#sorry for the delay - work has been CHAOS

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Eight: The Yao Guai's Visit

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: The two of you seek shelter for the night, enjoying a brief moment of domesticity before a glowing yao guai stalks through. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventually more smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.7k

The two of you manage to find a ramshackle of a home. Sure, half the roof is missing and there’s a gross amount of radroaches but it feels like a haven compared to the risk of sleeping out in the open. Without wasting time, both of you start working - getting rid of the pests and settling into your newfound shelter.

While he gets a fire going in the more open area of the tiny dwelling, you sit on the floor, rummaging through your bag, contemplating what meal to prepare. You had discovered a few packaged meals like Blamco Mac and Cheese, Cram, and InstaMash from the Super Duper Mart. After a bit of consideration, you decide on Cram mac and cheese for tonight's dinner. You can't help but wonder, though - does he still have his taste buds? It's possible for some ghouls to retain some sense of taste. However, if he's been like this for two centuries, it's highly likely that his taste buds may have deteriorated.

You're grateful that those so-called sheriffs didn't confiscate your weapons or any items from your bag. Although you rarely use the pip-boy nowadays, it's handy for monitoring your health status and checking possibly high radiation levels in new areas. Seeing you fiddle with the device, the Ghoul decides to join you, taking a seat beside you as the fire roars into a steady blaze.

“Keep that on you. It will notify us if there’s any sizable mutants nearby.” He commands.

"Aye, aye captain," you half-heartedly salute him as you secure the pip-boy onto your wrist with a click.

Getting up, you make your way to what remains of the kitchen area and start rummaging for any cookware. After some searching, you find a decently sized pot, fill it with a carton of somewhat purified water from your bag, and position it over the fire. As you begin preparing the meal, The Ghoul silently observes, watching as you cut up the Cram into bite-sized pieces and add the macaroni pasta into the now boiling water. There was something so domestic about the whole thing, a rare moment of nostalgia washes over him, reminding him of a time when such simple comforts were more than just a distant dream.

After some time passes, you manage to create a modest dinner for the two of you. The effort you put into the meal is a bit surprising, but it's a welcome change from the usual scavenged scraps. The scent of the food wafting through the air adds a touch of comfort to the desolate surroundings.

"It’s too bad you can’t smell this," you joke as you hand him a serving with a bent spoon and an intact bowl you found. "I’m hoping you can at least somewhat taste it?"

With a glare, he quickly devours everything in the bowl before setting it down, offering a nod in your direction. He then leans against the nearby wall, the weight of the day's chaos settling between you. The silence that follows is a welcomed break, allowing you both to catch your breath and collect your thoughts. But as the quiet lingers, the unanswered questions from the day's events weigh heavily on your mind.

"What did that guy mean when he said you’re still looking for her?" you ask quietly, taking a bite of food.

"None of your damn business, Smoothie," he retorts, his tone sharp and guarded.

"Is it a wife or somethin'?" you press, unable to shake off your curiosity.

"If you don’t drop the subject, then I will shoot you," he warns, pulling his hat down to cover his eyes. Just as you're about to argue, the geiger counter on your pip-boy starts going off, the sound cutting through the tense atmosphere. The Ghoul looks up at you, alarmed, and rushes to put out the fire. As you stand up and look around for any sign of what could be causing the disturbance, you feel a sudden grip on your arm as he pulls you towards the wall, pressing you against it and covering your mouth with one of his hands.

“Shut the damn thing off,” he whispers urgently to you. You hastily flick through the device and manage to turn off the geiger counter, the sudden silence amplifying the tension in the room.

As you stand frozen against the wall, a hand tightly gripping your waist and another muffling your frightened gasps, he silences you with a shushing motion. The sound of a deep, rumbling growl resonates ominously from the other side of the wall, causing your heart to pound with such intensity that you fear the creature on the other side will hear it.

Desperate for any distraction, your eyes dart towards the nearby window, revealing a glowing yao guai leisurely strolling around the building. His gaze locks onto you, his eyes filled with intensity, as if he can sense the frantic rhythm of your racing pulse beneath your skin. His touch momentarily rubs circle on your waist, but he withdraws abruptly, as though realizing the inappropriateness of the gesture.

Gradually, the footsteps of the yao guai fade into the distance. The Ghoul slowly removes his hand from your mouth, and for a few lingering moments, the two of you simply gaze into each other's eyes. Overwhelmed by a surge of unexpected courage, you reach out and gently caress his cheek, feeling the rough yet surprisingly smooth texture of his scarred skin. Drawing closer, your lips tenderly brush against his.

"You don't want this, sweetheart," he murmurs softly, his words barely grazing your lips.

"And how could you possibly know what I want?" you challenge.

A mischievous smirk dances across his face as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. "Well, considerin’ you keep referrin’ to me as 'beef jerky,' I'm inclined to believe that most people don't fantasize about dried meat."

"Maybe I do," you assert, the words barely a whisper as you close the gap between you two with a soft kiss. You can sense his hesitation as your part, a subtle tension in his body as he grapples with his own conflicting emotions. In a sudden, bold move, he leans in, capturing your lips with a hunger that takes you by surprise. A low, guttural moan escapes from his mouth, blending with your own as the kiss deepens.

His hand comes up to tug you towards him from the back of your head, intensifying the contact between you. The sensation almost leaves you breathless, eliciting a gasp that mingles with the shared breath between you. You bite his lower lip, a mix of playful teasing and unbridled longing in the gesture. He responds with a deep groan, the sound sending a thrill through you as he presses his hips into yours, the bulge of his arousal evident.

Your heart races as your hands glide down his neck, delicately tracing the contours of his skin. Your touch remains gentle and exploratory as your fingers nimbly unbutton his shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to reach his chest. Tracing the intricate patterns of his skin with care, you relish the intimacy of the moment. He twitches underneath your touch, his bare chest feeling the caress as if for the first time in ages.

Suddenly, he pulls back, his hand gripping your neck and pushing you away forcefully. He stares at you, his grip firm and unyielding. You're left wondering what caused him to snap. Could it have been because you touched his bare skin? You notice his expression shifts from intensity to a hint of vulnerability. His hand slowly releases its grip on your neck, and he takes a step back, creating a distance between you.

Stunned by the sudden denial, you watch as The Ghoul walks away and settles against the opposing wall. With crossed arms and a resigned posture, he leans his head back, uttering a soft “G’night” that hangs in the air like a final farewell to the intense moment you both shared.

Feeling a mix of emotions, you slide down the wall on your side of the room, your breath still heavy and your skin slightly damp with sweat. As you sit there, processing the abrupt end to the passionate encounter, you can't help but feel an anxious pang of rejection. The feeling begins gnawing at you, a heavy ache in your chest that lingers.

The morning sun finds you both silent and tense, caught in the aftermath of the previous night. The air between you is thick, filled with unsaid words and unaddressed feelings. Neither of you managed a good night's sleep, the discomfort of the cold, hard floor only a minor nuisance compared to the war within your minds.

As you both go about packing your things, each movement seems to echo loudly in the silence, punctuating the awkwardness that has settled between you. Neither of you dares to meet the other's gaze, the memory of the stolen kiss lingering in the air like a ghost.

In hindsight, kissing him was a foolish decision. You barely know him, and the little you do know paints him more as an uncompromising brute than a potential romantic interest. Despite the brief moments of camaraderie, he's been a prickly, distant companion for the most part. You find yourself questioning your actions, the taste of regret bitter on your tongue.

“So what’s the plan?” You attempt to lighten the mood, “Seems like we’re not after a head anymore.”

“We’re tracking a woman by the name of Moldaver. That's where the head is goin’,” he responds.

"Flame Mother…" you muse aloud, "I wonder what her deal is."

"I find myself askin’ the same about you," he murmurs almost inaudibly.

With an eye roll, you sling your bag over your shoulder, then give him a nod to signal that you're ready to hit the road. The Ghoul briefly mentions a letter he found on one of the men he shot up in Filly that references Moldaver. He believes that the same man was the son of an old associate of his, and that's where the two of you are headed - a long journey ahead. You take a deep breath, activate your pip-boy, and lock eyes with him. "Let's do this, beef jerky.”

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @cheshirecat484 @capan-deveraux2 @rebelmarylou

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when you break your arm in the plane crash, Jackie seems to be helping you out more than usual and you're left wondering why.

warning/s: mentions of a plane crash, amputation, broken bones.. the usual warnings that come with Yellowjackets lol.

author's note: this has been ready for a while now, as have a few other things whilst i work on some old requests. sorry for the delay with everything - i’ve been very busy, but i hope you like this two part jackie imagine :)

I could hear screaming and shouting, there was smoke everywhere and, despite my confusion, I knew I needed to get out of here before the smoke suffocated me.

Clipping off my seatbelt, I scrambled out of the aisle and briefly looked around, unable to make sense of anything, and then my head was spinning and I couldn't stay here any longer. Fresh air. I needed to breathe and then I could work out what was what.

Following the sound of screaming seemed counterproductive, but that was the way out, so I dragged my body – which felt like it had been thrown around in a blender – out the back of the plane and to... the middle of the forest?

The team. Some of them were running around, doing all sorts I couldn't seem to focus on, whilst others were bent over, catching their breath, appearing dazed and confused like me. I didn't get long to think about how I'd ended up here when, suddenly, someone shoved into me from behind and I fell forward, landing right on my outstretched arm.

A scream escaped my lips at the pain that struck, it breaking through the fog of confusion. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears pricking them instinctively, and tried to breathe through the pain. Pushing myself up with my other hand, I grimaced at the slight movement of my left arm, which had to be broken considering I couldn't do anything with it.

It wasn't until after all the chaos, after everybody had stopped screaming and vomiting and crying, that the realisation that our plane had crashed hit us. And by then, I was too preoccupied with my broken arm. Imagine coming out of a plane crash unscathed, only to get pushed down and left with a broken arm. Very stupid, indeed.

Surprisingly, Misty was the only one who could work under pressure, barely fazed by everything happening and instead tending to everyone's injuries as quickly as she could. Upon realising I'd broken my arm, she immediately made me her best attempt at a splint using some sticks and an old ripped shirt, as well as helping me into a makeshift sling using the same ripped shirt. Given the circumstances, it was as good as a cast, but she didn't know the extent of the damage and I couldn't do anything more.

The first two days were a struggle, mainly because nobody knew what to do nor where to go. That was when the horrible acceptance of losing several members of our team, including one of our coaches, hit everyone hard. We all pitched in to bury them, though I wasn't able to do much with my arm, and held a funeral for them.

After the funeral ended, everybody stuck together in the vicinity of the crash. A few lingered away, probably trying to figure out where the hell we were, but I just wanted a sense of familiarity and stayed to open my suitcase which I'd luckily found. Unfortunately for me, the zipper required two hands, and only one of mine seemed to be available right now.

"Hey."

I sighed, looking up to see Jackie Taylor, the soccer team captain, standing there with her arms hugging herself. I hadn't spoken to her properly since before we set off, she'd mostly just stuck with Shauna, her best friend.

"Hey," I greeted, unsure what she wanted.

She nodded to my terrible sling. "How's your arm?"

"Very painful," I admitted, "but coach literally lost his leg, so I can't complain."

She frowned at my words, but it wasn't exactly an exaggeration. Misty had quite literally chopped Coach Scott's leg off when he got it trapped under the wing of the plane, and it wasn't an easy thing to deal with physically or mentally. A broken arm was nothing compared to an amputation.

"How are you?" I asked. She didn't look hurt, just tired and scared like the rest of us.

She shrugged helplessly, and I didn't need any elaboration. I nodded, acknowledging her, and then she said, "Do you need help with whatever you're doing?"

I looked down, remembering the dumb suitcase I couldn't open. "That would be great actually, yes. Can you hold it whilst I unzip it?"

She nodded and kneeled down, acting as my other hand whilst I unzipped my suitcase. It was a relief to finally open it, seeing everything was as I'd left it before we boarded the plane. That felt like a lifetime ago now.

"If you need help with anything else, just ask," Jackie said, making me look up to see her watching me.

Grateful, I offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Jackie."

She returned the smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. She'd been the first to offer her help in the first place, since everyone was preoccupied by their own trauma, so I appreciated it. Truthfully, the last person I expected to offer help was Jackie, since she usually thought of herself first.

"You should get some medication off Misty," she added. "It'll help with the pain."

I swallowed hard, smile fading. "Right. Thanks."

She nodded and left, glancing at me once more as she did. I didn't really question it as I looked back at my suitcase, distracting myself from the pain.

Later that day, Misty found me instead, immediately pouring out the medication she'd collated from everyone's suitcases in front of me.

"Misty, what are you–?"

"I've got some pills for you," she said nonchalantly.

"Oh, my arm doesn't hurt that much," I lied. "Coach needs–"

"There's enough for Ben, silly," she said with a laugh, making me quirk a brow. "Besides, it's not for your pain, though it will help with that, it's for the inflammation. Without surgery, that's gonna take a while to heal and anything we have can help."

I sighed, nodding. "Alright. Thanks."

"I'll give you them every dose," she said, before holding out two pills. "Here you go."

I silently accepted them, knowing they'd help but feeling bad that I'd be taking them when Coach Scott needed them more.

—

Finding the lake and the cabin was a lifesaver, literally. We needed water and somewhere to sleep that wasn't so out in the open, and I was already struggling to sleep as it was so at least being inside made it a little easier.

Oddly enough, over the next few days since moving into the cabin, I'd noticed Jackie staring at me. If I ever caught her eye, she'd look the other way or flash me a smile before awkwardly doing something else. I wasn't sure what was up, and it only became more questionable when she'd help me out if I needed it.

There was one time when I was trying to pull my shoes on, but struggling to tie the laces with my one good arm.

"Here, I got it," she said, coming out of nowhere to lean down in front of me and take over.

I watched her with curiosity, letting her tie my laces. She must've caught me staring as she looked up, eyes bright as they met mine.

"What?" she asked, standing back up.

I shook my head. "Nothing... thanks."

She nodded, smiling a little before leaving me be. And that wasn't it. Other times I'd be trying to carry something and she'd take it from me without a word, or I'd be pulling on a shirt and she'd quite literally help me into it. It was odd, because she'd never paid me any mind before, and wasn't very helpful to others. The other girls aided me when they occasionally saw me struggling, but not as much as Jackie.

Another time, I was struggling to sleep in my makeshift bed on the floor of the cabin. Everybody had fallen asleep hours ago, but my movement was restricted because of my arm and the shuffling I was doing was only bothering me more.

"You move a lot," a voice said in the firelight, startling me.

I looked over the room, past my sleeping team members, and saw it was Jackie laying on her side next to Shauna but facing me.

"Sorry," I mumbled guiltily. "Did I wake you?"

She shrugged, not answering my question, before saying, "Try elevating your arm."

"What?"

"That's why you can't sleep, right?" she asked.

I blinked, surprised she'd even noticed. "Yeah."

She sat up slowly, stretching, before crossing the room to grab what looked like a jacket. My eyes followed her as she moved, then she rolled it up before kneeling down beside me and placing it underneath my bad arm. I winced as she did so carefully, glancing at me apologetically, but then I relaxed my arm on top of the jacket and breathed out slowly.

"Is that better?" she asked quietly. "Won't be touching the ground now."

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Jackie."

"No problem," she said, before returning to her bed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I replied, very tired and very confused.

That was when I knew I needed to ask her why she was being so considerate, so out of character, at least to me anyway. The next morning, after I'd done the one thing I could do with my arm which was collecting water from the lake when we needed it, I was bringing it to Akilah who was boiling it over the fire. Unfortunately, I tripped over a stone on the way, almost dropping the bucket. Jackie came out of nowhere, taking it from my hand and leaving it with Akilah before returning to me.

"You okay?" she asked with a raised brow, hand wavering over my arm.

I tilted my head curiously. "I– yeah. I just..."

She smiled with confusion, shaking her head. "What is it?"

I stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "Why do you keep helping me? Checking on me?"

She scoffed playfully, looking away before saying, "I'm still your captain. Gotta make sure the team's okay, right?"

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, but I didn't have anything else to believe, so I gave in with a nod. "Yeah..."

"Take it easy," she said, eyes flickering to my arm before she left me.

—

Since we'd been stranded here, I'd only rinsed off in the lake once. That was a week ago when we found it, but I knew I needed to bathe properly and, after taking my shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, I headed for the lake. Washing my body was a struggle because of my arm, which had swollen so much to the point that even accidentally grazing my body with it sent a shot of pain in me.

I managed to wash my body the best I could, getting my tee-shirt sling wet but unable to do much else, then struggled to wash my hair. It was stupid, the fact that I couldn't even open a bottle of shampoo with one hand and squeeze it out. So much that I got overwhelmed with how useless I'd been feeling lately and threw it behind me onto the shore. Sulking, I stayed sitting in the water, submerged up to my legs in my bra and underwear.

I missed home. I missed my mum and my dad and my sister. I missed playing soccer. I even missed school. But most importantly, I missed having two working arms and not constantly being in pain. The longer we stayed out here, the more we established a routine, the less likely it felt we would be rescued. It was all piling on top of me, my uselessness being the cherry on top.

Staring out into the horizon, I frowned. Ten more minutes must have passed with me giving up on washing my hair when I heard footsteps not far behind me. I didn't bother turning around, but then whoever it was called me.

"Hey!"

Sighing deeply, I glanced over my shoulder, so fed up with everything that even my usual surprise at Jackie's presence didn't affect me.

"You not coming out?" she asked, stood at the edge of the water, hands on her hips.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and ignored her, looking forward again. Maybe she'd get the hint and leave me alone. Of course, she didn't.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them.

"Nothing," I said, voice muffled.

I heard her sigh from behind me before her footsteps approached me, her feet splashing in the water.

"I'm bathing," I told her knowingly. "A little privacy would be nice."

She snorted with amusement before I heard her shuffling. Confused, I turned around and saw her pulling off her shorts before throwing them onto the rocky shore with her slippers, leaving her in her underwear and tee shirt.

"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled.

She ignored me, instead grabbing the shampoo bottle I'd thrown back. Glancing at it and to me, she quirked a brow sarcastically. "This yours?"

I rolled my eyes and faced forward again, not bothering to acknowledge her presence as she seemed to be approaching me again. Only when she stood in front of me, blocking my view, and kneeled down to look at me was I forced to meet her gaze.

"D'you need help?" she asked softly, considerately.

Embarrassed, I looked down to my knees. Was it that obvious that I was struggling? Why was she the only one to check on me? The only one to notice? Why did she even care?

"Will you let me help you?" she asked when I didn't speak, and I finally looked up.

"Why?" I asked helplessly. "What's the point?"

She sat down cross-legged, unbothered by the water that was lapping against the bottom of her shirt. "For one, the smell in the cabin would go down significantly."

Realising she was joking, humour sparkling in her earth-coloured eyes, I scoffed and looked the other way. She began to laugh before patting my knee.

"Come on," she pleaded, laughter fading into a hopeful smile. "Please."

I didn't want anybody's help, especially not hers. But I needed it, and if she was being so kind as to come out here just to make sure I was okay, maybe it wasn't all so bad.

With a reluctant nod, I let her wash my hair for me, glad I wouldn't have to cause an ache in my other arm trying to do it. It was quiet as she did it, other than when she instructed me to dip my head in the water to wash out the shampoo and conditioner. Her fingers were delicate when she worked, massaging my head and putting me at ease instantly. I was still surprised at her aid, considering she'd always been preoccupied by herself or Shauna.

After I was done, she moved back in front of me, about to speak, but then her eyes caught sight of my swollen arm in my cast and widened.

"Woah, that looks painful," she noticed.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"Are you taking the medicine Misty is giving you?" she asked with concern.

I tried not to hesitate as I nodded, lying. Truthfully, I hadn't been taking the medicine since a few days ago, as I knew Coach Scott's leg was at risk of infection if he didn't have enough. Besides, I'd taken some and the swelling had been going down. This was a bad day is all. Kind of.

"Okay, well...," she started, eyes lingering on my arm with an unreadable expression, before she stood up and held out her hand. "You're done. Come on."

I accepted her hand and she led me back to the shore, kindly helping me back into my clothes. After pulling her shorts and shoes on, I instantly hugged her with my good arm, certainly surprising her.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said sincerely, pulling back and seeing her raised eyebrows. "You don't know how good you're being."

She smiled, preoccupied. "Don't. I'm just helping."

I begged to differ, but she wasn't in the mood to hear it and I wasn't going to fight her on it. Instead, I just offered her a small smile before we both headed back to the cabin together.

Later that day, I was sat in the woods for some alone time, perched on a log and reading my book, when suddenly something was thrown right at me, startling me.

"What the hell?!" Jackie shouted, and I looked up to see she'd found me and was furious.

Confused, I looked to see what she'd thrown at me, only to realise it was the medication I hadn't been taking. Oh, no.

"You aren't taking it!" she shouted with exasperation.

I looked up to her, still baffled. "How did you even–”

"I'm not stupid," she snapped, before taking a deep breath to contain herself.

"It doesn't matter," I said calmly. "Coach needs them more. He's literally lost his leg and–"

"Why do you keep belittling your injury?!" she asked in a broken voice. "Nobody needs a hero, Y/N, just take the damn meds!"

The patronising tone she was using was it for me, and I suddenly stood up, unable to let her make me feel bad anymore.

"Why the hell do you even care, Jackie?" I retorted.

Taken aback, she raised her eyebrows before crossing her arms and avoiding my eyes. "I'm the cap–"

"Nobody gives a shit about that anymore!" I cut her off, before glaring at her. "You never paid me any mind before, so what gives now, huh? Did Jackie fucking Taylor suddenly grow a heart?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously, why the hell do you care all of a sudden?" I continued. "Why do you–?"

"Because it's my damn fault!" she said, and my anger was momentarily replaced by further confusion. She continued to ramble, "I didn't mean to, but the plane was on fire and Shauna was going to get hurt and I just rushed out of there without thinking and I didn't mean to push you and then you broke your arm and I feel guilty, okay?!"

