of unholstering her gun and shouting a warning when a horrible shriek sounded right next to her ear. She reacted just in time to avoid her horse's front hooves kicking out as it reared up, screaming in fear. She grabbed for the reigns, managing to catch them just as a dull thump cut off the animal's cries. The thump was followed by a sickening squelch and something hot and sticky streamed over Glyph's arm. The horse staggered, and would've pulled Glyph down with it if she hadn't thought to let go of the reigns.

It collapsed on the ground, blood gushing from its neck, seeping into the sandy ground. Blood covered Glyph's arm as well.

Glyph swore, then swore again as she felt a blade whizz through the air just next to her face. The six-armed figure was right there in front of her, swinging its gleaming, razor-sharp sword at her. She ducked and rolled, focusing first on just getting away from the thing. The figure spun, pirouetting like a dancer, thrusting its blade at her again.

Glyph managed to get her gun out, aimed as best as she could, and pulled the trigger. She pulled it again. Again. Three bullets sank into the figure's abdomen, and it paused for just a moment, cocking its head to the side like a curious animal.

There were no wounds. No bullet holes. It did not bleed. It just absorbed the metal into itself.

And again it swung its sword.

Glyph ducked, but she wasn't used to fencing. She didn't know what she was doing. The tip of the blade managed to just graze the exposed flesh just between her eye and her bandana, and blood gushed down the side of her face.

She rolled away again, springing up as quickly as she could, aiming her gun at the figure's sword instead of its body. She fired one round.

The bullet caught the sword at the hilt, knocking the weapon out of the figure's hand. Glyph dived forward, snatching up the blade, holding it in her left hand, the gun in her right. She climbed to her feet, holding both in front of her, not sure how exactly to proceed but grateful at least that she had managed to get the upper hand.

Or so she thought.

That feeling of triumph didn't last long.

The figure turned to face her, holding out a hand. Dust from the air around them came towards it like insects in a swarm, forming into a long, narrow shape. More dust packed onto it, becoming more solid. Then it glowed white-hot.

This all took only a few seconds. And there it was - another sword, just as sharp as the one Glyph held.

The figure swung its blade down. Glyph did her best to knock it aside, but with no training in bladed weapons, she reacted too late. The tip of the figure's blade sunk into her shoulder and she cried out.

Acting purely on instinct, she raised her gun and fired her remaining two shots at the thing's head.

Fat lot of good that did. The figure didn't even react this time, just pulled the blade out of Glyph's arm and raised it again.

Glyph dropped her gun and passed the sword to her good arm. She struggled up to her feet and, with a shout, lurched forward, plunging the sword into the figure's abdomen. Again it paused, tilting its head as if confused.

That was all Glyph needed. Just a moment of hesitation on its part. She yanked the sword out, then turned and began to run. The dust got thicker around her, and she blindly stumbled forward, debris slicing the exposed skin around her eyes.

Pain blossomed across her back and she fell to the ground. Her shoulders felt warm, something trickled down between her shoulder blades. She didn't need to check to see - she knew she'd been struck. But if there was one thing she wasn't going to do, it was giving up and waiting to be done in. She reached out with her good arm, grabbing at the hard ground, pulling herself forward. She didn't know where the figure was, it was so quiet. She only knew she had to keep moving. She had to get away.

And then she heard a sound. The scraping of metal on metal. A scuffle of feet on the desert ground. A loud, masculine grunt, and then more clanging metal.

Then there was an arm around her middle, hefting her to her feet.

She didn't know who had taken hold of her, or where they were going, but she let them drag her along, just barely managing to get her feet under her.

They ran. And ran. Slowly, the sky got lighter. The dust got thinner. And suddenly, they were clear of the dust storm.

There was a horse tethered to a spindly dead shrub a little ways ahead. Her savior dragged her to it, helping her up onto the saddle. She left bloody handprints on its pale coat.

Her savior came around the front of the horse to untether it, and she finally got a clear look at him. It was Cinna, the tanned, blond patrolman. Or was he still a patrolman? She hadn't kept up with his role in the village after the Cerillos had reclaimed the place.

Cinna said nothing, just climbed up on the horse behind her. He threaded his arms under hers and took hold of the reigns, spurring the animal forward.

He kept the horse running as fast as it could until they crossed into the fields that covered the plateau above the canyon. A few figures spotted him and ran forward. Glyph was dizzy from the lost of blood, and couldn't focus on what they were saying as they pulled her down from the saddle. The world swam, then went dark.

She awoke indoors, laying on a sheepskin, wrapped in bandages, and facing the wall. She groaned and turned over. She immediately regretted doing so. Her back burned with pain. She tried to lay on her other side, but her injured shoulder protested. Unsure what else to do, she sat up with great effort.

Cinna sat on a bench on the other side of the room. He looked up when he saw her sit. He quickly climbed to his feet and poked his head out of the door, quietly talking to someone outside.

Magdalena, the short, sturdy leader of the Cerillos, stepped inside. Glyph was glad to see her - she liked the woman. She was soft, but tenacious, and showed incredible strength of character after her village on the plains had been destroyed.

Glyph was less pleased to see the second person step into the room.

Ajra. Her grandmother. An evil, abusive woman if there ever was one.

"Get out," Glyph hissed through clenched teeth.

Ajra paused, glancing at Magdalena. That was odd. Glyph had never known Ajra to defer to anyone else.

"Glyph," the village leader said gently, "can you tell us what happened?"

"Only if she gets out," she nodded at her grandmother.

Ajra and Magdalena shared a look. Again Ajra paused, but then she made a huffing noise, turned, and left.

Magdalena came to sit next to Glyph. Cinna followed suit.

"Glyph," she said, "it's important that you tell us what happened. Cinna did not see everything."

"There was something out there in the dust storm," Glyph said. "I didn't get that great a look at it, but I think it may have been one of Elyakim's angels. It was like them - tall, almost human, but with lots of arms and these big long horns. And swords."

Magdalena nodded. "Was there anything else you noticed?"

"Not really, I was too busy trying to get away from it. Although -- it seemed like it was controlling the storm."

Magdalena lifted a hand to her chin, running her thumb over her lower lip. She seemed deep in thought.

"I need to talk to RedRock," she said after a moment, though Glyph had no idea why a storyteller had any bearing on the situation.

"Cinna, would you stay with Glyph?"

"Of course."

At that, the woman got to her feet and was out the door. Glyph had questions, certainly, but Cinna was helping her back down onto her side and was applying a soothing-smelling poultice to her back. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out, but she realized now that she still felt heavy with exhaustion, and let her eyes close. Just to rest them.