Furrowing my brows, I studied her as she took a deep breath. Though she was stressed by her admission of guilt, I was oddly calm.

"That was just an accident," I said, unsure why it mattered to her so much. "If that's why you've been helping me, why you've been keeping an eye on me... you can stop. I'm not dying."

"Yeah, now," she said knowingly, guilt-laden eyes meeting mine, "but when a fucking bear comes out of nowhere and tries to eat you, what are you gonna do with one arm?"

It took me a second to realise she was dead serious, and I tried very hard not to smile.

"If a bear tried to eat me and I had my arm, I'd still get eaten," I said matter-of-factly. "You think I can take on a bear?"

She groaned with discontent. "You don't get it!"

I covered my mouth, struggling not to smile in front of her and piss her off more. She only fixed me with a classic Jackie glare.

"Just take the fucking meds," she said threateningly, in a way that was reminiscent of a cute dog barking, before storming off.

Admittedly, I had to pause and think about what the hell just happened, still a little lost. All this time, she'd been helping me out of guilt? She blamed herself for my broken arm? It was an accident and she couldn't have known what would happen. Tensions were high, it was chaos! I couldn't blame her even if I tried. It was almost laughable how she'd reacted, though at least it explained her sudden interest in my welfare.

When I returned to the cabin after her outburst, she glanced at me once but didn't bother speaking to me. And when I thought it would be a temporary thing, she began to ignore me over the next few days, actively avoiding me. If it weren't to share the cabin to sleep, she'd either completely leave the space I was in or go as far away from me as she possibly could. Could've been guilt, anger or embarrassment, I wasn't sure, but I knew it was extremely childish.

I was filling up a bottle of water from our basin when she rounded the corner and saw me, clearly wanting to do the same judging from her own bottle in hand. One glance my way and she was ready to leave, but I decided to make the first move after a week of not speaking.

"I'm not gonna bite," I pointed out.

She clenched her jaw with indifference. "I know."

A smile ghosted my lips as I focused on filling my bottle, and she surprisingly approached the basin and did the same. It was silent, the sound of our movement filling the air, but she was still tense beside me. It felt all wrong, especially after how supportive she'd been since we got here.

"I'm taking my medicine by the way," I said casually, but I wanted her to know that she hadn't wasted her breath. I'd listened.

"That's good," she spoke after a moment, trying not to sound too bothered.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to, but then this angry soccer player who was crushing under the immense guilt from foreshadowing my improbable yet supposedly imminent death by bear made me feel bad," I continued calmly.

She paused her action, glancing at me with a look of disbelief, and I couldn't hold in my laughter any longer. Her expression was priceless.

"Asshole," she muttered, but she was clearly trying not to smile.

I capped my bottle before saying, "This is awkward. Stop avoiding me, please. I don't hate you or anything. And you don't need to keep checking on me out of guilt. We can just... go back to normal, whatever that was."

She gave me a disapproving glance. "It wasn't just out of guilt."

I raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Believe it or not, Y/N, I do care about you," she said, surprising me. And then she added quickly, "I care about everyone here."

Heart warming at her words, I began to feel bad for what I'd said to her when we argued. "Thanks," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry for what I said, about you suddenly growing a heart. Wasn't nice at all. Or true."

She shrugged awkwardly, looking down. "It's okay. I've been a bit selfish lately. I know the girls say it. Even Shauna thinks it.”

I looked over at her, noticing the conflicted expression she wore. Underneath her confident, cool girl demeanour was just a normal teenager like everyone else, and right now, she looked more and more like that.

"Not always," I reminded her, hoping she knew that I was still grateful for what she'd done for me since the crash, guilt or no guilt.

She exhaled softly, an appreciative smile on her lips, and I was beginning to question if breaking my arm was worth giving me a reason to get to know Jackie Taylor in a different way.

—

When there wasn't the threat of survival creeping up on us, or the fear of being stranded away from our lives back home forever, there was complete and utter boredom. There was only so many times you could play the same card games or read the same books without wanting to smack your head against a wall.

I realised soon enough that I missed playing soccer and one  day when I was having a wander near the cabin, I began to subconsciously kick around an acorn. That was where acorn soccer began. Now, whenever I was fed up doing the same thing all the time, I'd go into a little clearing near the cabin and start kicking around an acorn to have a sense of normalcy.

This time, as I was dribbling the acorn around some sticks, I heard someone approaching and glanced up to see it was Jackie.

"What are you doing?" she asked with both amusement and curiosity.

"Playing soccer," I said like it was obvious, before kicking the acorn in the air towards her. Instinctively, she caught it with her foot, stabilising it and letting it hit the ground gently. I cracked a smile, saying, "Someone's not lost their touch."

She rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "So this is where you disappear to?"

I quirked a brow. "Why? You keeping tabs?"

"You wish you were that interesting," she retorted, kicking around the acorn.

"Interesting enough for you to track down, clearly," I teased.

She glanced at me with a glint of humour in her eyes. "Maybe I just needed to make sure the bear didn't get you."

I grinned. "Aw, you do care! Nice to know you have my back."

At this, she finally let out a laugh, teeth showing and eyes sparkling and in such a way that I couldn't help but admire how pretty she looked right now.

"Okay, where's the goal?" she asked after a moment, pausing from kicking around the acorn.

"What?"

She gave me a look. "I'm bored too, now c'mon."

I chuckled and began to explain to her the unimpressive yet fulfilling setup I had, which consisted of me kicking the acorn between two trees as a 'net'. Once she was caught up, we found a bigger acorn together and began to play.

It was almost like we were back at soccer practice, playing and having fun and not having to worry about any impending doom. I'd forgotten how good it could feel to just be, and I'd especially forgotten how good Jackie was at soccer, making for the perfect opponent.

She scored for the third time and raised her hands in the air as she cheered for herself. "Hell yeah!"

"You see, this is why we got to nationals," I reminded her, making her laugh.

"God, I forgot how fun soccer was," she said with a sigh. "Clever idea with the acorn."

I shrugged. "Boredom struck. Creativity thrived."

She snickered, hands on her hips, before nodding at my arm. "Should you even be playing with your arm like that?"

I quirked a brow. "What you gonna do? Rat me out to Misty?"

She snorted with amusement. "She's too busy with Coach Scott to care."

I tried not to laugh, knowing Misty had been enjoying herself a little too much with looking after Coach Scott and his leg. It was clear she liked him, and though he was aware of how inappropriate it was, he had no choice but to accept her help. Yeah, the last thing on Misty's mind was if I was playing acorn soccer or not.

"Okay, you ready for the next one?" Jackie asked, already kicking the acorn into the centre to start again. "I might just take it easy on you this time. Y'know, because you're at a disadvantage."

I glared at her playfully, ignoring the way her cocky grin made me feel. "Game on, Taylor."

—

Since that point, I'd found myself looking out for Jackie a little more than usual. I guess you could say she'd piqued my interest more than she ever had. Back home, she was my team captain and that was it. We never really hung out outside of practice or soccer parties because our circles never crossed over. Now though, with her looking out for me and hanging out with me more, I was beginning to develop a little crush on her.

I would've been insane not to. She was funny, flirty, smart and she always knew what she wanted. And it was probably silly of me to crush on the one girl I could never get, but it certainly made my current situation a bit more manageable. Nothing like a teenage crush to get your mind off reality.

I liked to think I was subtle with it, the whole checking out Jackie every now and then. It was only when she was a fair distance away and there was no chance she would spot me. But one morning, as I was helping Akilah boil some more water from the lake, I spotted Jackie walking out of the cabin with Shauna. It was nothing different, but for some reason, she just looked extra stunning this morning. I wasn't sure what it was – possibly my own delusion – but I couldn't stop stealing looks at her.

And then she glanced my way, catching my eye, and before I could even react, embarrassed I'd been caught out, a knowing smile appeared on her lips and she winked playfully before paying her attention back to Shauna. I swallowed, flustered, and didn't look at her again for the rest of the day. Stupid crush.

[lollipopliccer]

𝔄 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 ❦

❦ warning lollipop chaos ahead! proceed with caution… ❦ light angst , happy ending , ex getō suguru , tattoo artist suguru , set in a tattoo parlour , soft dom geto , praise , cunnilingus , masochism , light sadism & impact play , ig semi public and i guessss office sex

the descriptions of this tattoo experience is not accurate, i dunno shit abt tattoos (even tho i rlly wanna get one). so don't bite my fucking dick off with the technicalities! lets just b happy that i acc posted this hehehe

word count ; 5k ish

black fem reader (still all can read)

lollipopliccer’s love letter ❦ … hiiiii lollipops 🪷 i just wanted to say thank u sm for the love on my debut fic i rlly appreciated it. i’m rlly excited for y’all to read this new one EEEEE. this one was also long as helllll (¬_¬), shit has just been ridiculous in my life rn so sorry abt the delay, i don’t even know y it took me this long just to write 5k ugh anywayyy. i’m excited, cus i always eat up geto tattoo artist head-cannons, mmmm they’re just so mm mm mm tasty. anyway this is my first time writing some angst, i usually stay clear away from any typa angst, i’ve already got enough of that in my life plss haahaa, i don’t even know what possessed me to dip my toe in it, but don’t worry it’s very light. okayy enough of the babble, pls enjoy my fic, and i’d appreciate all ur interaction, reposts, comments, feedback blah blah… mwah mwah mwah ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°｡⋆♡‧₊˚

'i'm so excitteedddd' you squeal, as your best friend nobara parks her car, beside the tattoo parlor. you both had been planning your tattoos together for a few weeks now settling on the most beautiful matching heart design on both your bikini lines, whilst individually having unique patterns going through the (tatted) hearts.

"you better not fucking scream when you're actually under the gun" nobara chastises laughing.

"fuck you bitch, you already know i'm bad like that, not even gonna flinch" you taunt, as you both get out of her car.

you decided on wearing a fitted, short black dress, that accentuated your curves and hips but would also be easily manoeuvrable for your tattoo placement. shoko Ieiri your tattoo artist made sure you were comfortable with your design and placement.

underneath your dress, you wore bikini bottoms with side ties, for the same reasons as the dress - paired with some white trainers with pink embellishments. you complete your outfit with jewellery. including your pandora bracelet with silver and pink charms, a necklace, and stud earrings.

you both walk into the parlour, it's decorated all over its dark blue walls with a myriad of paintings, sketches, and different artworks. nobara leads you to the front desk as she had booked the appointment. you're greeted by a raven-haired girl with a short pixie cut.

"hey, are you guys here for your appointment?" she asks, as you notice her name tag- 'maki', and her tattoos and scars peeking through her top.

"yeah, um we had an appointment for 6:30 pm" nobara states, you can see her start to blush at maki.

"cool, yeah i'll check that out for you, umm..." maki responds

nobara so obviously interested in maki, decides to flirt, while you absent-mindedly look at the artwork placed across the shop. it's truly captivating, the deep dark hues and colours, so beautifully drawn, depicting what you could only describe as demons. they were more abstract than the stereotypical depiction, but these works somehow gave more meaning and conveyed more torment.

"so how long have you been working here, maki right?" nobara asks

"yeah, i started some months ago."

"that's cool, i love your tats”

“thank you, i um did some of em myself, nobara right?” maki responds getting nobara’s name from the booked appointment slot

“yeah…” nobara smiles shyly

“…are those your sketches up there? nobara asks, pointing to one of the sketches you've been staring at, there's a familiarity to the work displayed. but you can't put your finger on it.

"no um that's actually from another tattoo artist's, geto." maki answers.

you almost freeze, just from the mention of his name "who?!"

"uhh geto suguru, he owns the place, his artwork is all over these walls" maki responds to you.

a shiver runs up your spine "oh..."

"on that note, i'm sorry for the inconvenience girls, but shoko, your tattooist she had to take our other colleague gojo to the hospital- broke his arm doing some dumb shit. so she won't be able to actually give you your tattoo’s today, however we're able to swap her in for geto suguru, he just got back into town and is just as talented"

"shit" nobara turns to you, already knowing the issue from just his name alone, "yn i had no idea omg, i should've checked better, we can leave"

"nah there'll be no need for that, right yn?" you hear his voice. his silky deep voice, it always had that raspy quality that made your knees go weak. another shiver runs down your spine. you whip around.

"why tf are you here?" you sneer.

"uhh i work here…" he answers deadpan.

you turn back around, after giving him a lethal sneer, "hey um maki is there any other artist today?"

"no, i'm sorry, everyone else is booked." she apologises

"and anyway, it'll be a hassle for you guys if you were to reschedule," geto states

you simply stare at nobara refusing to even glance at him.

"come on yn" geto insists gently, leaning closer to you. your back to him. your name on his lips has you reeling, how softly he calls to you, like no other.

nobara waits for what you want to do, and if you're comfortable being tattooed by your ex in such an intimate area?

"let's get this done", you tell nobara, you turn around to face geto who has that enticing smirk.

as you follow him to his workspace, nobara hangs back reassured that you're comfortable being with your ex. you get the chance to truly take him in since last you saw him. his tattoo’s have grown, as he's painted a whole-sleeved dragon across his left arm, slithering out of his tight-fitted black t. your eyes roam all over his body, soaking in his confident stride, his height, taller than you remember. the way he ties part of his black, luscious hair in the bun is similar but different from the way you remember, leaving the rest of his hair to hang past his shoulders. but his right-hand tattoo is as you remember. a rose’s stem covered in thorns, wrapped around his hand, you can't help but still have your heart swell from that.

as he opens the door for you, you strut past him in silence, he of course responds with an eye roll to your petulance. his workspace is decorated with more of his works, some unfinished, yet so mesmerising you can't look away from them, they seem to depict a greater depth, too intimate for the outer world. the deep hues of dark royal blues, blacks, and green meld together, casting an otherworldly aura. the demons here have this eerie elegance, their features subtly tormenting, evoking such sorrows.

"if you're not comfortable with me tattooing you, we don't have to, i will let you reschedule free of charge-" "i know." you state, without hesitation. and with that, the silence returns as geto smiles slightly, he then grabs his equipment, lining them up, his needle gun, ink, etc.

"why did you insist on me not rescheduling then?" you taunt

"i wouldn't say i instisted" geto defends.

"mmm really? cus i'd even say you implored" you smirk. seeing you smile… he wonders how he could’ve forgotten how magnetic it is.

"i just wanted to see you…”

a pause.

"you broke up with me." you interrupt coldly, both of you are reminded of your separation...

… you begged him to stay. the pain you felt completely consumed you, leaving you empty…

geto holds your gaze. your eyes filled with anger, but also longing. you try to conceal your feelings by turning around.

"yn..." he calls out to you, but you ignore him, seemingly too entranced by a random splotch on the wall, while trying to hold it all in "...yn look at me", geto approached.

you turned around slowly. almost stubbornly, you made sure to look him in his eyes, those deep dark orbs that never failed to suck you into a world of intensity and sensitivity. you both hold each other's gaze, so much said between each other, longing, and regret.

"i am sorry yn, i-" in his attempt to express his apology, you immediately stride past to sit on the tattoo bed, too overwhelmed.

"-right so like from a scale of 1-10, 10 being i'm gonna need to b fucking sedated, how painful is this tat going to be" you ramble, trying to divert the conversation.

you ignore his sigh, as he walks to his chair. he then chooses to focus on preparing his equipment, sterilising them, all that shit. "the tattoo shouldn't be that painful, especially as you requested numbing cream."

"cool" you respond curtly, you follow his actions on focusing on the task at hand, and lift up the side of your dress, to expose the side you were getting tatted on.

when geto looks back he sees your pink bikini bottoms with string ties, he looks away trying to keep his composure "just want you to give me an idea where you want your heart and thorns”.

you clear your throat a little, to try and calm your nerves, “um just around here, i trust your um artistic inclinations. have some freedom with it, i know its kinda simple but i um- the thorns i want them to wrap around, please.”

“of course, yn”

geto trying his best to make this experience as comfortable as possible begins applying the numbing cream. he looks you in your eyes, to see if there were any remaining apprehensions, finding none, the gun comes to life.

“you tell me how you’re feeling throughout this process, if anything feels off with what i am doing, you tell me, do you understand?” geto instructs, his firmness, and apprehension to cause you any unnecessary harm stirs things in you. things you’ve tried repressing, tried to move on from, evidently unsuccessfully.

you nod in response adding a “yes”. and so begins the process, as geto brings needle to skin, his art begins to mark you. the initial twitch of pain you feel is subdued by the numbing cream generously applied. although you can’t help the slight yelp that falls from your lips, which geto catches onto and immediately soothes “shhh it’s okay, the cream will kick in soon won’t feel a thing hun”. his words soothe you, as they always used to, leading you to simply whimper in slight pain. you can’t help but look at him, at how he’s completely focused on your brown skin, that he marks by his hands.

…

as the hours go on, you slowly see geto’s work, his art come together, the red hues of the heart mixing together with slight pinks but also contrasted shades of black, to provide it with such depth, teasing the later depictions of darkness the thorns will add. you are in complete awe of this man, of his work, as you watch him work completely zoned in, despite any dull pain mumbling under the numbing cream.

as your focus lays on him- memories, old feelings of pain, sadness, and confusion begin to bubble again, and you blurt…

“why did you leave?”

a pause…

followed by silence… your demand for answers hanging over you both, while he still remains focused on your tattoo, you remain waiting. you know he heard you.

“i found myself in darkness again, yn, but that time it was even more challenging.. my hallucinations, my night terrors all came back, i was in it deep…” he pauses trying to find his words, and you give him that space “… i knew you were there for me, holding me when i woke up screaming. you stood by me…” he paused

“…however i couldn’t let you do that, i couldn’t bring you there with me. not when i couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world. i needed to find myself again, my purpose. and i know the way i left you, was cold, and confusing, and i am truly sorry, but i had to do it for myself.” as you listen attentively, watching him intently, he slowly gazes at you, pausing his work. your eyes meet with such intensity, such ache, and you start welling up, finally understanding everything, no longer being left with nothing but a cold departure.

“i’m sorry- m’so- ‘m so so sorry geto” tears cascade down your face, geto is quick to wipe them away, softly holding your precious face.

“sshh, ssh baby, don’t be silly mmm, you did nothing wrong, and i’ve been doing better. so much better. finding new channels to express how i feel, what i see.” referring to the intricate art that decorated his walls.

you sniffle, you feel so guilty and ashamed, for the resentment you harboured against him when he was out there trying to fight his way out of such a dark mental space. “they’re beautiful.” you sniffle

“not a day goes by that i don’t think about you, that i don’t regret the way i left. i would’ve come back but i thought you would move on...”

“i didn’t.” you respond

“neither did i.”

with your admissions to one another, a comforting silence fell, filling the room with sweet serenity, and you both found yourselves tethered together once again, holding each other’s gaze, filled with yearning.

you were the first to break, averting your gaze, feeling like it was the first time meeting, how your butterflies bloomed and fluttered, riddled with carnal hunger for him. the paradox of your feelings for him always consumed you, almost driving you mad, only geto could set you so ablaze.

the needle resumed its course, mechanically piercing your skin. both your attentions returned to their original positions.

the only difference being the shift in the atmosphere, the reignition of your feelings for one another, but this time at a tenfold from the time spent apart, wanting no other.

“ahh it’s getting a little sore geto” you whine in slight pain

“sorry yn, we’re moving onto the thorns now, we’ll soon be done, why don’t you take a look at it for me, tell if you don’t like anything?”

as he wipes over the completed heart, filled with colours and dimensions, so deep and beautiful, truly depicting more than you could imagine, it’s medium-sized maintaining a slight cuteness to the art, but still depicts chaos within, which geto clearly understood about you, and so was best to depict it.

“i love it.” you squeal, looking into his eyes, as he looks for reassurance from you. his vibrant smile brightens his face, you hadn’t seen it in so long, and it warmed you.

“good, we’re going to move to the thorns, wrapped down your thigh, why don’t you tell me about your choice of thrones?” geto asked so he could understand your thought process behind the tattoo.

you were apprehensive to reveal your thorns, largely from a place of embarrassment. you didn’t want to show how much he had affected you, and still did, but you did not want to lie to him especially after, he revealed himself so intimately to you.

the thorns, um, i got them from you…” geto halts at this, looking at you in slight confusion “they stemmed from me just wanting to have a piece of you still with me, something that i remembered, that reminded me of you… the thorns, the ones you have on your rose.” in explaining, you feel bold enough to touch the inked rose on his right hand, grazing your fingers over the thorns

suguru can hardly conceal his feelings. “i missed you.” geto states. his dark, sleek eyes told you how he burned for you.

“i missed you too suguru.” you whisper. your feelings flood your body, making you tingly- his intensity holds you in place. you’re both focussed on one another, suguru begins to smile feeling the warmth of your fingers touching him so delicately.

"lets continue your tattoo, i don't wanna fuck it up" suguru states, slowly bringing his hand away from your touch, even though he wanted nothing more than to let you touch him all over. to feel how those pretty acrylics, decorated in bows and charms along his skin, but he didn't want to mess this up, he wanted to tattoo you perfectly.

"okay" you respond, almost dissapointedly. wanting to feel him under your fingertips. you'd settle for now to feel his hands on your thighs, holding them to get his angles right, you were beginning to realise that you wanted more than just to stroke his hand. you want him to mark you all over, with more than just his needle gun.

"you've gotta try and stay still for me yn, i know it hurts, but it'll be over soon" suguru soothed, as his eyes narrowed around the curves of your thighs, the way they flexed and trembled slightly as you whimpered due to the numbed pain.

"okay... can i hold onto you?" you ask. he responds with a nod. you grip his arm, wanting to feel tethered- you don't remember him being so well-built, his biceps feel thick and powerful, almost hard to the touch as he flexes per his movements.

...

you're now a few hours into the tattoo, suguru’s taking his time, to add such beautiful details. the tension between the two of you is palpable, but the air is no longer filled with animosity, but rather intimacy. knowing you though, and how impatient you are suguru already sees it coming when you-

"sug i'm fucking borreeddd" the numbing cream obviously doing its job to reduce the pain to something dismissible, suguru chuckles finding your impatience so familial and adorable.

"it's barely been two hours" suguru forever sassy, remarks, rolling his eyes at ur moodiness. "now stay still, you're messin up my work." suguru states, you huff and bite your tongue, as you don’t want to fuck up his flow, you already know he works best when he’s zoned-in on a task.

you decide to catch up with him, your curiosity building, you've both missed so much from each other's lives. "i like your parlour. i would've bet money you'd turn your art into tattoos, you were too talented to let your art hide in your sketches"

suguru smiles again, "yeah? it was either this or burning down the town", he jokes and makes you both laugh, due to the absurdity. however, you both knew, there was some truth to it, which honestly added to your laughs

"right, of course committing arson, and potential mass murder is an obvious alternative." you sarcastically quip

"what you don't agree, i know you're not much better at keeping your chaos in check," he teases, his eyes locking onto yours.

you feel yourself flush, feeling seen- so you try staying on track to your original plan to catch up with him, "when did you open this place?"

"well actually gojo was the one who invested in my passion"

"that's so sweet"

"yeah, he's a fucking asshole, always all up in my business," he remarks, with a small smile, feigning annoyance. you can feel the fondness behind his words.

you notice how suguru smiles, how he teases, just like he used to, & still has that assertive and confident allure to him, that natural dominance and assuredness in himself, that he almost lost. your conversation with one another continued, bantering off one another. you make each other laugh and snicker and your heart can’t help but swell.

...

your feelings for him set aflame once again. this time with a ferocity you could barely contain. only heightened by the dull pain that he controlled with his needle, marking you so prettily. the assured control suguru had over your body was so seductive, it made places other than your tatted thigh, start to ache, start to ache so badly.

finally, geto lays the finishing touches on your tattoo, clearing up the intricate lines, adding shadings and highlights, and then wiping over the tattoo.

"okay, it's done. you can go check it in the mirror, let me know if you hate it." geto keeping his gaze low somewhat anxious to see your reaction.

as you approach the full-body mirror attached to the opposite wall, you couldn't possibly understand his apprehension because when you lay eyes on your tattoo, you are completely awestruck. you fall completely in love with his markings, the way the thorns pierce through the heart and sliver down your left hip, and thigh, wrapping them gorgeously.

you are lost for words, your lips part with a gasp, and when you bring your eyes up onto suguru through the mirror, you see how he watches you. following from your thighs decorated in his work, marking your body so seductively. then he focuses on how your dress is bunched up on those hips, those hips he’s held, and soothed over for hours today, but his mind wanders... reminiscing about all those times he used to handle and caress all over your plump thighs. how he would mould your body any way he pleased.

he watched as you held the undone ties of your pretty bikini bottoms, it made him salivate. his eyes cast over your dress- the way it hugged your body so exquisitely, propping up your boobs so prettily. the way your butt peaks out of the bunched-up dress, and how your breathing picked up, flustered from his heated gaze.

"i love it sug." you whisper softly.

"yeah?" he smirks. growing bolder, he walks up to you, and you don’t dare avert your eyes from his, through the mirror. you love the way his top hugs his thick muscular shoulders. his broad upper back being so beautifully emphasised, and how his sculpted chest has his nipple piercings teasing through his top. you salivate at his slim waist. ugh he's such a slut. you love the way his body is perfectly decorated in his art, marking his skin; and adorning his arms, and his neck, which is wrapped with a chain, you remember gifting him.

when he reaches you, he has to crouch down, flexing his strong thighs and calves hidden under his baggy bottoms, but you still have to look up at him to maintain eye contact, which he demands with his own. suguru holds the bottom of your thigh just under where the tattoo ends.

"how does it feel?" he whispers into your ear, his sharp gaze still honed on you

you whimper faintly because of the dull sting and ache from the tat

"a little sore sug, but it feels good, i really like it." you say softly while you lean into him, wanting to be wrapped in his body, his warmth.

he smiles at your admission "that's good yn, i'm going to wrap it up now, don't want it getting infected." you love the way he says your name, the way he purrs, your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly.

as he wraps the tattoo you wince, he immediately soothes you, "i've got you baby, it's okay." your body relaxes in response. your eyes never leave each other. as the tension shifts you feel enthralled, wanting him to touch you all over.

"yn, do you want me to play with you?" suguru asks, having that condescending tone that never failed to make you falter. you almost shy away, but he holds your face, bringing his hand up under your chin, his fingers grip your cheeks slightly, making you look directly at him “i want to play with you, i want to help you forgive me baby...” he whispers into your ear. your breath becoming more uneven and flustered from his proximity, that you can practically taste his aroma, how he mixes his scents of minty, smoky notes and cinnamon, woody undertones - it intoxicates you.

“…do you want me to?”

geto waits for your response, not daring to touch you the way he wants, without knowing you’re aching for it. and you want nothing more than that, for him to take care of you how he once did, oh how you wanted to see if he still remembered how to make you cum so blissfully. you nod giving out a soft “please”.

suguru kisses the side of your head, sprinkling kisses down your face making you giggle and fawn, till he reaches your neck and you lose your breath. geto finds the sensitive parts on your neck, making you feel so tingly, it's almost ticklish. you almost forgot how much you loved when suguru kissed and licked across your neck, how he would bite and suckle, leaving you all marked up just how he liked. god he’d go fucking crazy for it too. to hear you whine and pant below him as he licked and sucked. it sent tingles all over your body, straight to your clit. you shuddered under him, leaning onto him- to give him better access to mark you. slowly he grips your hips grinding his bulge into you, he even bends you forward a little so that you can feel him, how hard he is for you- humping into you over your clothed body.

geto held you at an angle arched while both of you stood in front of the mirror so that he could have you grind right back onto his dick that was growing so achingly hard for you. the way he moved your bodies together was so disgustingly sensual, you had to look away moaning as you felt his clothed dick thrust into you, giving you that sensation you so craved. you were whining, you felt so depraved like you hadn’t been touched like this in so long- you just wanted him to rip you the fuck open.

“mmm nah baby look at yourself in the mirror…” he demanded, to which you stubbornly ignored, forcing suguru to grab your face so that you could look at how pathetically you had come undone for him, just from his dry humping. “… i said fucking look at yourself, mmm? you lost your manners baby?” he teases knowing exactly how to fix your attitude. he ends his command by giving your thigh (without the tattoo) a firm slap, making you cry out, you quickly try stifling it, remembering you’re still in his fucking workspace.

“you’re so mean” you whine and pout up at him, which makes him chuckle at you, his smirk unfurling so lewdly.

“i’m going to make it up to you mmm? you’ll let me make you feel good baby? gotta apologise for making my baby upset.” the way he talks to you feigning that concern, his fucking tone, makes you feel weak, and pliant for him. as you move your legs a little wider, and let go of your tied bikini bottoms so they hang down barely concealing a thing. geto watches how strings of your arousal are built up, clinging onto your pretty bottoms. showing him just how wet you are for him and you push your butt into him even more, nodding your head in invitation for him to remedy all the mess he’s made.

as suguru brings his rose-covered hand down to your aching pussy ready to soothe it. once he touches her, feeling your glistening folds, he hisses as his eyes glaze over, and lower so seductively. you see the way his hand flexes and his veins protrude. his long, adept fingers dip further, caressing and rubbing against your hard little clit. he can feel it pulse for him, making you whine as suguru increases the pressure of his fingers on your clit. circling around your throbbing bundle of nerves. his fingers collect the slick past your lips, down to your spasming, weeping hole, and brings them back to your needy nub.

his tight circles, pet your pretty clit so well, turning you into a mewling mess, you can’t help but move against and around his fingers, acting so bratty- but suguru couldn't give a shit, he'll mould you right where he needs you again holding you by your neck and continuing his strokes on that clit regardless of how you whine.

"sug- aaa-" such a petulant whine leaves your supple lips, begging for him to go further into your leaking hole, you needed him to be inside you, having your pussy drool on his pretty, tatted fingers.

"i know baby, you need it don't you? you need me to fuck you open mmm?" suguru whispers in your ear, kissing the outside of your earlobe so delicately, while saying such filthy things. you look at him through the mirror nodding your head so pathetically, and why would he deny you, his baby? nah never...

suguru brings his finger back down to your desperate hole. he eases around your pussy going around the edges of her, only dipping the tip of his finger. you can't take his teasing-

"sugu! stop teasin-" suguru immediately interrupts, plunging his fingers into you, making you gasp. he slipped into your soppy pussy giving off that mind-numbing squelching sound, having your pussy suck his fingers in so snuggly, has you moaning wantonly. the way suguru’s digits fill you, he’s able to add a finger, scissoring two fingers into your weeping cunt, the way he pushes in and curls his fingers to rub against your plush walls it has you mewling. as you feel him find and rub against that spot, that perfect spongey spot so easily, your eyes roll back. suguru was losing his mind, he rasped a soft moan right into your ear, he loved watching you buck on his fingers, the way you moaned and struggled to take him, it made him itch and drool to have you.

his fingers in your pussy stroking and pumping into your soft, wet pussy. his hand around your neck holding your face up to keep your eyes on everything he was doing. his deep, velvety voice right by your ear, whispering, and moaning sweet nothings. you were losing your fucking mind, you almost couldn't handle it.

"aaa- nngg, sug- sug!," you moaned shamelessly "f-ohfuck i can't-"

"sshh baby, tf you think you're doing mmm, whining like that in my office?" suguru whispers chastising you. your eyes look up at him, and the way you looked so doe-eyed, so pathetic- barely able to hold in your moans, gripped him.

"you struggling to take it for me baby, want me stop?" geto taunts, but you instantly shake your head needing him all over you.

“no please don’t stop sug”

"you can take what i give you princess?"

"i need you uhahh" you wanted him to have you however he pleased.

the way he moves has you humping and panting, you wine on him trying to get some friction against your slutty little cunt.

your moans grow louder and the pitch of your whines grow higher- you suck on your pretty fingers to try and get yourself quiet, your eyes glazing over as you watch suguru fuck you so good with his fingers and his hard bulge pushing up into you. the way he licks and bites all over your neck leaving a trail of his marks. suguru still never averts his dark eyes from yours. the purple glints in his eyes kind of sparkle in your head. all of it is bringing you right to the edge. your eyes roll back, your thighs shake, your knees buckle from the pleasure. so pliant and easy for him to manoeuvre you so he can hold you up and fuck you in just the right angles he needs, that he demands.

“fuckfuckfuc- aahh ohhhh sugie. daddy oh mmynghh” you whine and cry, your head lolling onto his shoulder.

right on the precipice of your orgasm, suguru watches how you get so close to cumming, he’s fucking salivating seeing how you become so undone, how you’ve gone fucking dumb on just his fingers, he can’t help but moan and groan right with you.

“mmm mmfuck, mine. mine.” he purrs, licking all up on you

but all too soon, it comes to a halt, and your orgasm gets snatched away from you. suguru wickedly decides to take his fingers out of you. you almost cry

“wha- no suguru fuck no don’t stop, mmmmnoo” you whine so pathetically gripping his arm, it’s fucking laughable trying to keep his fingers right where you needed them, gripping his sculpted arms so hard. your hands… the size difference makes him smile. no not smile, he’s fucking smirking. that little shit.

“fuck you, SUG HMPH!” you practically stomp your feet, pushing him away as you’re about to walk away, but of course suguru grips you against him, pulling you back so close, you are still as stubborn as ever refusing to look at him, while you’re face to face, which makes him snicker. he isn’t having any of that bullshit tho, he grabs your chin and cheeks squeezing as a warning. he pulls your face up to him again and kisses you on your forehead, the side of your head, and your cheek, and then he ghosts his plump, nude lips over your lips.

“if i decide you don’t get to cum on my fingers, you won’t. i don’t fucking care how close you are.” suguru states, locking his eyes with yours so intensely, while his lips and breath feel so close to your own, you almost feel faint. you want nothing more than for him to just kiss you, you want to feel his lips again, oh how you miss how soft they were, how you loved the taste of his mouth, the taste of the mint with his own unique feel.

suguru’s eyes flutter down to look at your lips so lushly plump and glossed he can’t help but lick his lips. he wants nothing more than to mess up your brown and pink lip combo. to bite, suck and lick all over you.

“tell me you understand.”

“i understand daddy, m’sorry i threw a tantrum, i just wanted to cum on your fingers so bad-”

suguru smiles feeling fucking delighted from your admission

“-can you please kiss me, i promise i’ll behave sugie” you whisper almost whining at the end, you rub your thighs together feeling how you made such a mess for him, as your slick trickles down your thighs.

suguru feeling so pleased with you, groans into your mouth, once your lips touch. he almost forgot how much he missed this. how much he missed you, your lips, those soft lips that melted against his. he loved the way you gasped and whined from your slow kiss, so sensual and intimate. but he knew you were such an impatient brat, his impatient princess.

demanding more, you lace your hands into his hair. you adored his long, luscious hair so much, (that you remember countless times joking about shaving it off at night and turning it into a wig. those playful moments would always have you both bickering and laughing together. it makes your heart swell remembering this).

you begged for more by stroking and tugging at the nape of his hair, making his body tingle, as suguru moaned into your kiss. he licked on your lips to get you to open up for him. he loves the way you whine and moan from frustration and neediness while running your fingers through his hair, it made him lose his fucking mind, so, of course, he had to express that by nipping at your bottom lip. his bite made you whimper and grind up against him but it wasn’t enough. you needed more. you wanted more. but suguru leads the kiss to hold that slow, deep and sensual pace, having your tongues dance together, lick against each other unhurried. which was mind-blowing but also so frustrating you wanted to just devour him, you couldn't get enough.

you moaned into his mouth as suguru sucked on your bottom lip, and then went back to your tongue, licking against each other. he spat in your mouth briefly separating your mouths from one another, and immediately resuming the kiss. at this, you snapped. whining wantonly, you gripped onto him and stubbornly clambered onto him so your legs wrapped around his waist. suguru was easily able to carry you. you were determined to make him fuck you.

“daddy” you whisper, opening your eyes to pout up at him.

“yes baby?” suguru answers, giving little kisses along your chin down to your neck. sucking onto your sensitive neck areas, he knew just the right spots to make you lose your fucking mind.

“i want you to fuck me…” you say grinding down onto the bulge you could feel through his sweats. you were sure you could feel a wet spot on them, but you weren’t quite sure of the culprit, as your wet pussy dragged and humped on his dick print leaking with pre-cum. you could feel his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you, pumping you full of his cum. suguru hissed from the feeling of your mess teasing his aching cock.

“… please baby, please fuck me again, i said i’d be good” you whined, moving closer to his ears so only he could hear how desperate you were for him. suguru moans, his voice breaks and rasps a little from you grinding on him and circling over his dick.

suguru fucking snaps, he closes his eyes while his mouth slightly hangs open, just taking in how your hips wined on him while he carried you.

he then cupped your face to him, “you’re such a fucking brat.” he moans, holding your face and caressing your throat, he watches how your breathing picks up, as you get so flustered. he brings you close, kissing you on your forearm, bringing his hand around your neck. then he carries you to his tattoo bed.

“i am not going to fuck you yn-.”

“-but su!” you begin to whine interrupting him

“be quiet.” suguru reprimands, gripping your neck just a little tighter after placing you to sit on the edge of the seat “i’m not gonna fuck you on my dick. when i have you like that, it’s gonna be on my bed, where i can have you screaming on it without any fucking interruptions. do whatever the fuck i wanna do without you getting all shy on me tryna muffle those pretty moans from me mmm, you understand baby?”

“yeah daddy” you answer feeling so giddy and light with him

“there’s my princess,” he smirks, “you’re really that fucking needy, want my dick here, right where my colleagues are downstairs mmm?” he says before kissing you again. “good girl” he praises while lifting off your dress and quickly bringing his lips back onto yours. slowly he brings you to lay back. he gets in between your thighs lifting one up over his shoulder while letting your tatted thigh rest over the edge of the bed. from this angle he could see your pretty glistening pussy, clenching around nothing.

“lay back baby.” he instructs, he sees how you wait in anticipation for him laying back on the bed.

he crouches down, kneeling in front of your exposed pussy, your slick brown lips he’s completely hypnotised by, they glisten from your wetness. you grow a little shy, you weren’t prepared to be eaten out today (૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა). you bring down your hands to try and cover her up, feeling a little embarrassed.

suguru immediately dismissing your nonsense, and swats your hand away bringing them to instead hold your plush thighs “don’t piss me off today yn, it’s fucking mine.” you almost squeal in response to suguru, he gets so intense sometimes.

suguru is completely enchanted by your scent, the way your hole quivers and weeps for him he has to have a taste. keeping his eyes on you suguru takes the time to separate your folds with his fingers, he licks your swollen nub revelling in the way you gasp and twitch from the sensation, you feel so sensitive from the way his fingers had you shacking.

he then delves in, lapping and sucking on your bud making you writhe and moan from pleasure. the movement of his tongue has such an effect on your pussy, it's marvelling. he takes his time, really getting you sensitive, flattening his tongue on your clit and then straightening it to add pressure, circling perfectly around your bundle of nerves, it makes you gasp and arch your back so prettily

“fuck! sug-daddy aaaahhh” you release a raspy cry, gripping his hair and pulling him into you to, so you can grind on his face, which makes him moan into you, muffling a-

“fuck baby” into your wet pussy, he has to hold your hips down as you begin moving around too much for him to control, so he holds your thigh and places his other arm on your hip, pushing you down, so you stay fucking still for him to play with you properly. suguru brings his tongue down to your leaking hole, thrusting his pointed tongue into your pussy making you mewl and cover your mouth to stop yourself from squealing.

the way you’re panting and moaning, suguru can tell you're going dumb for him, aching to cum all over him. he takes his mouth off of you as your moans get higher. you whine from the absence of his tongue on your needy pussy but he makes up for it by spitting on her, letting his spit slide onto your sensitive cunt. the way his spit glistens and slides down your pussy, he pushes it back into your hole, thrusting his fingers and spit back into you. you react by clutching your thighs together from the sensitivity which makes suguru look at you sharply.

“open.”

you whine, separating your thighs, so he can dip his head back down onto your clit which makes you shudder, bucking your hips into his face. he continues thrusting his fingers into you while his tongue plays and toys with your sore little clit. you can feel everything, it's all so much, your eyes roll back as your mouth hangs open letting out a broken moan while you tug at suguru’s hair.

the way his fingers scissor your folds open, cunt drooling and sucking him in greedily, while he laps and lightly nips on your clit letting his spit drool on you, just for him to suck on your juices. he eats so sloppily it has your eyes watering.

“s’good sug—so fuckin’ good,” hips grinding into the movement of his lengthy fingers, chasing that ecstasy knotting in the pits of your stomach, you’re so close you start seeing white, suguru knows you’re about to cum from the way your fingers tangle and tug at his hair, struggling to either push him closer or away from you. his dark piercing gaze never leaves your face.

“daddy m’gonna cum! shit hah aa sug please lemme cum oh please” you sob, which makes suguru groan into your pussy. feeling the way your hole clenches around his fingers, leaking out so much wetness. the way your hard clit throbs for him, your juices covering, adorning his beautiful face, he looks so pussy drunk. the only thing on his mind is making you cum all over him.

“mmm baby, you gonna cum for me.. that’s my good fucking girl” he says pumping his fingers into you while moving his other hand to circle your clit in tight circles, so he can talk you through your orgasm.

“oh fuck daddy! oh my godnngh” your hands immediately grip suguru’s hands as you squeal and moan wantonly. your body arches and bucks as you dig your nails into him leaving little crescents on his skin. your vision dots, as your body tenses, lips parting into a silent scream as your release flies through you, wetting the tattoo bed. suguru watches your cream flow beneath you, all over his mouth. he pushes your juices back into your leaking hole, drooling at the way your hole squelches.

“there’s my good girl, oh you did so good baby mmmm” he praises lapping at your excess juices spilling down, you’re so fucking sensitive it hurts

“sug-ahh it hurts, fuckk” you whine, purring up at him as you watch suguru’s desire envelop you, you can tell he’s not done with you, but you doubt you could even take anymore.

suguru slithers up to you, kissing and licking up your boobs, making you squirm. when he reaches you he holds your face so gently, mere inches away from you.

“you forgive me baby?” suguru whispers gently stroking his nose against yours, almost purring against you like a cat “mmmm?” he purrs stroking the side of your face and caressing your limp exhausted body. you feel so warm against him, so lewd and yet so protected.

“i forgive you, you’re such an asshole” you giggle feeling a little shy again, only suguru was able to make you shy, and flush so easily. suguru whispers back a thank you and captures your lips into a searing kiss, melting you both together so passionately. you clutch onto the nape of his neck and run your fingers through his hair, earning you a moan, as suguru’s tongue dances with yours sensually. he grips your hips, pulling you against him. you can feel his bulge pulsing for you-

“suguru, aye we’re back! and u’ve got another appointment waiting!” you both hear from downstairs at the reception, shoko calling out to suguru followed by gojo following suit making a ruckus, throwing a tantrum about his arm

“dudeee, where tf r u? i coulda died!” gojo shouts out. you can hear him coming up the stairs to suguru’s office

“mmm fuck suguru, they’re coming up” you gasp up to suguru who still refuses to take notice of them. he smirks, choosing to still feel all up on you

“mmmm don’t care c’mere” suguru states, you roll your eyes

“suguruuu c’mon” you smirk, pushing against him

“ugghh for fucksake” suguru huffs moving off of you, taking your hand and pulling you up to him making you yelp with excitement. you both come to your senses though when you hear gojo’s footsteps up the stairs getting close, both of you scrambling to put your dress back on and get you both presentable.

suguru then holds your chin, so you both look at each other

“what?” you nervously laugh at his intense look

“let me take you out yn? i’ve missed you so much baby” suguru pleads while stroking the side of your cheek with his thumb

“mmmm i dunno sug, dependdss on where you’re gonna take me” you smirk up at him

“let me worry about that baby, i wanna treat you, try and make it up to you” suguru implores and then kisses your forehead just as gojo barges in-

“sUgUruUuu!!”

♡ ༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° ｡༻

[echoingspectrum]

𝑆𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠

𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 : 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑠.

Scampering over from cabinet to cabinet, you hurriedly opened each cupboard for any of your thread and needles, desperately searching for the tools you needed to mend your fellow passenger who happens to have a severe wound on their back upon their mission at Belobog.

Unfortunately, at the time, you stayed behind with Pom-Pom and the other two adults in the express. Assuming they'll manage to handle the situation with the stellaron inflicting the planet's harsh temperature and condition. 

Which, of course, they do ⏤ March and Dan Heng are two of the experienced members of the crew, known for their resourcefulness and quick thinking. You are not sure of March's caliber, but she does have creative problem-solving skills. You're not doubting March; she just has a colorful way of doing things.

As for Caelus, the newly-recruited member of the Astral Express, he has the spirit and essence of the stellaron within him; you're certain he will be able to withstand any extreme condition. Plus, with his unique connection to the stellaron, he might even be able to find a way to control or manipulate its attributes for the benefit of the mission. 

However, as experienced as one might be, one of them had fallen into the clutches of the fragmentum's assault and acquired a nasty bruise. 

So here you are, in your room ( aka the medical room ). The Astral Express has a ton of vacant rooms for you to stay in, but you're more comfortable with the aroma of the medical room. The scent of antiseptic and sterile equipment puts your mind at ease, reminding you of the countless times you've been patched up after intense missions. 

Dan Heng waited patiently and was seated in a chair nearby, his face etched with utter stoicism. That's him, alright. Always the poker face, despite the chaos and danger surrounding him. You've come to rely on his unwavering composure in times of crisis, knowing that he will always have your and everyone's back. 

As you finally locate the thread and needles, you feel a sense of relief, knowing that the train guard's wound can now be properly attended to. With a deep breath, you gather your supplies and rush back to where he was waiting. 

"Sorry for the delay, Dan Heng," you say, catching your breath. "I found the supplies I needed. Let's get to work and patch up that wound." 

Heng nods silently, his expression unchanged. "It's alright. I trust you to do what needs to be done," he replies calmly. 

Placing the tools on the metallic tray, you remained unmoving by his side. This caught the attention of Dan Heng's calm demeanor as he glanced at you curiously. "Is something wrong?"

Clearing your throat, your cheeks were painted with a drip of pink hue across your cheeks. Think professional ( Name ). 

"Would you mind if you…take off your upper clothes? I need to examine the wound thoroughly to ensure proper treatment. It's necessary for a thorough assessment and to determine the extent of the injury." You pause, waiting for his response, aware of the potential awkwardness of the request. 

Most of the injuries that you treated involved either a hand or their face. However, in this case, the wound seems to be located on his back. It'S nOt bECAuse yOU waNT TO sEe hIS aBS oR aNYthIng⏤

"Sure. Just give me some time." He then proceeded to remove his upper clothes, layer by layer. Shrugging his jade armor and his tailored coat, then unzipping his black turtleneck that hugs his accentuated, slender yet muscled body. 

You felt your heart skip a beat as you caught a glimpse of his chiseled physique. But quickly regaining your composure, debating your inner turmoil to be respectfully professional, and focused on the task at hand. 

'Stop simping and get things over with! It's rude to stare,' you thought to yourself. You cleared your throat and directed your attention back to the matter that needed addressing, reminding yourself that appearances should not distract from the purpose of the meeting. 

A gasp elicit from your lips as soon as your eyes were glued to his back, taking a moment to assess the severity of the train guard's wound. The gash on his back appears deep, with a 5-inch scar, but thankfully, it doesn't seem to be bleeding excessively.

But not only that, there were faint scars littering over his back. You wonder, How did he get those? Was it from his missions? Or something more?

"How long did you have this?" you asked, concern evident in your voice. The train guard turned around, thinking you were asking about his recent large gash on his back. "I've had it for a couple of days now," he replied, wincing as he shifted his weight. 

"Do you think you can manage?" he asked, his voice strained with uncertainty. You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and let out a whispered chuckle.

A small grin spread across your face as you reassured him, "You asked as if it's my first time. I've seen worse. I'll clean and dress the wound, and you'll be back on your feet in no time." Confidence filled your voice as you prepared to tend to the injured train guard. 

You fetch hot, boiled water, but not too boiled that gives a third-degree burn. Then, soaked with a fresh, neat towel, with a careful and practiced hand, you gently dabbed at the wound, cleaning away any dirt or soiled remains. 

Feeling something warm and wet provided a sense of ease for Dan Heng, knowing that you were taking proper care of his injury with nimble fingers. His muscles were now less tense, and he began to relax, trusting in your expertise. 

After all, you're Astral Express's best and only medic. 

You then sanitize both the needle and thread for the forthcoming medical treatment. "I'll be stitching your wound now. Tell me if anything is bothering you." Dan nodded, his eyes fixed on you as you prepared to stitch his wound. 

The room fell silent, except for the sound of your steady breathing and the faint hum of medical equipment in the background. With each careful stitch, you could sense Dan's solemn increase.

Your non-occupied hand was gently laid on his back, providing a comforting presence as you worked. As the last stitch was secured, you smiled reassuringly at him, putting on an ointment and then covering it with a bandage afterward. 

"There, that should do it." You beamed as you finished tending to Dan Heng's wound. 

Right before he could wear his upper clothes once more, you stopped him. "Dan Heng, do you want me to treat your other wounds as well? I know they are faint and not as severe as your current wound, but it's better to address them now rather than letting them potentially worsen over time." 

'Of course they would know.' Dan Heng sighed. Nothing escapes your vision. Contemplating whether he should let you treat his other wounds. He knew that you were skilled in medical care and genuinely cared about his well-being. 

However, he also didn't want to burden you with additional tasks or take up too much of your time. 

"I...thank you for your concern, and I appreciate your offer. It's just that I don't want to impose on you or distract you from more important matters. But if you think it's necessary, I trust your judgment and will gladly accept your help." 

"Admit it. You just want my hands around you~" you teasingly responded, playfully poking his arm. 

He can only sigh and roll his eyes at your jest. "You are insufferable." 

"I am, but you love me~"

"You won't get an argument from me..."

Your playful banter went back and forth until it was reduced to a peaceful silence. The twinkling stars gleamed brightly with delight and hilarity. Your medical room has a wide landscape for a window for you to infinitely stargaze upon the outside of the express in the comfort of your own space. 

You're thankful for Lady Himeko for giving you this room as your bedroom, too. Every trip you and your fellow companions take, you are solely focused on the cosmic tapestry right before you.

Now that you're with Dan Heng, there's a sensuous feeling to your stargazing sessions. As you both gaze at the stars, at the same time you're applying a gel to his fainted scars. 

You rubbed his back in a circling motion, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The gentle rhythm of your touch creates a soothing ambiance, enhancing the tranquility of the stargazing experience. 

With each stroke, you can't help but feel a deep connection forming between you and Dan, as if the stars themselves are aligning to bring you closer together. 

That or you're quite delulu⏤

"These scars—where did you get them?" you ask softly, breaking the peaceful silence. Dan's eyes flicker with a mix of vulnerability and hesitation.

"They're from the mission. It was a hard time," he whispered as he traced his gloved fingers over the scars, careful not to erase the applied gel. His voice was filled with a tinge of sorrow, yet resilience was still there. 

Every night, he would glimpse a fragments of his past through his dreams. Everything he saw felt surreal and transcendent, beyond the reality of his current predicament. He had learned to carry the weight of his experiences, using them as fuel to drive him forward. 

Despite the lingered pain, he remained driven to make a difference in the world he's presently resided in, never allowing his scars to define him.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, he suddenly arched his back forward upon feeling the sensation of soft lips making contact with the un-applied scars. He swerved his head to lock his gaze on yours.

"W-What…are you doing?"

"Sorry, it's just...No one has ever kissed them before, so I’m doing it now." Your apology came out in a meek whisper. Your fingers tenderly soothe the wounds. Your gaze upon his eyes was silent yet solace. 

"Your scars echoed with endless tunes of agony and perseverance. They longed to be touched and healed. I don't know what past you're trying to escape, but hopefully, I can bring some peace of mind." You continued to gently caress his scars, littering some miniature kisses there and here.

Trails of kisses traveled across his scars, leaving a trail of warmth and comfort in their wake. Your hot breath contrasts with his cold skin, giving an electrifying sensation to his spine. 

An arm encircle around his torso, your head place softly against his chiseled back. ( Don't worry it won't affect the gel⏤ )

His heart beats fast against his chest, his breath hitching as he slowly regains comfort under your gentle touch. The vulnerability in his eyes spoke volumes, revealing a depth of insatiable pain that words could not capture. 

He doesn't know what possessed you to do an act like this. Even your inner self is conflicted and embarrassed by the boldness of your actions. But in that moment, all your mind could think about was providing your train guard with the sense of solace and ease he needed.

"Don't worry, I'm here..."

His calloused hand grasps your non-occupied one and gives it a soothing squeeze. He let his eyes drop to the ground. Letting the serene atmosphere engulf the both of you. Let the stars be you audience and your witness to this silent exchange of comfort and understanding.

Scars are permanent marks that trail beyond retrospection and future struggles. They are etched into the skin, just as they are engraved into our memories. 

[ninjago-valentine-exchange]

Ninjago Valentine Exchange Master List 2024

Sorry for the delay but the masterlist of all 2024 Ninjago Valentine Exchange participants and works has now been compiled below!

Cole/Geo

Fic by @weekend-whip || Art by @ninja-chaos

Cole/Kai

Fic by @weekend-whip || Art by @froginninjago

Cole/Zane A

Fic by @miqotepotatoe || Art by @mech-mantis

Cole/Zane B

Fic by @miqotepotatoe || Art by @ataraxixx

Jaya A

Fic by @kristoffs-lullaby || Art by @im-a-samwich

Jaya B

Fic by @mikewheelerfan2022 || Art by @rinkunokoisuru

Kailor

Fic by @jazzopher || Art by @kristoffs-lullaby

Pixane

Fic by @crystallizabethine || Art by @rinkunokoisuru

Pixal/Nya A

Fic by @sundimus || Art by @juniperjellyfish

Pixal/Nya B

Fic by @sundimus || Art by @skrimbloz

Thank you to everyone who participated this year!!! (Also please let me know if any of the links don't work ;-;)

[homelanderbutbig]

The Only Person Who Matters To Me (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1105 words. Hurt/comfort, and some fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You're late and Homelander is worried. Chaos ensues.

You were supposed to meet Homelander at the movie set an hour ago. Although he wanted to fly you to the set himself, you had another meeting to attend to beforehand. To calm his nerves, he gave Ashley one simple task: to ensure you arrived on time.

However, there has been no word on your whereabouts. You have all but disappeared from Vought's surveillance, and Homelander is one stray spark away from short circuiting.

"Where are they, Ashley?" he growls, his voice no longer hiding his growing anger.

"I-I don't know sir! They should be here soon!" Ashley stutters, doing her best to keep this problem under control. "They aren't answering their phone, b-but I'm sure they-"

"Where. The. Fuck. Are. They?" he snarls, cutting off Ashley's annoying yammering. He walks in front of her, arms crossed behind his back, looming over her with his foreboding height. It's moments like this that he is appreciative of his stature, to be able to put the fear of god into these pathetic mudpeople so easily.

"I-I can have the city combed for their location, sir!" she trembles, backed up against a wall. Her heart is beating out of her chest, a fact she knows Homelander is fully aware of.

Feeling his face twitch, Homelander shuts his eyes as he furrows his brow. Every excuse Ashley utters for her incompetence only serves to push him closer to the edge.

"M-maybe they'll turn up soon!" she stammers, with one last attempt to salvage the situation.

But it doesn't work. That is it. That is the final straw.

His eyes open to reveal his crimson lasers pointed squarely at Ashley's head. Her screams fall deaf to his ears, he no longer cares to hear her flimsy pleas. All he cares about now is decapitating her, and tearing the city apart to find you.

Suddenly, the rage in Homelander's expression melts away he hears familiar footsteps entering the set. His lasers dissipate before he turns around to see your face grinning up at him.

"Sorry I'm so late!" you call cheerfully, waving at him. "I got stuck in traffic, and my phone died so I couldn't call Ashley and explain what was happening! Stupid me, I thought I charged it last night!"

He strolls quickly over to you while you ramble on about your reasons for being delayed, his large frame taking up your entire vision. It doesn't even matter to him what you're saying; nobody else on the set matters anymore. All of their stupid terror has been pushed out of his mind. He's just relieved to see you.

"I hope I didn't worry you," you remark, shooting him a concerned glance. Although Homelander is smiling down at you, there is a tenseness in his mannerisms that is obvious to yourself, as much as he thinks he is hiding it from everyone else.

He bends down on one knee to be at your eye-level, an act he reserves solely for you. Anyone else wouldn't be worthy to speak to him at his level. Gently, he pulls you in for a hug, keeping his eyes closed as he feels tears begin to form. His emotions are beginning to get the better of him.

"Do you want to go to your trailer, hun?" you ask him, returning his tight embrace. Without any hesitation he nods at your question, taking in a deep breath to try and regain some of his composure. He does his best not to look into your eyes; he knows he is one glimpse away from letting his tears overwhelm him.

Wrapping his arms around you snuggly at his chest, he stands back up to his full height and starts moving swiftly back to his trailer. It sticks out like a sore thumb on the movie set, having had to be custom built to accommodate Homelander's height and weight. With one motion of his hand, he opens and shuts the door behind him, locking it to avoid any further annoyances.

The second he knows the two of you are alone, he finally lets his torrent of emotions burst. He cries into the crook of your neck as he thumbs your hair with the hand he's using to hold your head. It's a little thing you notice he tends to do when he's stressed, like touching your hair is a self-soothing mechanism.

"Can you sit down on the couch for me, sweetie?" you ask him, combing your fingers through the back of his head. Again, he wordlessly follows your request and plops himself down onto the center cushion of the couch. He leans himself back, resting you in his lap but never releasing you from his grasp. He can't let you go right now; he needs to know you're not going anywhere.

"I'm so sorry baby boy," you console him, rubbing your head into Homelander's cheek. You hate seeing him like this, especially over something that could have been easily avoided. "I really had you worried, didn't I?"

When he's in this state, he finds it so hard to get the words out of his head. Instead, he simply nods at your question while returning your nuzzle.

All of a sudden, Homelander's expression turns sour. His eyes gaze over to the trailer walls, using his X-ray vision to stare at the workers on the set. Thankfully, even though you don't have any super powers, you have gotten to know his tics well enough to understand what has abruptly bothered him.

"You hear them talking outside, huh?" you inquire. He nods, turning his eyes back down to his feet. "Are they talking about you?" you push, waiting for him to nod again.

"It's okay, you know," you reassure him, giving him a scratch along his undercut. "We'll reschedule today's shoot for another day. You're the only person who matters to me right now. The shoot can wait."

Your words are like honey to his ears. To hear someone stick up for him like you do, he wishes he could bottle you up and take you with him everywhere.

"…L-love… l-love you…" Homelander mumbles, in a voice so quiet you wouldn't believe it had come from such a giant of a man.

"I love you too big guy," you reply, moving your head to give him a kiss on the cheek before resuming your head scratches. You can feel the last of his tension finally melting away as he nuzzles himself into your precious fingers, becoming immersed in your touch.

From that day on, you made sure you always kept your phone charged before you left the penthouse.

And always Homelander double-checked.

[sailoryooons]

Carved | Four | jjk (m)

→ Summary: Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.

→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!female reader

→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

→ Type: Series

→ Genre: dystopian, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, angst

→ Pairing: 8,254

→ Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence and fighting, graphic depiction of death and gore, depictions of death (including, but not describing the death of a child and family members), semi-complex fight scenes, mentions of manipulation and power imbalance, reader purposefully seducing Jungkook to get what she wants, mentions of something similar to subspace and reader taking advance of Jungkook in a subspace like state mentally, explicit language, power imbalances and mentions of enslaved creatures, Jungkook and reader get a little violent with one another but like.. in a pleasure able way so here we go for the sexually explicit warnings, reader goading Jungkook, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, Jungkook kinda gets right too it, rough, slapping and biting, Jungkook being pretty rough and slamming reader around and shoving her into things, vulnerable mental states and manipulation, mild dirty talk tbh this sex scene is incredibly mild in terms of what I usually do, ummm I don't know guys it's a dark urban fantasy with weird shit, unedited should be a warning because I did a grammarly check and nothing else oops. ALSO PLS KEEP IN MIND THIS SEX SCENE IS BLAND BECAUSE OF THE SPECIFIC SCENARIO THEY ARE IN. I ASSURE YOU MUCH MORE DETAILED AND EXPLICIT SMUT IS IN THE FUTURE, BUT IT WASNT THE VIBE HERE

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ Series Masterlist: here

→ faq 

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HERE. Sorry this was so delayed. I was dealing with writers block pretty severely, work has been really crazy and demanding, I've been really tired and also my mentally manipulative ex-boyfriend decided to unalive himself so that was a weird week, I was trying to find new apartments and yeah this chapter has been re-written at least 5 times. Also I apologize I said fuck it we ball and this is absolutely only edited with a grammarly check. I will edit in full tomorrow but I do not have the brain capacity to do it right now, she is Tapped Out but I promised I would post this mf chapter tonight. Does any one have any theories as to what's going on yet teehee.

©2022 haliiimede. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story. Works are only crossposted on AO3. Find my AO3 here.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

/ PREVIOUS / NEXT CHAPTER /

Screams split the air. For a second, you hesitate, turning to the source of the chaos. It erupts beyond the door, startling several Vaesen inside of the room. You react first, shooting toward the door with Taehyung and Jungkook on your heels.

The sound that greets you is a symphony of shattering glass, surprised screams and varying degrees of carnage. A table flips in front of you as you enter the main ballroom. You sidestep it easily as it fractures against Taehyung, who hardly flinches before vanishing into the surging crowd of running and swarming Vaesen and Vanir.

With careful movements, you slid out of your heels, feet pressing against broken glass. It doesn’t bite or cut your skin – only real weapons can do that – but it’s uncomfortable as you take a defensive stance, aware how vulnerable you are in a tiny, sheer dress and no weapon.

Blood-slicked floors greet you. The screams of the Vaesen make your lips twitch upward slightly. Chaos has erupted in a tableau of overturned tables, shattered champagne glasses, pearl-draped demons hiding behind fractured, round tables, and a dark, wet hissing sound.

Whatever creatures have entered the room smell wrong, like honey gone sour or sweet cream curdled. Your eyes sweep the painting of chaos before you.

And then you see them.

Your heart stills for one painfully long second, stretched like skin pulled too tight over bone. They’re… seraphim but not.

The creatures have dark, pitted eyes with black veins rippling over sallow skin. They’re naked and feature no distinct gender, appearing stitched together. Their ribs are prominent and you’re unsure if it’s by design or emaciation. There are mismatched wings on their bodies, opening and closing uncontrollably at awkward intervals and angles like they don’t know how to use them - or maybe can’t.

A creature lets out a screech and cuts a vampire lord in half, blood spraying the wall like watercolor on canvas. There is a dozen of them, and they all have swords, crudely shaped but you can almost taste the adamas in the swords.

Fucking hells. They have swords of Heaven.

Jungkook appears at your side, dark eyes scanning the room as the Not-Seraphim spread throughout, cutting through screaming party goers who are unarmed beyond their own fangs and teeth. You can scent gore in the air and your blood hums: it smells like a killing pitch.

“Reaper.” Jungkook says the name like a command. The name is both yours and not yours. It is one of many names. One of many people you are. His voice slithers down your back, eliciting a shiver. He holds out a dagger. Reaper is the person Jungkook needs you to be. “Find my niece.”

You take the dagger and come alive. The hellstone throbs in your hand, metal carved from the deepest pits of the underworld and forged in hellfire. You tighten your grip and move forward.

One step and you’re in front of one of the Not Angels. It cocks it’s head and pauses, a series of clicks slipping through black, jagged teeth and a weeping mouth.  

A second step and death follows you.

Flesh burns. It singes your nose, something like spoiled flesh and rotten eggs. You can taste the sulfur as the creature wilts to the floor, body still twitching after decapitation. You bend over, snatching up the poorly made sword. It’s sharp enough, but the handle is crude and the blade is splotchy, mixed with many metals.

It hums in your hand, a pulse of power crawling through your palm and fingers like an electric current. You recognize the feel of adamas, a metal only found in Heaven realms deep in cloud-ringed mountains. For a moment your mind drifts, suspended between memory and imagination. You can almost see it: tangerine pink skies, the smell of orange blossoms, wind that is neither cold nor warm.

A creature lunges at you and the dream melts away. You duck under the blow, striking out with the dagger. It plunges to the hilt, a wet crack sounding as you puncture its ribcage. It screams and spittle flies. It doesn’t react to the knife, clawing toward you and opening a split maw of blood and black.

Cringing backward, you push with the dagger, shoving the creature away to provide space for the swing of your sword. The head severs, hitting the ground with a thud before rolling away. The body jerks, remaining vertical for a moment. Ripping your knife out, you send the lifeless body to the ground where it remains dead.

Interesting.

Another creature replaces the felled one, no weapon in hand but claws raking out at you. You shuffle backward, ducking away from the swiping talons. The creature flaps its wings once – the only one with functional wings, it seems – and surges forward, catching you off guard.

It knocks into you with the weight of a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs and you go down with the creature, it’s talons catching the flesh on your right bicep. You scream at the burn and fuck it burns. You look at where your skin burns black and wilted in three, jagged lines.

A blue-sparked flame catches your attention on the creature’s hands as it gnashes at you. You grab it around the throat, keeping razor teeth away from your face as drool and something else drips on your face. Your eyes zero in on the flame that comes and goes like it can’t control the heat on the tips of its fingers.

Hellfire, you realize.

Your mind expands, a searching radar for Jungkook. You sense him immediately, his mind like mist and rain tinged with hatred. His emotions are in turmoil, a churning storm of icy rain that bites into your thoughts and razor-sharp wind. There is a sense of no control, Jungkook’s churning storm ripping through his energies with something like feral-laced panic on the edges.

Jungkook, you call to him, feeding him your emotions as you shove back at the gnashing teeth of the creature pinning you down. He ignores you, his storm too volatile to sense you. You push harder, imagining that you’re brushing cool water down the bridge of your connection.

Jungkook flinches when he feels you. The storm pauses, like passing into the eye as the chaos settles around him. You use the opportunity to speak again. They can use Hellfire.

It takes a moment for him to respond. Understood.

Pulling away from the connection, you keep your minds tethered. The crackling energy and harsh storm stirs again when you pull from his mind, but it’s not as out of control as before, the thread between you an anchor as he refocuses on his own task.

Lightning crackles under your fingers as you shove with your hand, putting all your force into where you push back on the monster above you. The creature topples backward as you roll to your feet, movement fluid. Your dress is ripping near the throat, threatening to tear. You curse, begging the fabric to stay on a little longer.

You have no intention of fighting while spilling out of your dress.

Electricity charges in the room. Unchoked, you feel the thunder of your power looming on the horizon. Every time you call the lightning to you feels like a rush of adrenaline, the sparks dancing along every nerve of your body, lighting you up from the inside out.

This is your power. There is a moment where you consider letting it all go. You could supernova right where you stand, destroying everything within several miles. You know you have the capability – it's something you’ve dreamed of doing for years.

But it’s just a dream, and your dreams do not align with your goal.

Reigning in the urge to destroy destroy destroy, you instead focus the lightning on the creatures closest to you. The bolts let out a loud crack as you direct the energy to your targets. There is a flash and the smell of burnt skin and corpse, but you ignore it, pushing toward a forming group in the corner of the ballroom.

There is a concentration of fighting Vaesen, screaming and creatures near where you remember seeing Jungkook’s niece last. A body topples in front of you, and you step over it- later you will remember that it was a collared Vanir, naked and still tied to a chair on its leash.

You see Jihoon– he's covered in something black and slick, kicking out at one of the creatures. He has a single dagger in his hand, a retinue of guards dead at his feet, and you can hear the high-pitched scream of his daughter behind him. A single step in their direction is blocked by more creatures, hissing and clicking at you.

Jungkook appears at your side, covered in gore. His hands are black to the wrist, dripping in... something. You realize he’s fighting without a weapon.

“Are you ripping through them?”

“I gave you my knife,” he snaps. His mind brushes against yours, a torrent of chaos and loud noises and anger so hot you waver. You toss the dagger to him, spinning your new sword in your hand. “I think beheading them is the only thing that works.”

“Yeah, I discovered that thanks.”

A vampire gets turned to mist and splatter in front of you. You feel the hot blood hit your face. It smells metallic and like Synth from his last meal.

“Can you-”

You see it in his mind. The lightning that you can summon to destroy worlds. You nod once, summing the crackling energy inside of you.

A high-pitched scream interrupts you. Your eyes zero in on Kita, hiding under a table as her mother pulls the girl tight against her chest, baring her teeth. There's a red aura around her as she snaps her teeth at one of the creatures, a red arch of fire snapping out.

Fox fire.

Kita tries to imitate her mother, crying through barred teeth and a tiny flicker of flame humming around her. There are creatures closing in and you feel the snap of your power, targeting the creatures in a large area.

Power ripples in the room. You feel the urge to kill kill kill again. To destroy. To light the entire room up and burn it all down. You’ve done it before. You know the taste and smell of annihilation. You know the feeling of death brushing past you as he collects his dead.

The crack of a whip. A scream of agony. Blood in your mouth your hands your ears your neck, your arms-

You push away the desire to rebel. It burns bright, a hot coal ready to catch fire but you smother it. Pretend it isn’t there.

Rising up at the wrong time does nothing. Freeing yourself a long game. Giving in to your rage means failure, and you have failed and failed and failed and failed and -

The room flashes bright. Colors dance behind your eyes as you let go of the power. For a moment, everything is silent. The world is warped, the sulfur air charged with electricity. You feel the static tickle the nap of your neck, your arms, your mind.

You look around. There are no more creatures standing, black wisps of smoke curling toward a scorched ceiling. Dust motes float down. You stick out a hand, finger pointed as one lands on your finger. You realize it’s soot, the leftovers from the creatures you’ve thoroughly crisped.

Around the room, life – or what’s left of it – begins to stir. Glass crunches beneath feet and the sound of tables being righted sounds booming in the silence of destruction.

Jungkook and Ji-Hoon are on their knees, ducked under the table as they coax Kita and her mother from their hiding spot.

You assess the damage, eyes scanning the room and catching on golden collars. Diamonds resting on the hollow of still throats. Snapped gossamer wings under a broken body. A platinum leash tangled in a chair, its nymph counterpart missing her lower half.

There are more Vanir than Vaesen among the dead. Caught up in leashes and collars. Stuck in a brass birdcage. Shackled to a table. Your stomach turns but you don’t focus on the faces. Committing them to memory makes them mean something and nothing means anything to you.

“Reaper.” Jungkook’s voices radiates the space between you and the space unseen, echoing in your mind. You turn to look at him. He has a firm grip on Kita, the child pressed to his side as Ji-Hoon argues with his wife silently. “We are escorting them out.”

“We’re with you.” The oily voice makes you stiffen. You don’t have to turn to see Taehyung among the aftermath. You do see the kitsune lingering off to the side, his dark eyes flickering from the ashes to you. “Both of us.”

Jungkook bows his head. “They were concentrated around Ji-Hoon and none of his men remain. It’s safe to assume he’s a target. Reaper and Yoongi with Kita and Daiyu. Taehyung with us.”

Taehyung moves past you, no longer interested in teasing you. Jungkook presses close to his brother and you press Kita and Daiyu between you and Yoongi. The huli jing looks at you skeptically, holding her daughter’s hand fiercely. You don’t give it much thought, following Jungkook’s lead as he leads your group through a service entrance.

It smells like sulfur and rot. Damp air clings to your skin, forming a sticky second layer. You grimace. The clack of dress shoes is loud against the tile floors. The hall is too narrow for you to walk in groups, meant for only a few Vanir to come and go at a time. You move quickly in single file line, Yoongi at the front with Kita and Daiyu between you.

Jungkook’s mind waivers on the edge of yours. You can feel that he’s aware of you, as though he is turning over his should to see if you’re still there. You can’t see him from the back of the line, but he doesn’t severe the connection.

Probably don’t know how.

Servant corridors are long and complicated. When Jungkook approaches a split, he takes one hall over another confidently. You peek into his mind, seeing the flash of blueprints and memory of a layout on a screen.

You know the layout of the servant halls, you observe. Down your connection, you sense him flinching. You knew you would be attacked?

No. His voice is curt. His mind is a dark storm, words cutting through hissing rain. But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But what?

Focus on your task.

Your lips twitch and you feel him draw away from you a bit. But what? You wonder. He was hiding something and that just wouldn’t do. Cutting into his mind would be as easy as clipping the wings of a butterfly. But you leave Jungkook alone for now, following the dark hall, Taehyung and Jihoon’s hushed voices drifting toward you.

A small door in the hall, nearly invisible leads to a tunnel. You can still see flitting images and thoughts across Jungkook’s memory. He has no control to his thoughts, no way to block you out. He is unaware of the danger you present to his mind, laid open for the taking.

And yet you don’t.

The ground slopes beneath your feet. Your press your fingers on the wall, casting your senses. There’s damp, empty air on the other side of the wall and you can hear the hush of slow floating water. Above you, the ceiling vibrates. You’re in a tunnel in the sewers.

Your eyes drift to Jungkook. He was trained in escape routes in the building. And seemed to be one of the few Vaesen armed at the party.

Unarmed Vaesen. The thought leads you somewhere between pleasure and contempt. Only the creatures of the Underworlds could be so arrogant as to think they have nothing to fear. In a way, they don’t. Demons and their kind are the apex predators, the top of the food chain.

But even among themselves, enemies lurk.

The sheer stupidity is comforting – the knowledge that it comes at the expense of how little of a threat Vanir pose, is not.

A cool awareness brushes against the nape of your neck. You pause, the echoes of shoes and Kita sniffing silently ahead reverberating off the walls. Your instinct flickers and you turn your head a fraction, angling your ear toward the way you came.

Silence stretches and stretches. You frown, stretching out the net of your mind. It’s a strange feeling, opening that barrier and sense of other. It’s not a psychic ability as much as it is sensing energy, magic, and existence, something many Vanier and Vaesen alike can do.

At first, there is nothing but empty space. Ahead of you, your group pushes on. They don’t notice that you’ve stopped entirely, head cocked and tense.

Then you hear it – or at least perceive it. A soft hiss, the smell of death.

They’re here, you hiss down the tether between you and Jungkook. You feel his surprise and then his anger as you turn to face the back of the tunnel. Keep going and let me know when you’re out of the tunnel. If I light up in here, you’re going down too.

Good to know you care.

You scoff. I still have use for you, Dominus.

Something like irritation and resentment slithers down the connection from Jungkook. It makes you smirk, pleased at offering opposition. It’s been a long time since you could openly oppose someone the way you now can. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated one.

Sometimes you must let the monster in to give it a sense of comfort. You remember the lesson. You think about the Vaesen who so easily move about the world without weapons.

Yes, letting Jungkook see parts of you is necessary. Dangerous, but ultimately worth it.

Shuffling, stilted movements echo toward you. Sliding your feet apart and bent slightly at the knee, you wait in a defensive stance. You leave the connection to Jungkook open. As you wait for the creatures to reach you, you periodically drift to observe Jungkook and the others. They’re making quick work rushing through a network of tunnels, moving faster now that there is a threat.

Lightning will do you no good in an enclosed space. While you won’t kill yourself, the walls of the tunnel are reinforced with metal rods and bracketing, a perfect conduit for electricity. With the running water crisscrossing in the sewer system just behind, you’re positive you’ll light up half of the underground network if you try it.

So you wait. Sword in your hand. Poised.

The first creature slides into your line of sight. The corridor is dark and without light, the shapes of the bent wings in a small space almost comical. They cannot move more than one at a time, a single file line of twisted limbs and rotten smell.

It sees you and pauses. There are soft clicks, the sounds bouncing back and forth. You frown, watching as they all stop moving, the clicks drifting between them at different intervals and cadences like… a language.

They’re speaking.

Whatever they are, they have some sort of intelligence. The humanoid shapes are all wrong, but you can vaguely sense something thrumming inside of them that is both like you and not. Your stomach flips at the implication that you can sense the creatures the way you sense Jungkook stopped at a fork in the tunnels, unsure of which way to go.

The clicking stops. You turn your attention away from Jungkook, narrowing that feed of awareness tied to him to the barest thread. For a moment, you and the first creature stare at one another. The next moment, it’s charging forward faster than you expect.

You duck as the creature slams into you. The breath leaves your lungs, feeling as though you’d been hit with the force of a thick wall, but you push up with your back as the creature topples over you, sending it sprawling. Your sword hand is fast, flicking in an arch to sever the head as the creature stumbles to regain balance.

The narrow space immediately becomes a problem. The next creature is on you, teeth snapping hungrily as you back up, stepping and slipping slightly on the ichor leaking from the dead body beneath your feet. There’s no room to swing your sword, so you’re forced to twitch the blade back and forth, parrying sharp stabs from your assailant.

Just like the creatures in the ballroom, these are uncoordinated. Their stabs aren’t fast enough, joints cracking and twisting awkwardly in lurching motions as they attack. Cutting through them is difficult in the lack of space. They press in on you, making you track backward to give yourself more room to fight. It’s not ideal – you’re leading them toward where Jungkook and the others have started moving again.

“Fuck,” you snarl, tasting foul ichor on your tongue as it sprays you from a sharp wound on the neck of one of them. It bellows and claws forward.

Summoning air in the tunnel you thrust a hand out, punching toward them with wind. It rips through the halls, whistling as the air rushes past you in violent torrents. It slams into creatures, propelling them backward.

While they’re crumpled and disorganized in a pile, you take ground back, advancing on them. They clamor over one another, shrieking and twitching their wings as they regain a sense of control. You summon wind again, ready to send another blast when a raw scream rips down your mental tether with Jungkook.

It’s violent and invasive, prying open your connection and funneling unfiltered pain and wrath into your own mind. Your vision goes white for a second as the emotional tidal wave of Jungkook overwhelms you, unexpected and uncontrolled.

A spark of blue is the only warning you get from one of the hellish creatures. You barely react in time, summoning wind again at a greater force. It screams toward you, quick enough to meet the blue flame of Hellfire as it fills the hallway.

Heat scorches against air. You scream in alarm. For a moment, you think your makeshift airwall won’t be enough to keep you from being turned to soot.

It holds, a steady wind current coming down the tunnel. Dust, dirt, and mice get picked up in your vacuum, spinning and slamming into the solid, opaque wall of air. You keep your energy focused on the wind as much as you can, Jungkook’s mental screaming almost too much of a distraction as you try and close the mental door between the two of you.

But Jungkook is untrained and the son of Sariel. His connection to you is strong and whatever he’s experiencing on the other side of the tunnel system is a deeper well than you knew he was capable of.

Gritting your teeth, you dig down into your well of power. It’s always there, a bottomless pit of energy and ability to use your gifts. Some witches call it magic. Faeries call it glamour. Angels call it grace and there is a spark of it there, tiny and imperfect, but enough for you to sustain the wind and shut the door on Jungkook just enough.

Snippets rush by you. They’re at the mouth of an entrance somewhere – almost out of the tunnel system. But they’re fighting – you sense more creatures and… others. Demons. Jungkook’s rage is a storm, battering down on your connection to him and exploding out of him as he fights.

Get out of the tunnels, you demand. Jungkook I need you to at least get out of the tunnels.

There is no acknowledgment that he’s heard you. There’s only screaming wind, the song of his fury, and heat building up on the other side of your wall. You smell molten metal and realize the creatures are going to bring everything down.

Jungkook, you scream at him. There is nothing on the other side, just anger threatening to swallow him whole. Jungkook!

Nothing.

Gritting your teeth, you shift a few steps back. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat on the other side of your air wall, and you shove hard through your mental tether. You feel Jungkook’s awareness, fire and rain. He feels you now.

Get out the fucking tunnel or I will kill all of you. This is your last warning.

And it is. Jungkook is useful. Using him is easier than the alternative, and having to come up with an additional plan after killing him while trying to escape the city is far too complicated, and near the realm of impossibility.

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You feel the slick on your legs and your palms, the air over-warm. It continues to get hotter and hotter, kicking up several notches. Azure swims on the other side of the air you feed into your protect. It flares, growing stronger off the oxygen you provide it, but you have no other choice.

Silver drips from the ceiling. You look up, spotting liquified metal oozing through the earth’s ceiling.

Go. Jungkook’s voice is nearly a whisper. You realize you’re screaming with the force of the power you’re feeding into your wind. His words are like a release, a flip switching as you dive headfirst into the electric current of your lightning.

It’s an explosion. Heat and electricity meet in a caustic battle, the walls and floor rumbling as your lightning pulses from you more like a wave than bolts. You hear the crack, feel it vibrate your ears, and then there is only loud ringing as you stumble backward.

Dust, ash, and metal fill the air. You’ve brought down half the tunnel and you’re splayed on your ass.

Rolling over on your stomach, you try and push yourself to your feet. You slide in dirt and darkness. It’s difficult to breathe, the air filled with static and heated enough that your skin feels like you’re on fire. You manage to find footing and retreat towards where Jungkook and the others have gone.

Nothing follows you.

The high-pitched ringing does not leave you. A bit dizzy, you follow the thread of Jungkook’s existence, feeling the thread between you pull you toward him. His rage has turned to agony, and you know someone is dead, though you cannot discern who.

When you finally reach the surface, you understand.

There are masked Vaesen littered around an empty warehouse. You’re close to the Celadon River, the taste of salt in the air as it filters in from the sea. You cannot hear beyond the scream of your damaged ears, but the wind here is cool, coming in through a giant hole in the ceiling, freshly singed.

Similar creatures that hunted you into the halls lay in pieces. Jungkook stands expressionless, ringed by bodies. It seems the fight was centered on him, death laying quietly at his feet. Yoongi and Taehyung stand a few feet away, expressionless. Watching.

A single shaft of moonlight shines on Jungkook through the broken ceiling. It paints half of his face silver, his eye rimmed silver. The rest of his face in shadow. It’s an eerie picture, half of him light and dark, split between two worlds. A child slithers down your spine as your eyes drift away from the thunder in his expression to his feet, where his eyes are fixed and you see the source of his unending agony.

Jihoon and his family are no more.

-

Namjoon is the only other person at the apartment. You eye him warily as he stands in the living room, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the holoscreen. Images of the party flash on the screen. There are videos from security cameras, starlets filming the chaos while at the party, and media drones outside of the building as the police force descended on the scene.

Reporters stand in the carnage. There are still broken bodies of Vanir, stepped over as the reporters lead their filming drones through the rooms. You can see Vanir tied to leashes on chairs. Again, you don’t look at their faces.

After appearing from the tunnel to find Jihoon and his family dead, you were ushered home immediately. You went without negotiation, casting a single look at Jungkook. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his expression flitting between exquisite pain and nothingness.

Sensing your presence, Namjoon turns his head a fraction to look at you. His eyes harden and his jaw flexes, onyx eyes not leaving you for a second. You remember your perceived place with him, casting your eyes to the screen to ignore the way he burns holes through you with just a look.

“Go away,” he grunts. “Your presence is bothersome.”

“I’m sorry, dominus.” You make your voice light and airy. “Why has master not come home with me?”

Calling Jungkook master burns your tongue. You make yourself look small, tucking your chin to your chest and curving your shoulders inward, like you’re bracing to be hit. You play with the hem of your shirt, which is too big like the rest of your clothes.

Namjoon scoffs, not buying it. “Because he has to deal with this fucking mess.”

“I should be with master- “

“Drop the act. Whatever you are, it isn’t Carved. If Jungkook wants to keep you and do whatever he wants with you, that’s fine.” You glance up at him. He stares you dead in the eye. “But I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. Stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine.”

Namjoon leaves the room, the holoscreen casting blue light on the empty space. You listen to him go. He goes to his own room at the far end of the apartment and shuts the door loudly.

“Dick,” you mutter, entering the living room proper to look up at the screen.

The sound is muted, only showing the chaos. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name,” the apartment system responds, voice cool and clear. You recite your name. “Unregistered user.”

You snarl. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name.”

“Jungkook.”

“Voice recognition failure.”

“Just turn the fucking volume on!”

The elevator door opens behind you. You whirl on your heel, teeth bared in frustration. Jungkook walks through the door, barely sparing you a glance as he says, “Stop yelling at the technology. I didn’t program you into the system.”

“I noticed.” He walks into the kitchen, tapping the corner of a cabinet. It unlocks and pops open, revealing shelves of liquor. He removes a bottle and taps the cabinet shut. “Didn’t think you needed it.”

“Well if you’d like me to get bored and burn the apartment down, that is an option.”

“Be my guest. I have others.”

“Humble.”

Dark rage hums under the surface. Jungkook moves around his kitchen slowly. He places a glass delicately on the counter, pulling the cork from the bottle before pouring himself amber liquid. You sniff. Whiskey of some sort.

Jungkook is silent, but his mind is a torrent of emotions. Blood pounds beneath the surface, a beast begging to escape. You can almost taste the chaos within him and yet… he keeps it there. Sipping his drink and leaning on the counter as he looks at the floor.

“Namjoon thinks I should kill you,” Jungkook mentions.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yoongi does too.”

You shrug. “The way of the fox is unknown to me.”

Jungkook’s mind is wide open. You reach for it while he sips his whiskey. He doesn’t register as you brush against his thoughts, trying to sort through them. His mental is in chaos, thoughts racing through his head and flashes of his brother being cut down. Of Kita’s screaming.

“Do you know what those things were?”

You picture the creatures at the party. Their staggered steps, their rotting breath. “Something made, not born.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’ve seen a lot of creatures for the hundreds of years that I have been alive, but I’ve never seen whatever those were. Those things are not natural.”

“Most of what is in this world isn’t natural.”

“They are not natural to any plane. I felt…” You trail off and shrug your shoulders.

Navigating his mind while it’s in chaos is hard. You’re looking for the thread of conversation from earlier that night, trying to understand what Jungkook had been talking about when he trailed off about being prepared for assassination attempts. But it’s convoluted and murky.

Jungkook glances up at you. His face is a mask. You must admit you’re impressed by the way he looks calm and collected with the storm raging inside of him, threatening to crack the façade at any moment. “Felt what?”

“You didn’t feel them? Like the way you feel me?”

“Are you telling me you’re one of- “

“No,” you cut him off. “Not in the sense of they are me. But you couldn’t feel them like… dots on a radar. Little signatures of something?” He shakes his head. You hum for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air before you say, “Your untrained mind nearly got me killed.”

A ripple of anger goes through him and his thoughts become more confusing. You sense him boiling under the surface, a steady tremor building and building and building.

A frenzy. Jungkook is nearing a frenzy. If you could get him to fall into it…. you examine him. Coming down from a frenzy would put him in a state of compliance and exhaustion, making his mind open to sift through like forgotten paperwork.

You decide to incense him.

 “I mean it,” you snap when he doesn’t answer you. You square your shoulders and let your power drop into the room. “Your level of incompetence is worse than seraphim children. Total lack of discipline and an embarrassment to someone who was sired by Sariel.”

A flip switches.

Jungkook is pushing off the counter and moving toward you but you stand your ground, chin lifted, gaze cutting. His mask has slipped a fraction, lip curled. “What did you just say?”

“I said that your utter lack of control is insulting and beneath your station.”

“You are in no position to speak to me like that.”

You splay your hands. Jungkook heaves a few feet away from him. You see the wheels turning, sense his adrenaline shooting upward. You needle him further. “I think we both agreed that here, I’m in a position to do whatever I want.”

Jungkook is fast. He’s in front of you in moments, hand shooting out to grab you by the throat. You’re not surprised by the action as he slams you against a wall, sneering. But you are surprised by the giddy delight that shoots up your spine as his fingers close tightly around your base.

When he squeezes, it isn’t to cut off your air supply. You recognize the sign of dominance, the grip he has on a vulnerable part of you. It’s the most instinctual form of an alpha trying to regain the upper hand and you’re so delighted that you laugh.

“I own you,” Jungkook whispers. “Whether you want it, or whether I want to. I signed your papers. You are legally mine.”

You lift a leg and wrap it around Jungkook’s waist, tugging him toward you. He balks, hand going slack around your throat as your hips press against his. A wave of pleasure rolls through you but you focus on the way Jungkook stutters, pulling back from you.

“Yeah?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You have the upper hand, dominus?” His fingers tighten but he doesn’t respond. You roll your hips into his, feeling the confidence from a moment ago slip through his fingers like sand. “What happened? I thought you owned me?”

“You are walking a dangerous line.”

“You’re doing nothing about it.”

“What do you want from me?” he grits out, teeth clenched. He’s shaking, loss of control so near.

“You own me?” you goad. “Then fucking use me, Jungkook. You’re two seconds from a fucking demonic frenzy and you don’t even have the sense to fall into it.”

“I don’t do that.”

You lean forward. He leans away but you crowd his space, eyes searching. You notice a mole just below his flush mouth, something you’ve never seen before. It’s soft. Endearing. You ignore the observation as your mouth brushes close to his, sharing breath.

“You’re afraid of your demon,” you purr. He says nothing, breathing heavily as he watches you, pupils dilated. “Weak.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then feed the demon, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hesitate. You watch him, his jaw working and his eyes staring at you. You see the moment he gives over control to the demon part of him, pupils turning into saucers as his hand grips your throat tight. He leans forward, pressing in on your space until you’re chest to chest and his mouth is at the shell of your ear.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, why didn’t you just ask?”

Your hands go to his biceps, digging your nails in. He hisses, fingers pressing into the sides of your neck to restrict your breathing. “I thought you owned me,” you taunt. “I’m allowed to ask?”

It’s the final push he needs.

A shift happens in Jungkook. Swiftly, he drops you and flips you, slamming you chest first into the wall. It knocks the wind from your lungs, making you gasp as he crushes himself against you, nosing your ear. His breath is hot, sending chills down your spine. You grin, knowing you’ve got him going in the right direction.

You press your ass backwards into him, feeling his semi-hard cock in his pants. In his state, it doesn’t even need to be you Jungkook is attracted to. His demon side is wild, hungry to do anything to destroy, to fuck, to kill.

Demon frenzies enhance lust and violence, like adding fuel to a fire. Jungkook’s flame is stoked, his agony over his family members and his frustration blinding him as he rips the back of your shirt open, your scares and flesh on display for him.

“You want to be fucked like I own you?” he asks, voice low. “Fine.”

It's nothing new, being fucked like you’re owned. But this is different – it feels different. When Jungkook’s hands brush up your spine, they’re not violent. They’re inquisitive. Callused. You shiver under his touch, eyes shutting as he pulls the fabric of the ruined shirt off you.

Your nipples are pressed to the wall, providing friction. You give into it, letting that blissful stimulation bloom inside of you as he nudges your head to the side with his nose.

“Spread your legs,” he demands. His voice is barely a whisper. You do. “Not so talkative now, are we?”

“Is my commentating part of fucking me like you own me, dominus?”

A loud rip splits the air. Jungkook tears through your sweats, warm hands seeking the flesh of your ass. He grips your cheeks firmly, massaging the flesh as he ruts against you slightly. You moan, surprisingly not for effect but at the way you feel.

Rare is the occasion in which someone made you feel good during sex. It isn’t what you’re after, but it’s a bonus, letting Jungkook slip his hand between your legs to brush his finger through your folds. You're not dripping for him, but you let out a breathy sound as pleasure unfurls low in your stomach when he does it.

Even out of control Jungkook shows restrain. Your fascinated, split between panting against the wall as Jungkook’s skill fingers circle your clenching hole, gathering your wetness to slip toward your clit, applying light pressure as he circles the bundle of nerves.

Jungkook dedicates time to getting you worked up. His breath is warm against your ear, low grunts shooting more arousal straight to your core. For the first time in years, you’re dripping for someone. You can feel the slick on Jungkook’s fingers, your pussy warm and swollen for him as he continues to play with you.

Taking control of Jungkook’s thoughts is far from your mind now. You're distracted, fists pressing into the wall as Jungkook slips a finger into your entrance. You gasp, the pad of his finger brushing against your front wall, massaging your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you swear, seeing stars.

It becomes clear Jungkook knows what he’s doing, fucking his finger into you. You can hear the wet-slap of his hand against your pussy, worked up for him now as his clothed cock presses into your ass cheek.

“Such a tight fucking pussy,” he mutters. He doesn't seem to be talking to you as much as himself. “Cock is never gonna fuckin’ fit in here. Hmm. Oh well.”

He pulls his finger from you. You let out an angry sound, eyes flying open to glare at him over your shoulder. He pops the finger in his mouth, momentarily dumbing you as you watch him suck the shine from his finger. He doesn’t look at you when he’s done, hand working to pop the button on his jeans and tug his cock out.

When you look down, you realize that Jungkook is right. He might not fit, and it sends a little thrill through you, watching the way his heavy cock bobs against his shirt, dabbing it with precum as Jungkook only pulls his pants down enough to fuck you.

You’ve spent years tirelessly bouncing on a variety of cock and diving between the legs of mistress after mistress. Sex is not a stranger to you. Sometimes you remember vaguely enjoying a thing or two. Sometimes even when you didn’t like it, your body at least orgasmed.

Being used is something familiar – but you’re not being used now. Even if Jungkook thinks you are. Even as he thumbs the precum from the dark tip of his cockhead to spread it down his thick shaft, Jungkook isn’t in control.

You remember that as Jungkook leisurely pumps himself before brushing the tip through your now sticky folds. You press your cheek against the wall, sighing as he teases you. It feels good. You reach out with your mind, brushing Jungkook’s sightly. His walls are down, vulnerable. Your sneer turns into a loud moan when Jungkook pushes into your pussy on the upstroke.

The stretch is painful, your stomach plummeting as Jungkook splits you open. The glide isn’t slow. His instincts take over and he immediately fucks into you hard and deep, slamming your hips into the wall with his full weight with every thrust.

Jungkook fucks the breath out of you. One hand presses your face into the wall, your cheekbones and jaw throbbing with the force of it. His other hand grabs your hips, holding you in position as he fucks himself into you hard.

Pain-laced pleasure shoots through you. The sounds that drip from your mouth isn’t for show. Your toes curl and your head swims at the way he takes control, fingers pressed into your flesh, cock pressing deep deep deep.

You lose yourself in the slap of flesh on flesh and curses. He spits insults at you, and you growl in response, biting one of his fingers that strays too close to your mouth. You taste blood, grinning as the salt and iron tinged with honey pulls on your tongue. He smacks your mouth, the stinging making you trill with high-pitched laughter.

“Crazy Carved bitch,” he slurs. “Is this what you fucking wanted? To be fucked like this?”

“Fuck me harder, Jungkook.”

He presses your skull harder into the wall. For a moment, you think it might crack under the pressure. But you don’t break, and Jungkook listens, driving into you at a pace that would break anyone else. Anything else. But it doesn’t break you and it feels good to know that it doesn’t. To feel the way your pussy flutters around him as he fucks you with abandon.

So many people have tried to break you. So many. Many have almost succeeded, and yet you prevail. You keep going. You survive. You move on. You wait. You win.

Your orgasm mounts. You feel it building inside of you like the same electricity that gathered in that small hall to destroy. It coils and coils and coils. You become short of breath, sucking in hair as you tremble under Jungkook’s weight. His mind is flayed open and raw for the taking but you wait. Not yet not yet not yet.

Jungkook picks up speed. You feel his pace get sloppy and the change in rhythm pushes you over the edge. You come around him with a scream, vision going white as you hold your breath. You feel your entire body seize up, thrashing under him. Jungkook presses you against the wall, trapping you and making you take it as he thrusts one – two – three more times before coming with a curse.

The pace slows. The sweaty tension between you begins to dissipate. You feel Jungkook pull himself out, cum immediately running down your legs. His energy is lower now and when you manage to catch your breath and look at him over your shoulder, he’s swaying on his feet, fucked out expression on his face. He’s flushed, tip of nose red.

Your legs are shaking and sticky. You take a step toward him feeling the slide of your thighs against one another, made slippery by cum. You hold out a hand and he stares at it, eyes wide, expression blank. He’s in the fall after a frenzy, somewhere dazed between thoughts in his head.

Tentatively, Jungkook takes your hand. You leave the torn clothes on the floor, you leave everything. Namjoon surely heard everything, but the Hellhound minds his business as you lead Jungkook to your room. The half demon, half angel is suddenly pliant for you. Soft at the edges. Mute.

You sit him on the bed and he stares at you. Unmoving. Unthinking.

Brushing your mind against his, you feel nothing but static. The buzz of his thoughts is unorganized and sleepy. You keep the connection open, stepping into the bathroom to wash the cum from your legs, the sweat from your back and the blood from your face. You had not even realized that he split your lip.

In your room, Jungkook doesn’t move. He is listless and calm, steady breathing letting you know that he hasn’t gone to sleep just yet, but that he’s not entirely present.

Slipping into clothes and back into the room, you stand in front of him, eyes flickering over his face. Jungkook looks at you but he’s not really there. A tiny part of you hesitates. Knows that to violate his mind has always been your greatest fear of yourself.

But life isn’t fair, and you have been a slave for hundreds of years. You have suffered and you will suffer again in the future. And though you see something in Jungkook that you recognize, you know that to spare him is to admit weakness.

Pain is inevitable. Pain is constant. Pain is power.

Jungkook knows nothing of these tenants. Knows nothing of the life his mother lived before him, her principles, her heritage.

Sympathy is something you cannot afford to give him. So you push into his mind, seizing his thoughts. He doesn’t put up a fight. He hardly knows what you’re doing as you begin sorting through what’s there.

Minds are unique to each person. Though some of your fallen companions had similarities in the way their memories and thoughts were laid out, everyone had something unique. Jungkook’s mind feels like a thunderstorm at night, soft with the threat of something more. Something melancholy plays there, a tune that is familiar, but you cannot place.

You sift through the night's events. You see things through his eyes. Feel the contempt for those around him. Feel the apathy for the Vanir leashed to chairs and in cages. Feel the unfettered spark of adoration when he sees Kita. Feel the love for his brother, though you had not sensed it upon meeting Jihoon.

And there is love there. Maybe not in the form that humans or texts perceive it. But you taste the sweetness of the affection, and you understand that there are positive emotions when Jungkook looks at his older brother, no matter how complicated.

You sift through to running through the tunnels. Jungkook feels glad that he prepared. They had been worried as of late – there were confirmed movements of the rebel group Libram in the city. Confirmations of assets destroyed and vanishing members of the local government.

This surprises you. You were not aware that the rebels were so familiar with the city yet. The thought of the free cities is so distant from you that it feels odd to conceptualize that there are members of their organization in Lythos.

You follow the thread of Jungkook’s conversation with you from earlier.

But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But Jungkook had known that there was a growing presence of Libram in the city. And Belial had tortured you repeatedly for information on Libram, looking for any connection to the rebellion. To Michael. To the last remaining seraphim across the worlds.

You take a sharp breath. Jungkook’s feelings regarding Libram were wary. Laced with uncertainty and fear. You follow those thoughts, flipping through his memories looking for more information. Four assassinations on government officials. The destruction of one of the Kim’s synth mines. Liquidation of accounts that belonged to Belial through unknown methods and hackers.

For as long as you had belonged to Faustus to fight, you had kept your head down. You focused on living. Small moves and counter moves. You had not been looking for any news of Libram or their existence in the city, and until now, you had thought there weren’t many in the city. Whispers of the potential but nothing like what you’re seeing in Jungkook’s thoughts.

Carefully, you extract your mind from his and sit on the bed. With him tired and swaying, you offer him a nudge to go to sleep. He lays backwards, dark lashes fluttering shut. You watch him for a while, thoughts ruminating on the new information.

Libram being in the city is a factor that you did not calculate. You chew on your lips as you think of your next move. One way to gather the information you need would be through your Vanir contacts. You have so few. But the best way to get good information is through your Vaesen contacts, which are even fewer.

You think about the twisted creatures that killed Jungkook’s family. They did seem like... angels and demons twisted together. Like the stitching together of things that didn’t belong. Half-demons, half-angels were rare to begin with. But it was like they were trying to make something else.

Belial’s question comes back to you about Lilins. The children of Lilith herself, born from her savage rape of the Heavens, but specifically, the archangels. Unique creatures, with the perfectbalance. Enough demon blood to hide the angelic blood, and enough angelic blood to hide the demon.

The flicker of familiarity you felt when fighting those creatures sends a sinking feeling to the pit of your stomach. You look at Jungkook, asleep. He looks gentle in his sleep, lines smoothed out on his face. Round and childlike.

In the morning, you’ll go back to pretending. But for now, you pull your knees to your chest, setting your chin on top of them as you consider the options before deciding that you need to follow the sick feeling that twists your gut.

Because if you’re suspicions are right... Libram made those creatures that killed Jungkook’s family tonight, targeting Belial and his children. It puts you in a dangerous position, but also a favorable one if Libram discovers your existence and grows curious about how useful you might be.

Yet none of it relieves you. Because if those creatures are what you think they are, there are seraphim in the world that are trying to bring Lilins back to the fight. Lilins, the creatures solely responsible for bringing the Heavens down.

-

D E F I N I T I O N S

Adamas - metal made from the Heavens, favorite in weapons used by angels and fae

Carved – angels who have had their wings surgically removed and sold for ownership. The possession of an angel’s wings gives the owner power over the angel’s grace, thereby giving them power over the angel.

Collared – a Vanir who is owned as a slave. They are often identifiable by the custom collars their masters put on their necks.

Dominus – term used by a slave to their male identifying master

Huli jing - Chinese fox spirit; similar to the Kitsune

Lilins - the offspring of the First Demon, Lilith, an the seraphim, most notably with the angels Uriel and Raphael. They are the perfect balance of Vanir and Vaesen and were used as spies during the war.

Seraph - a single angel, one of the seraphim

Seraphim - species of angels associated with Christian heaven, soldiers of God

Triumvirate – the three Lords who rule the Realms – figures of the Underworld

Vaesen – creatures associated with Underworld Realms such as demons, daevas, sorcerers, vampires, wraiths, and monster-like creatures

Vanir – creatures associated with Heaven Realms such as angels, faeries, witches, dragons, demigods and any heavenly-like being

-

I am no longer doing a tag list. After several attempts to get this tag list to work and Tumblr refusing to tag correct/process the post, I just took them off. I'm removing taglists for 2023 anyways because of how difficult tagging has become (incorrect usernames, Tumblr eating tags, copy and pasting not working).

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[cartoon-brainrot]

So for the child of evil AU

I find it absolutely hilarious on how scrooge thought of Louie as his child with just 2 things being the eye color and louie just calling goldie mom without thinking about any other possibilities like "oh maybe she took in an orphan" or something

Also do you think Boyd would also be friends with louie in this AU, considering how doofus (his new profound big brother) is friends with him.

What about webby? Does she ever gets a chance to be introduced to doofus and becomes friends or do they not know eachother during this AU

If they do meet eachother and they become a friend group I wonder what adventures they would have?

Also have you ever thought of how the villains needing to help one another to take care of Louie, like let's say louie is being left with Mark beaks AND Don Karnage

SO SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY, SCHOOL’S BEEN CRAZY BUSY! I promise I’m working on all your asks <33

But yes, Scrooge definitely went on with a little more than “he called her mom” especially because he knows he isn’t the only one Goldie seduced in her life!

Talking about BOYD, Doofus and Webby, they’d definitely be a friend group! A chaotic one at that-

Doofus will be jealous of BOYD because they’re both attached to Louie, yes, but Doofus is more chaotic than BOYD, and we all know how Louie is about chaos!

They’d definitely get along, though! BOYD and Louie still meet at Doofus’s party, but this time Mark Beaks stops Doofus from setting BOYD on Louie, and fixes his code! Which, goes down the drain the moment BOYD learns how to write his own code!

Webby and Doofus are certainly interesting, because they’d surely be enemies at first, both competing for Louie’s N. 1 Friend spot, especially since they’re both new to friendship- and BOYD doesn’t really get that concept yet.

And regarding the villains…

Goldie definitely trusts Ma Beagle and Mark Beaks more, mostly because Ma Beagle is an actual mother, and knows the basics of caretaking- and Mark Beaks is easily manipulated, so Louie can make him do whatever he wants!

But if she really has to pair the babysitters up, she has the pairs picked out!

Ma Beagle - Glomgold

Magica - Mark Beaks or Don Karnage - Mark Beaks!

Don Karnage rarely gets to hang out with Louie, because Goldie knows he’s a part of FOWL and Magica because she was horrible to Lena so she does NOT trust them at all, which is why she leaves both with Mark Beaks because, weirdly enough, he’s the one she trusts more!

Finally!

This took me so long, it’s probably the longest ask I’ve received!

(Don’t mind the fact that I can’t seem to decide which style to use, I am STILL figuring it out)

(Song BOYD and Louie are singing is “All You Need” from Sofia the first)

(Also click for higher resolution <3)

(Also so sorry for the late responses, I promise I’m reading all asks and working on each one of them, school is just keeping me VERY busy)

[teagballs]

hello angel! I was wondering if you could write a Dennis Reynolds x fem!reader one shot where basically, reader is apart of the gang and has been for a while. Surprisingly, one time when Dennis was really angry, she calmed him down. Everyone was shocked the first, but slowly overtime got used to it. Dennis always ignored the warm feeling in his chest when she calmed him, but when he went on a date and got really mad and the girl tried to calm him down, he got even more angry than realised he liked reader??

sorry if it’s confusing 😭🫶

calmed | dennis reynolds x reader

read part 2 here!!

authors note: HEYOOO still alive. thank u sm for this prompt anon! tbh it was a bit of a challenge and i struggled 😭 i always struggle to write for dennis. i hope i did this idea justice cuz i love it. also this is my first iasip fic im publishing yayayay please send more requests for it im sooo deep into it rn. ive got a dee fic in the works rn.

cw: average dennis insanity ofc, swearing, mentions of D.E.N.N.I.S ing girls so yk, mentions of sex.

fic under the cut!

You can recall the first time you ever saw Dennis freak out.

"Idiots! Fucking idiots all of them!" Dennis ranted in his usual methodic tone. The gang wasn't phased, this sort of Dennis rant was something they'd become accustomed to. For you - the latest addition the gang - you had never witnessed one of Dennis' outbursts. It was probably that empathic nature or yours that made you want to act, to console him. And you did. Despite the gang's protests, once they noticed you about to leap into action. They knew it was better to just let Dennis ride out the anger and come down again. But you reached out and touched his arm. The gang collectively held their breath, expecting Dennis to bark out some obscenities in response, but it never came. The feeling of your hand on him made him turn to face you, to look at you.

"Dennis, it's okay, we'll fix this, I promise."

And he calmed. And took a deep breath.

"You know what? You're right. I can fix this." Dennis exhaled. Everyone was shocked,

"What the fuck just happened." Mac said blankly. In the whole time they had known him, Dennis had never been able to be pacified from one of these insane outbursts.

But then it became frequent, because Dennis's raging was frequent. Every time he would begin ranting and raving, you were able to calm him down. It was a voice of serene amidst the chaos. It went on for years like this, as you became part of the gang.

You were usually there hanging out with the gang when things would go wrong, and you'd be able to solve it and calm him down. But today, that wasn't the case. Today, Dennis was on a date.

Dennis was in the process of getting this woman to sleep with him, his stock procedure. But the date had been falling apart. It first started with his suit getting ruined. After dressing himself up in a nice blazer and shirt outfit, it was massacred by spaghetti after Mac spilt it on top of Dennis. Mac was haphazardly carrying it through their shared kitchen and failed to notice him.

"Christ Mac, what the hell are you doing!"

But that was okay. He could manage. He would just have to change. And although this did delay him, he could still D.E.N.N.I.S this girl. He could just say he was late because he was helping some old lady cross the street or looking after a stray kitten.

After successfully making it out of the door, he began to drive to the date. A cute restaurant not too far from his apartment, a picturesque rendezvous. But this was stalled even further by the lack of parking spaces available. Dennis groaned at threw his head back against the car headrest. After circling the block for what felt like the 100th time, Dennis decided to just park further away and book it to the restaurant. He settled for a tucked away corner of the city. Sure, it was far, but hey, at least it was a space.

Finally, after running to the entrance of the restaurant, he saw his date waiting, arms folded.

"Dennis! There you are! What took you so long?Are you.. okay? You look at a little out of sorts." Cadence spoke.

"Sorry. Sorry. Some old hags cat was- was trying to cross the road. I had to run from the other side of town." Dennis panted. He didn't expect the journey to have made him so debilitated. 'Not a perfect excuse, either. I might have messed up the wording..' he thought.

Dennis and his date, Cadence finally entered the restaurant. Dennis regained most of his breath and approached the host.

"Reynolds, table for two." He told the host.

The host scanned their notebook with a pen and searching eyes.

"Sorry, sir, I don't see anything for Reynolds here. Are you sure you booked for this restaurant?" The host replied. They lacked any kind of care for the situation, replying in a detached tone. Most likely years of working customer service had drained them.

"Am I sure I booked for- do you think I'm some kind of bumbling buffoon? Of course I fucking did!" Dennis snarled. Seemingly the frustrations from the evening were overflowing and spilling out.

"What do you take me for some kind of idiot!?" Dennis continued to bawl.

At this point, his date was getting embarrassed of his uncontrolled emotions. Cadence leaned in and touched his forearm. And maybe if it wasn't Dennis Reynolds she had performed this action on, it could have worked and soothed him.

"Dennis its okay, we can go eat somewhere else if you want?"

Immediately Dennis shook her grip off him.

"If I want? Why would I want to eat somewhere else when I made a fucking reservation here. What I want is to eat here!" He snapped, tapping his finger on the hosts notebook.

"Dennis, it's okay. We will do whatever you want." Cadence tried again.

"What I want? What I want is... well, what would you know about fixing shit! You're just..! Well, you're not.. not." Oh. And that's when it hit him.

What Dennis wanted now was not a reservation at this pseudo-rich restaurant. And he knew he certainly didn't want Cadence to try and comfort him. Her words didn't seem to hold any mindfulness or meaning... but yours did. She wasn't you. What he wanted was you. That's all he ever wanted. Everything else he had been doing for was a pathetic search to fill the void. The women he was trying to do, D.E.N.N.I.S, the dates he'd go on, the sex he would have, it all meant nothing.

All he wanted was you. A pure undivided love and something he had never felt before. Dennis had an unprofound realisation that he liked someone. Something most come to grips with in adolescents. But for him, that realisation was something he had never had. It made his heart ache and burn. He needed to act. He needed to call you and spill his heart out. Because no one was like you, and that's all he could think about as he turned on his heel and left the restaurant.

[dancingdevildemon]

"Sorry for the delay folks we had to take yesterday off due to some...technical issues but, because of that the HIGHER ups have demaned that we AMP things up....THE HOUNDS WILL BE UNLEASH." The crowd cheer at this as The announcer push button. Several screens show MASSIVE black dog like creature with white eyes and deformed bodies being let loose into the arena.

"LOOKS LIKE HOUNDS ALREADY DOING SOME WORK FOLKS. Fizzrolli IS BITTEN and Alphy wounded as WELL. IS THIS HOW THEY MEET THEIR END? WAIT WHAT GOING ON ALPHY IS BARELY DRIVING THEM BACK PEOPLE WHAT A CHAMPION.

"Jevil and Black Star out run hounds too as Roi find safety in the trees. He been chased up their by the hounds. Lucifer is seem to be fixing up Stolas after his fight with Grey."

"The hounds are out for blood today folks! Vacant and Azazel are being chased. They've been separated and OOOH Azazel taken one nasty bite to the leg. Looks like one hounds got chuck of them before they got away."

"Both Velvette and Eve are getting things from unknown sponsors. Velvette has gotten bow and arrow and Eve has gotten some much need meds. Bonnie is watching in distance all chaos that is currently going on. Thank god she made too tree." They screen over to Adam. Who is crying in Cave about his family. ".....That's rough one Folks."

"Kairi is staying at Camp it would see trying to sleep. Luckily for her and Lucifer the Dogs on the other side of the arena....for now. The Knight is showing kindness folks helping Melody with some of her founds."

"WE GOT SOME ACTION FOLKS. SEEM LIKE BUTCH ENTERED ONE OUR TRAPS. POISON LEAKING OUT EVERYWHERE. OOOH SO CLOSE FOLKS HE BARELY ESCAPES THE POISON MIST." The screen shows butch puking up poison onto the ground at edge of the mist.

"Meanwhile Jax is practices his knife throwing and archery. Hopefully he learning from also killing his partner and his partner seem to be having small break down in his camp."

"WE GOT SOME ACTION PEOPLE." The screen switches to Dandy as he being swarmed by HOUNDS. "He fighting off a whole pack their biting and claw O MY GODS look at blood spray. IS HE GONNA GO DOWN?" Dandy ends up killing all of them. "Oooh so close well I suppose....WAIT WATCH AGAIN." The screen comes back to Dandy hitting ground after taking few steps. Slowly bleeding out ALONE.

----- End of Day 2.

Tagging: @polaroidxcamera @multipalz @l-ucitiel @onepiecc @keykeepertm @hcllsraiscd @as-above-rp @radiodoe @peppy-jester @themosthatedbeing @ochtendster @grayfxce @jestamusing @lcftcult @liecoris @stolsas @tempestuous-melody @gunslinginnhogtyin @originemesis @primordialhazbin @mundanemiseries

[sunandsstars]

ONE OF THE PEOPLE

CHAPTER 3

Recom!Miles Quaritch x Metkayina!Reader

Summary: When Miles gets saved by a Metkayinan, he realises eventually they aren’t all so bad. But when his mission comes back to him, is it worth leaving it all behind? Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of wounds, Hurting animals Word count: 2k A/N: Ahhh! Finally! Sorry for any delay guys, I’ve just been very busy with exams and stuff at the moment. But here is chapter 3, thank you for all the love you’ve been showing me I appreciate you all so much!!

Taglist: @ssc7514 @blossom618 @teadrinkingcatmom @oscarpascal4eva @capitanostella @sublimedeersong @perseny @neteyamsbulletwound

Miles walked out of the hut and followed the siblings down towards the beach, admiring the scenery as they made their way. Yes he’s been to one of these islands before, but it’s so much different when he’s not actively torching down their homes. Instead of fire and chaos it’s now just..peaceful. It reminded him of the holidays he would go on during his youth with his old squad. The good ol’ times.

The sun was high in the sky and casted a reflective light across the waters which where filled with many Metkayina and oceanic creatures, he eyes the people he passed and watched as mothers held back their children from walking up to him and men glared his way. ‘That’s right, back away now’

As the woman guiding his came to a stop, she put down Tsyem from where he was perched on her hip and looked towards him ‘’come’’. Having heard that word many times by now he followed her as she walked into the water and made a series of clicking and throat sounds, Tsyem and Zaza swam up to her with grins and wagging tails, spraying water all around them. ‘What the hell is she doing’

The sounds of splashing and squeaks where heard as a handful of long necked sea animals swam up to them ‘’these are ilu, we use them to get around the water’’. Miles blinked and walked deeper into the ocean ‘’so…how do we ride these things? By bonding? Sounds easy enough’’ he reached around his back and grabbed his queue to make tsaheylu with the creature closest when he was stopped by a smaller hand.

‘’You are riding ilu for the first time, you must be slow, they get very excited’’ ___ spoke, making a hand gesture to make sure he understands to take it easy. Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, glancing towards her brothers and pointing them out when he saw them already riding ‘’now what about those two huh? If children can do it i sure as hell can’’

A slap to the arm.

‘’slow’’ ___ glared, watching him as he sat atop the ilu glaring at her, he’ll remember that slap. She guided his legs to the proper formation and used hand motions to get him to recognise her words ‘’when the ilu goes, you will put your legs like this’’ she pushed his legs out down its back until he was laying on his front ‘’they go fast, you must hold on here’’ she then grabbed his hands and placed them at the neural whips where there was already a makeshift handle then stood back, nodding to herself at her work.

‘’when you are ready you can-‘’ before she could finish, she was drenched in water, ___ coughed and glared towards where the recom sped off, but she eased her furrowed brows and laughed loudly when the current pulled him back and away from the ilu. He rose up from the water spitting out liquid and wiping his face, narrowing his eyes at the laughing woman nearby ‘’slow, did you not listen?’’

Miles rolled his eyes at the familiar word ‘’yes, I hear. My balls fucking hurt thanks to you’’ he grumbled as the ilu came out of the water and offered his queue to ride again. He decided to retry.

___ watched as the skyperson failed to give up, going again and again until he finally swam up to her with a triumphant grin ‘’HA how do you like me now?! Pandora will be my bitch soon enough’’. She smiled not understanding the words but by his tone, he seemed proud of himself.___ got onto her own ilu and called towards her brothers ‘’Zaza. Tsyem. Come swim with us through the reef’’

The two swam over with their smaller ilus and followed as the adults went into the deeper end of the ocean. Miles hesitated ‘I could swim away now, but this ilu may not be fast enough to swim past the other natives, I’m still not exactly trusted here and could be killed’

He watched as the three submerged themselves under the water and took a deep breath, going down with them and following as they swam further and further away from the shoreline. ___ looked back and smiled, leading them towards a more open area filled with many pincer fish and colourful coral. Miles looked around himself and pushed a few of the fish away with his hand as they obstructed his view, ‘’there is a cove nearby, it is deep and will take effort to swim but it is beautiful’’. Miles raised an eyebrow. Sign language? Who knew the Na’vi could be smart enough to create a whole other means of communication. 

He shrugged nonetheless, having not learned sign language at all during his career as a soldier. He felt his lungs contract suddenly and left the ilu to swim to the surface, using the animal to propel him up. ___ tilted her head and looked towards her brothers ‘’how can he not understand, or breath. What is the point of coming here if you cannot breath the water’’ she was quick to stop Zaza before he insulted Miles more. ‘’he is learning Zaza, and he was from the forest. Let him be’’.

She swam up to the surface where the recom floated to make sure he was alright ‘’you are good with ilu, but terrible with holding your breath’’. Feeling like he got insulted Quaritch glared, he may not understand very well but he understood enough to know she thought he was utter shit.

‘’you think your better than me huh?! Just because you know the land doesn’t mean you’re all powerful’’

___ decided to ignore his shouting and call back his ilu, urging him to get on again.

Two heads popped up from the surface and interrupted them ‘’Tsyem is getting hungry, I will take him back to mother’’. Their sister could only nod and wave them off as they swam away for food. ‘’we should make our way too, come, I will take a look at your wound’’ and off they go, although Miles hesitated, turning around and looking back to the vast expanse of the sea..

Colonel Miles Quaritch prided himself in a lot of things, his rank, his built body, his amazing fighting skills, but he didn’t feel prideful at this moment, never before he needed help from his enemies. ‘Fuck this is painful’. He winced and slapped the ground below him while the Tsahìk only rolled her eyes, ‘’you mentioned he is a fighter. He is weak. Look at him yap like a downed nalutsa’’. Her daughter only hummed in reply, too busy making sure the food was cooked to perfection, fish where delicate to make. 

The lady smearing paste on his fast healing wound slapped Quaritch on the forehead and he had to refrain from hissing, knowing would it would cost him to do such a thing to a woman of her rank ‘’you will not touch this until it dries’’ she motioned to the greenish paste and started to gather her materials huffing ‘’his injuries are getting better, but it will leave a scar’’. ___ thanked her mother again for her service and placed the fish onto giant leaves once they are roasted to perfection. Natsä left the murui and headed towards her own, having enough of being around someone so…blue.

Miles sighed and looked to his host in question, taking note of the wonderful aroma making is stomach growl, he hasn’t eaten in what felt like forever ‘’what is it?’’. The lady in question slid him a leaf and proceeded to eat her own ‘’payoang’’, her response was short as she stuffed her face with delicious meats and fruits not waiting for Miles to take his own bite first.

A part of him figured she may have poisoned him while he wasn’t looking but the rational side said that it would be pretty fucking stupid to do so now. If she wanted him dead she would have left him to drown last night. 

And with that he proceeded to eat, feeling the spices hit his tongue in a pleasant way ‘not to spicy, not to salty, I could get used to this’. Seeing his pleased expression she smiled, proud to have her skills appreciated. ___ took notice of the sunset and sighed, how has the day come to a close already, she still has much to teach. She figured they could stay up the night as she taught him how to breath properly ‘I still want to go to that cave after all’.

The lessons where long and gruelling, Miles was easy to teach, he was a soldier after all, but his attitude made her want to pull out her own hair. He was angry, so so angry. Miles had a deep scowl etched onto his face and his ears where pinned back. He did not like this..meditation lesson.

‘This is boring as shit. Even the science-pukes where more interesting to listen to’

He received a slap to the chest.

‘’Now what the fuck was that for?’’ His yellow eyes looked down to the Metkayinas blue and grabbed her wrist tightly to stop her slapping him again. ‘’pay attention moron, if you want to live by the water you must breathe’’.

‘’I am not a scown’’

‘’Skxawng, sk-ow-ng. And you are one. You must listen to me’’ ___ rolled her eyes and shook her wrist out of his, slowly placing one on his chest and the other his lower stomach where the now dried paste is. Miles just bit his tongue and breathed in, holding his form, and once he got the ok a couple minutes later, he slowly released the air.

‘Finally’ ___ nodded and stood up. ‘’come, I will show you the cave..uh..slär’’ she put her hands together to form a point facing up and then gestured to the water. The man repeated the word under his breath a few times while bonding with an ilu, learning these new skills will be useful. ‘If I can learn the language and earn their respect, i’ll be able to get started on my plan’

They dove under the water and sped off to where they were during the day with the kids, the bioluminescence of the ocean was more clearer and much better to see than when he was flying above water. The neon colours of blue, pinks and purples surrounded them and the fish swam across their view, showing off their beauty. The ilus they where sat on glowed and it was hard to see the woman on top of hers, ‘she almost blends into the water’

Once arriving at the bottom of the sea floor ___ got off her ilu and used her tail to swim towards a curtain of seaweed, she waved Miles over and swam right through the tunnel and out the top of an air pocket.

A splash and a heavy gasp echoed through the cave and the woman rolled her eyes, paddling over to a ledge to sit up on, patting the space next to her. Miles went over and copied her actions, bending his head as to not hit the wall of rocks curving around them. He was much too tall for this tiny space. Inside the cave the fauna was bright and covered inside the water and above them, he spotted a school of orange coloured fish coming towards him to circle his feet.

He kicked them away.

‘’AYE! Why did you do that?!’’  he felt a hard smack on the back of his head ‘’the great mother is giving us a sign!’’. The man stopped his legs from moving and let the fish come once again, ___ smiled slightly in wonder.

‘There is something Eywa wants with this man, but what?’

[scentedcandles]

i came up with a new design and info for sting hAaha ,, it's long sorry. but hey enjoy this SA attempt again.

Dr. Eggman had been planning to create a strong and powerful weapon for about a year or so in order to be able to defeat Sonic and his friends. Once that time came, he got to work and created a weapon he believed would finally help him in defeating Team Sonic, and that weapon would be called 'Project Kyo'. His name would then eventually be changed to Sting, as a result of the electric powers he held.

Sting was created using hedgehog DNA as a base, energy from the Master Emerald, and spare DNA from Black Doom/Arms. Eggman was certain that this would result in a powerful creature, more powerful than the Master Emerald itself. However, Eggman was soon mistaken, as Sting wasn't exactly what he wanted. Eggman wanted something "perfect", something powerful, and something that would obey his every rule. Sting "failed" to do any of these, and because of that, Eggman deemed him useless to his plans. Sting loathed the fact that Eggman didn't appreciate him and that he was considered "useless". The hedgehog would scold Eggman for downgrading him and eventually left the lab, leaving the scientist hopeless. After that, Sting held a disdain for Eggman for making him feel like he was useless and a waste of creation. Eggman also thought Sting was "too friendly" to even be considered a dangerous weapon.

Sting is usually nonchalant, blunt, slightly gullible/naive, childlike at times, obedient (not to Eggman or any other villains), and independent, but he does enjoy being around people. He is friendly and kind-hearted, but has a slight short fuse and can explode before returning to his calm and friendly demeanor. If he does behave rude towards others, it's either because he's extremely annoyed by that person or just angry. Sting can also sometimes be snarky and sarcastic at times, especially if he's annoyed about something. Sting can also get frustrated at himself if he can't do certain tasks right or if he isn't strong enough. Regardless of the situation, Sting would never truly give up and try to look on the bright side of things. Sting also really loves shiny things and doesn't know much about the outside world.

Sting doesn't react to many things, and if he does it's either delayed or very little. For example, being threatened does not ALWAYS faze him, and he'll just stare with a bored expression on his face or a smile. While it's not to say he can't express fear, it's very rare, and he's usually seen smiling even in dire situations. Though if it's an extremely serious situation, won't hold any type of joy.

Sting also isn't quite used to affection, such as hugs. If he's greeted with a hug, he won't push away or anything, but he'll kind of just stand there with a confused look and just let you hug him. Then after the hug is over, he'll probably just give you a little smile.

His memory isn't the greatest. If he's told something complicated, he'll easily forget at least 50% of whatever the topic is. He'll also get frustrated with himself if he can't remember and will do anything he can to make the topic come back to light.

Sting has powers and abilities that carry on from the Master Emerald, Black Arms, and some that Eggman implanted, such as laser eyes, and robotic teeth, that only show when he's attacking or biting something. He is able to access the Master Emerald powers, such as being able to nullify the Chaos Emeralds. Sting can also teleport and is able to levitate/float in the air. In fact, he's mostly seen hovering more than walking, similar to Charmy Bee. He can also use certain Chaos powers.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

This Rotten Work: Quick Update + Surprise Playlist!

Hey y'all just wanted to let y'all know that I have been sick for the past few days due to a pretty bad migraine/after-headaches brought on by hitting my head on a pipe at work so I haven't had the mental capacity to finish the last couple of chapters of edits and hit Publish on This Rotten Work. Sorry for the delay, but it should be up by the end of the week! In the meantime, I offer you a playlist for all of my poor traumatized blorbos, aka the main cast of This Rotten Work.

Excerpt:

Zell has a graveyard on the roof. There are no bodies, nothing so gruesome as that. Just flowers. A garden full of ghosts.

Attached to every plant, there is a name. Idunn. Sergio. Calli. Porter. The names go on and on, one small ribbon for every child who died in the Tournament while we were there.

These aren’t tombstones. They’re not graves. 

But they are a memorial. 

Zell took every death as his own failure, even the ones he didn’t execute himself. He took each one as his own guilt to bear. Atlas, Stebbie nicknamed him sophomore year, a sad smile on her face, and it’s an allusion he’s never corrected.

I wonder how much guilt is attached to each little white ribbon, each dead soul. Zell didn’t sit shiva for any of these souls, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t find a way to mark what they stand for.

I want to believe that there is hope tangled up in these vines, measured in petals and stored in apples. There has to be. I don’t know if I can bear it if Zell can’t find some way to get comfort.

@theredstoner101 @thetavoid @snazzy-hats-and-adhd @blufox3542 @neshatriumphs @khruschevshoe @weedpoop @thesirhandsome-tepalehuia @sillylittlecheeto @nefertittti @henrythepug @meet-me-behindthemall12 @aboutblankpages-blog-blog @artemisiaarm @profiterole-reads @marchionessdebrannas @harrietmjones @thearcaneuniversity @little-bloodied-angel @artemisbones @jacksope-lives @fleuranna @shehungthemoon @spacecatrainshell @celestedeluna @thefiresofpompeii @gerardway-jpeg @fleuranna @smokecloudsandrollingpapers @idealuk @aceumbrellaheroes @evelynhug0 @madhare0512 @fool-for-luv @nealmcclure @elposting @mikereads @corvidspectre @thanatosdetesreves @sapphicsigh @ameliapondmd @possumsmushroom @augment-techs @bricksbloggyplace @aurora-boreas-borealis @estel-eruantien @singerj2002 @chaos-from-basil @mskittypancakes18 @starsrite

[hoperays-song]

While Sing 3 is still developing can you think of the 5 things you want to see in that movie and the 5 thing you don’t wanted?

Thank you so much for the ask and I'm sorry for the delay in answering. I hope you enjoy and this properly answers your question! - <3 Gooseless

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

Ok so, I'm personally a bit of a skeptic on if Sing 3 will come out soon (or ever at this point) due to the strikes likely halting all work on it. And obviously, if they worked through the strikes, I will not be supporting the movie in the slightest due to my pure hatred of crossing picket lines for no good reason and AI being used as studios want it to be. However, I do have serval things I do want to see if/when it comes out and a ton of stuff I don't.

Things I want to see (Please Illumination, Please):

Rynny being confirmed. That should surprise none of you. This blog was started as, and still primarily is, as Rynny ship blog. I love those two so much together and I feel like it would complete Johnny's queer allegory storyline very well (ie. familial acceptance, wider community acceptance, personal acceptance by allowing yourself to be yourself). My mutual have been spammed with numerous songs that I have choreographed duets to for these two already and I would just absolutely love to see it.

Noodlemoon being confirmed. I am very vocally a Noodlemoon truther and I adore those two together. Buster's chaos to Eddie's chill would work so well and it makes the most sense for me when it comes to potential partners for either of them.

More scenes of the troupe being a family. They act like a family already and I love the snippets we see, but I would love to see more of their group dynamic. Like Mrs. Crawly is essentially Johnny's grandma at this point, Rosita being the troupe mom, Gunter being a chaotic uncle.

The gang being a family. These boys are my absolute favourite characters. They're adorable together already but I really want Johnny to call Stan and Barry his uncles. Or have Marcus refer to Nooshy as Johnny's sister (feel like that one could be slipped in easily). Marcus is an amazingly good dad to Johnny after the whole disownment thing was patched up and it's clear that whatever mandated therapy they went to is working wonders so I want more scenes of them together (and hopefully Johnny doing more questionable things, like please, let the boy pick a lock).

Gunter getting a conflict. Now, I'm not saying drag Gunter through personal hell. He has done that enough in shorts. But he hasn't faced a personal conflict in any movie yet and is the only troupe member to not do so. I think it's about time we get more of an insight into his character and I think this would be an amazing opportunity.

Things I Don't Want To See (Please No Illumination, Please No):

I swear, do not kill off Nana, Hobbs, Clay, or Mrs. Crawly. They're the oldest cast members, I know. You want more character development, I know. If you kill any of them off however, I will personally lead the revolt. They are all immortal now.

Bring back Mike. I hate him. Just straight up. He bullies a kid!!! That goes for Klaus too and Jimmy. They are irredeemable villians. You bring them back, I protest in front of your studio offices. They all deliberately hurt people, two of which used abuse of power as well. Just NO.

Create a love triangle? Jail. I hate love triangles. Partially due to it typically actually being a lover corner (two people interested in one person instead of the actual intricacies of a triangle), mainly because it's stupid. It's overplayed, in nearly every film saga it seems, and are always pretty pointless. I just do not like them in the slightest and will cry if I have to sit through one.

Do not put Buster in jail. I know we joke about the amount of felonies that man has committed but at this point, if he goes to jail, the legal system in their universe will be busy for the next century. Also, none of the teens need extra trauma. Just leave them be.

If y'all destroy one of the best queer allegories I have ever seen by giving Johnny a canon female romantic partner, I will start a fucking revolution. I literally study cultures and films and character coding, ok? Like that's my whole field of study. Johnny's story being a queer allegory is so important to me. Not only is it incredably realistic in my opinion (I cry at the disownment scene because something very similar was said to me when I came out), but almost every other queer personI talk to how has watched these movies picked up on the allegory and loves it as well. It's very well written and not subtle in a good way. It's great for starting conversations about LGBTQIA+ characters in media. ...Also, he's apparently based on Elton John according to my friend that has the character book, and I'm pretty sure Elton John would be pissed if you fucked that up.

Though, I feel like I should make a disclaimer here. My first few fandoms that I was raised in have taught me how to be an expert at ignoring canon (special shout out to Supernatural in particular). Just because it happens in a movie, doesn't mean I'm going to put that in my works. I'm a fanfic writer after all. I write what I want to happen, not necessarily what does happen according to canon.

[harwinsgirl]

The White Sheep - Harwin Strong x Reader, Part Three

What’s a Targaryen wedding if there isn’t a little blood?

(Hello all! Forgive the huge delay in posting this chapter. I got burnout from work, then I was sick, and it took awhile for me to get back to it. Part Three was supposed to be the end, but it started to get a little long, so I think we’ll tie it off with Part 4. Hope you enjoy!)

“Where is Rhaenyra?”

You craned your neck in an attempt to glance towards the door, ignoring the groan from the servant girl who had to abruptly stop applying mulberry juice to your cheeks. You had requested your sister’s presence over an hour ago and yet there was no sign of her, no word at all. Your wedding was fast approaching and considering that it was most likely going to be regarded as a travesty in future histories, you needed some semblance of support. Rhaenyra would undoubtedly be on your side and would have no qualms about being the only witness to your union. Anxiously, you fiddled with your fingernails and squirmed in your seat, eliciting another annoyed response from your handmaiden. “My princess, please,” the young lady pleaded with you, “Talyse has been sent to retrieve your sister, she’s due back any minute now. Now if you would just stay still, you’re almost ready. We haven’t much time.”

“I’m sorry Lysanna,” you said, placing your hand on hers and giving it a reaffirming squeeze. “You are doing a fine job, and I am grateful for your attentiveness. I am just…” you trailed off, your eyes flickering back to the door again, “I am feeling lost without my sister on my wedding day.”

You and Harwin had decided to be wed that night. At risk of having your father’s forces intervene, you had to act as quickly as possible. The chance of him revoking your right to marry Harwin was all too real and threatening, and after the chaos the two of you unleashed in the throne room that morning, there was no going back on your words now.

You had given the order to your handmaidens to prepare you for the event, as well as locate a septon that would be willing to perform the ceremony outside of the septs. The only guest to the wedding that you requested was your sister, who you imagined would be far too excited to witness your greatest act of rebellion to date. A handful of your servants were sent along with several trusted guards to clear a path to the creek where Harwin had asked for your hand. A treasured area to you both, you had no doubt in your mind that it would be a splendid place to marry your one true love. The arrangements were nearing completion, but your stomach had begun to sour. There was still no word about your sister, and Harwin had not checked in on you since he brought you back to your chambers.

Lysanna squeezed your hand back and smiled, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Believe me when I say princess that the other girls and I are feeling…conflicted. We are overjoyed that you are to be married, although we wish that we could celebrate on a much grander scale. If I may speak honestly, I am perfectly content with sharing this moment with you, as a friend. And your sister will be with you soon, like she always is.”

You dabbed at your eyes, silently willing the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks to dissipate. Your devoted handmaiden quickly took you by the arm and lightly tugged you towards the mirror propped against your wall. “Please, no tears my princess, not on your special day. Just look at how beautiful you are.”

You looked into the ornate mirror that was once your grandmother’s, sucking in a deep breath when you took in your own reflection. You could hardly believe that your own image could be so bewitching. Your long hair cascaded down your back, forming perfect coils and soft curls. Your dress was a simple linen gown, pale and perfect, forming gentle ruffles that looked like the crest of ocean waves. On your head you wore a crown of dragon’s breath buds and crimson roses, the only reference to your house colors that you would bring yourself to allow. Your only jewelry was the diamond ring that Harwin picked out for you himself. The berries added a natural flush to your cheeks and a darker hue to your lips. You were truly a goddess, in your own right.

“My brother is about to be a very lucky man indeed, my princess.”

An unwelcome voice tainted the warmth of the moment, like a harsh breath on a candle’s flame. You turned quickly and felt a chill to the bone when you took in the sight of Larys Strong sitting on your maroon chaise, looking entirely too at home.

“I hate to interfere with such important procedures,” he continued, his eyes lingering for too long in certain places, “but I must insist on a private audience with you. I’m afraid I have some news regarding your betrothed.”

Lysanna looked at you with wide eyes, a silent plea for you to refuse etched across her face. Reassuringly, you nodded shortly at her and motioned towards the door. “A moment please, my dear.”

Lysanna bowed awkwardly and dashed to the exit. Being left alone with Larys Strong was not a position you were comfortable being in, but you decided it was best that you act indifferent. Whatever he wanted could not be good, considering the circumstances and the timing of his visit. It was best to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“State your business please, my lord.” You said curtly.

“Never had the gift for conversation, did you princess?” Larys quipped, “and if I recall, several suitors made the same remark to your father years ago. They are fortunate to have not lost their tongues.”

“I prefer to save my breath for more important matters,” you retorted, “and it’s bold of you to make the same offense those children made all those years ago.”

“I am not in the presence of your father.” Larys noted.

“And yet you are in the presence of a Targaryen,” you said lowly, your tone doing very little to conceal the rage that was brewing inside you, “Even a quiet dragon has teeth.”

“A tongue so rarely used, no wonder it’s silver. I assure you princess, our meeting will not take long. I thought I would share a story with you.” Larys looked amused as he rose to his feet. He leaned up against the chair and looked elsewhere, as if he was trying to recall something.

“When my father was courting my mother, he took to the meadows and gathered a bouquet of wildflowers, flush with vibrance and life. He presented them to her and told her to use them on their wedding day. Quite bold of him, wasn’t it?” Larys made eye contact with you again. You felt a shiver run down your spine. How could someone living and breathing have eyes so cold and lifeless?

“Can you see where your husband to be gets his sense of pride?” He asked with a wry smile. “I also regaled Harwin with this little family anecdote of ours after congratulating him on this momentous day. And to my surprise, he thanked me for reminding him of the gesture, clapping me on the back and swiftly turning on his heel. If I were to venture a guess, I would say he was heading straight for the gardens to do the same thing for you. Quite the romantic, I know. It was only when he was out of sight that I remembered seeing quite the number of guards gathered in that very area a short time before. It probably would’ve been in your best interest if I had forewarned him.”

“Why would there be guards in the garden?” You asked, your voice sounding higher with your growing sense of worry, “and why would Harwin need to be apprised of such a thing? He has done nothing wrong.”

“Well that’s the thing princess,” Larys continued, “with all the talk that’s been happening around the court today, everyone is on alert. The king has been beside himself, seemingly with anger. Princess Rhaenyra has been confined to her chambers for the foreseeable future. Everyone who seems out of place can be subjected to a lengthy interrogation.”

“Why are you doing this?” You hissed, moving closer to him, your body shaking with rage.

“I believe I am owed a question first.” Larys bit back, his voice laced with malice. “There is something I need to know, princess. Did my idiot brother fuck you? Ruin you? Are you carrying his bastard?”

“Harwin has not stolen my virtue and I will have your tongue if you imply such a thing again.” You snapped.

“Then what is the reason for this madness? And do not tell me love,” While not nearly as foreboding as your soon to be husband, Larys still towered over you and made you feel uneasy. “Love is not a sufficient cause to dishonor my house and cast shame on my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you’ve never felt it.” you said boldly, raising your chin up as you spoke. “If you had, you would understand it’s power. And do not blame your lack of knowing on your condition, believe me when I say that ser. No woman alive could love a heart as black as yours.”

Quicker than you could anticipate, Larys’ hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed, his mouth forming a tight line as he began to push you backwards. Eventually you felt your back hit the stone wall, your eyes wide with fear. He turned your head and forced you to look out of your window.

“The windows are so very large in the Red Keep. And beautiful princesses such as yourself are usually housed in towers that afford them magnificent views of the grounds. It’s entirely plausible that you would look outside the window in search of your beloved, who had not yet arrived to escort you to your ceremony.” You struggled in Larys’ grip. He moved his hands from your neck and instead grabbed your arms, pinning you to the wall and using his body to keep you locked in place.

“It also stands to reason that you would be excitable, anxious, aflutter with energy and nerves. Now, we just experienced rainfall only a few days ago. Some of the stone is still quite wet. It would be easy to understand how a nervous girl might lose her grip whilst gazing out on her perch. A tragic end for an otherwise dutiful daughter, who had lived a fulfilling life up until the moment she decided to besmirch her own good name, and the good names of others.”

“Why bother killing me Larys? When I am to marry your brother and then we would likely never see each other again?” You gasped out, your breath returning to you slowly, “We would return to Harrenhal. Your place is here, slithering around court and spreading your poison. You and I know what it’s like to be second born. You can’t possibly be threatened by the thought of Harwin and his future family enjoying his birthright. If you ever felt entitled to the title of Lord Strong, then you might be the biggest fool I have ever met.”

“Stupid girl, not another word out of that pretty mouth.” He snarled, spit landing on your cheek. “You listen to me. My foolish oaf of a brother will mourn you. The king will mourn you. The entire realm will mourn you. But at the end of the day, you are not the heir to the Iron Throne. No stake has been made in you. The king can always father more children if he truly feels the need, but at this moment you are not worth the effort to replace. I cannot stand by like my idiot father and let some whore, no matter how royal her blood is, defile us. Time will erase the hideous blemish that you have left on my family’s name.”

“My handmaiden saw you in here with me. You don’t think she would challenge the notion of my accidental death?” You questioned. Larys was deadly serious. At the moment, he was content with distressing you physically and verbally sparring with you, but that could change in an instant. You had to buy yourself more time.

“A nameless servant in a castle as vast as this? I hardly think one more dead cunt will make much of a difference.” Larys said lowly. “Now tell me princess, have you made peace with the gods? If you are lucky, you will be meeting with them very soon.”

“Get off me!” You panicked, thrashing about wildly as you tried valiantly to break out from Larys’ hold on you. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he moved one hand to your waist, inching you closer towards the window.

“Hush, princess. Apologize for your sins. Remember your true nature. Docile. Demure. Dutiful. Go towards death with your quiet dignity.”

Just as quickly as Larys dug his fingers into your side, he relinquished you from his grip. You bolted from underneath him and quickly ran across the room, where you saw the reason for his sudden release of you.

Lysanna was holding a dagger. She was now rooted to the spot, dread now coursing through her veins from what she had just done. She had only managed to pierce Larys’ shoulder, which allowed you time to escape, but did nothing to incapacitate him. Crumpled against the wall only momentarily, he reached behind and grazed the wound with his fingers. Blood trickled down his hand.

The wound was superficial. Larys staggered forward, producing his own knife from underneath his cloak. You screamed at Lysanna, begging her to move, but she could not be displaced, her eyes fixated on the looming threat before her.

“Pity. Your death is going to be a lot more painful than it had to be.”

The blade was raised and Larys moved swiftly with murderous intent. You had stepped in front of Lysanna to shield her from any blows. For a brief second you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, not to escape from the reality of your wretched situation, but rather to recollect memories of dark brown curls, hearty laughter, beautiful blue eyes. Rushing water over river stones, a small gemstone that twinkled in the light of the moon like your very own star. A passionate kiss, Harwin’s soft lips upon your own. Calmly, you cradled those memories close, your own personal comfort in your final moment, for death was all but certain.

And then a flash of silver stepped between you and your killer.

Harwin had burst through the door and stormed in front of you, his hand snaking underneath his brother’s, deflecting the path of his knife. He used his other hand to drive his sword through Larys’ side, the sound of metal slicing through flesh and the gurgling of blood echoing in your chambers. The blade dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. You felt Lysanna’s hands grip you tightly for comfort, a scared whimper escaping her throat. While your handmaiden cast her eyes down, unable to look any longer, you couldn’t avert your eyes. Larys looked at his brother with pure, unbridled hate as he squirmed, his hands moving to steady the blade that had sunk into his side. Harwin’s eyes were full of sadness. “Why, brother?” Harwin asked quietly. His question was hollow. No matter the reason, his brother was dead to him, a ghost standing before him. A sniveling excuse for a man.

“A woman,” Larys croaked, “you threw your life away, you dishonored your father, you shamed your brother, you sullied our name, for a woman. A stupid whore.”

Harwin removed the sword from his brother’s abdomen and kicked him down to the floor. A flurry of kingsguard swarmed into the room, lifting Larys to his feet. “See that my brother is taken to the maesters. The wound I inflicted should not have been deep enough to end his life. I want him treated,” Harwin stepped forward and tilted Larys’ head upwards with a gloved hand, “so that the king may visit him himself and decide what action to take next.”

“You are not worthy of being Lord Strong!” Larys howled over the sound of his feet dragging across the floor. Cries of agony could be heard as he was led out from your room and down the hall, not from his painful injuries, and not even from knowing death was imminent. The worst outcome for Larys was knowing that he had been outmaneuvered. That he had lost.

Harwin nodded at one of the men, who then promptly ordered the rest of the guards out of the room. You quickly grabbed the arm of one of the soldiers, asking him to take care of Lysanna for you. You gave her a kiss on the cheek and sent her off to be treated and looked after. With the sound of the heavy door being shut, the room became quiet, with Harwin still being entirely too far from you. You charged towards him and sank into his arms.

“Shhh,” he murmured into your hair, his hands moving to squeeze your arms reassuringly. “It’s over with, my dear. You’re safe now. I promise I’ll always be here to protect you.”

“Where on earth were you?” You said shakily, your eyes still squeezed shut tightly as you tried to hold back tears. You opened your eyes when Harwin let go of you, reaching for a bundle that he had dropped when he entered the room.

“Wildflowers,” he said sheepishly, handing you the bouquet of white lilies and ferns. “My father did the same when he was seeking my mother’s favor. Larys, of all people, reminded me. I thought you would appreciate the romantic gesture. Hand picked them myself.”

“It is very much appreciated.” You said with a small smile, brushing your fingers over the delicate buds. “Did the guards detain you? Is that what kept you so long?”

Harwin looked at you strangely. “You know about the guards?”

“Larys mentioned something about guards being posted in the gardens. I had a feeling he was using them to delay you in getting to me.”

Harwin straightened and took your hand in his, squeezing gently. “Do not fret when I tell you this my love, because as you can see, I am unharmed. But my brother meant to do more than detain me. I had a feeling Larys wouldn’t have been suddenly overcome with our family’s nostalgic history if it didn’t benefit him in some way. I took an alternate route through the gardens and found several men waiting to ambush me near the entrance, frauds dressed in the armor of the kingsguard. Dispatched them quickly, save for one. When I went to ask him who put him and his brothers up to the task, I found he had no tongue. Without a doubt in my mind, I knew Larys was responsible. He was the only one who knew I’d be headed there. Most of the guests have been ordered to stay in confinement for the evening. It was clearly a set up. You all but confirmed it for me just now.”

Bringing your hand to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to your palm. “I swear, my darling, I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I just wanted to get to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t arrive sooner. Let me have a look at you. Are you hurt?”

��Harwin-“ you started to protest, shaking your head dismissively. In your mind, what he had just gone through was worse. The betrayal of a brother, combat within the Keep’s grounds. You wanted to glance him over and check that he was alright, but he afforded you no such opportunity. Instead, you had to stand as Harwin looked over every mark that had been inflicted on you. Bruises on your wrists, redness on your neck, indents of fingernails embedded in your skin.

Unbeknownst to you, in any other instance, Harwin would’ve insisted on storming down into the dungeons in order to stab and maim his brother for each mark that was left on your body. Even if he was too late, and all that was left was a battered corpse, Harwin would still insist on fairness, slicing and stabbing at Larys’s cold, crumpled form on the stony floors until he was satisfied.

But that was not what you needed. That is not what you would need in order to heal, and he knew that. Instead, he looked at you in the eyes and made you a silent promise to never leave your side again. He brought your wrists to his lips and kissed every inch of skin that was inflamed, repeating this action again and again wherever he saw a scratch or scrape. He finally pulled you flush against his chest, holding you there tightly as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

“I’ve heard it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, but I think we’ve been dealt all the cards we can handle. So I feel free to tell you that you are the most gorgeous creature that’s ever graced the face of the earth. I am utterly entranced by you. I cannot wait to be your husband, your faithful partner in this life and the next. I will do everything in my power to ensure your happiness and give you a life that you deserve.”

“I love you Ser Harwin,” you breathed. You pulled away from him just enough to be able to lean forward and hold his cheek in your hand. He leaned into the embrace and smiled.

Before any more could be said, Rhaenyra threw open your door with an amount of force that you weren’t aware she possessed. Out of breath, her expression wild, and blood clearly visible on her golden gown.

“Rhaenyra!” You broke away from Harwin’s hold in precisely enough time for your older sister to snake her way in between the two of you.

“Are you alright?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice ladened with concern. Her inspection of you was a lot less gentle than Harwin’s. She strode across the room and began lifting your arms, feeling your sides, frantically looking for any signs of abuse.

“Can I ask the same of you? There’s blood on your dress!” You exclaimed. You began to mirror her actions, checking for any signs of injury or ailment.

“Not mine.” Rhaenyra said dismissively as she continued looking you over.

“Not your what?” You sighed with annoyance and batted her hands away, trying to get her to focus.

“Not my blood.” Rhaenyra frowned when she saw a particularly harsh scratch on your wrist. She said that far too casually for your liking.

Your eyes boggled at her confession. “What?!”

“Care to elaborate?” Harwin said with a hint of amusement.

“You’re asking for elaboration, Ser Harwin, is that right? You want me to recount the strangest, most horrid day of my existence?” You privately thanked Harwin for asking your sister for more details because she finally turned her attention elsewhere. “I was reading in my chambers when my sister’s handmaiden burst through, rambling on quickly about how my baby sister is now engaged to her former guard, that my father is beyond pissed about it and that I’m likely the only one who gets to see this cursed union, and before I can even react my father marches on by with a swarm of guards and demands that I be locked inside until further notice. I start going mad, pacing inside the room like a lunatic, probably scaring the poor girl my sister sent to me. I command one of the guards to let me out, and they deny me. I try again, asking for a message to be sent out, and again, they deny me. I was so enraged that I-“ she stumbled off, looking elsewhere.

“You what?” You pressed.

“I bit the finger of one of the guards.”

“OFF?!”

“Not off! Not off!” Rhaenyra emphasized repeatedly. “Just enough to make him bleed, a little more profusely than I thought.”

“Sounds like you got your message out.” You said, unable to hide a small giggle.

“I’m surprised the entirety of the Keep didn’t hear that man wail like a babe.” Rhaenyra muttered.

“It was his fault for not wearing his gloves, it seems.” Harwin suggested with a smile.

Rhaenyra paused, and then wagged her finger at him decidedly. “I think I’m going to like you as brother-in-law, Ser Harwin.”

“What happened next? How did you get here?” You asked, motioning for her to sit beside you on the velvet seat.

“Father stormed into my room soon after, I believe one of the guards alerted him to the sounds of distress. He ordered everyone out and started berating me for acting like a child, his face red and taut with anger, and then-“

Rhaenyra swallowed and cast her eyes down. “He started crying. So hard that he couldn’t control himself. He was sniffling and shaking and I had to go over to steady him. I didn’t even see him cry like that when mother and Baelon passed.”

“His voice barely above a whisper, he tells me he feels like he’s failed as a father. That he hardly knows you. Us. That we are the mirror images of mother and how that has made him keep a barrier up between us, to avoid any further heartbreak. But that in doing so, he’s refused any of the happiness that loving us could bring him. He doesn’t find any fault in Harwin, and he truly doesn’t care that much about the loss of an alliance with any of the other houses. You’re allowed more freedom in this choice than say, I would be. It’s because you didn’t go to him privately, that you hadn’t confided in him that this was your heart, that he reacted so poorly. And deep down he knew it was himself to blame for that.”

“I didn’t have time to respond to his confessions.” Rhaenyra’s eyes were cold and hardened now. “We heard the screams of Larys Strong in the corridors. We walked out together swiftly and encountered another of your servant girls, who recounted everything. I turned to father and told him I would head straight here to check on you. He nodded and waved me off. If I know him as well as I think I do, he headed straight for the dungeons. Ser Harwin, forgive me when I do not offer you condolences on your miserable weasel of a brother.”

“No offense taken, Princess.” Harwin said firmly. “He deserves whatever punishment the King sees fit. Truthfully, I don’t know in this instance who would be more merciful if allowed the chance to cast judgment, me or him. It might be better for Larys to be at the King’s mercy.”

With that being said, the room fell quiet. Wearily, you glanced out the window. The night was closing in, the sun taking its leave beneath the horizon.

“Our wedding was supposed to take place hours ago.” You said solemnly.

Harwin tsked at the sound of your disappointment. “I made you a promise to marry you tonight, my darling princess. I have every intention of keeping my word.” Harwin scooped you up in arms, flashing you a brilliant smile when you squealed with delight. Rhaenyra shook her head at the two of you, even though she was smiling too. She opened the door and bowed dramatically, her arms directing you outside.

“After you, Lord and Lady Strong.”

@vainillasmil157

@gimalo135

@evyiione

[canirove]

Best friends… forever? | Chapter 26

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Masterlist

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"Finally!" Mila says, letting herself fall on the bed. "I thought we weren't going to make it."

"Same" Rúben says, lying next to her. "We should have chosen Ibiza instead of Croatia for our holidays. Less trouble."

"Ibiza is boring. And seeing our luck today, I'm sure we would have had the same problems" she laughs.

"Probably, yes."

"I'm gonna text my mum and tell her we made it safe and sound. What was the Wifi password?"

"Luka Modric ten, the L and M with capital letters, the ten with numbers."

"That guy got so excited when he recognized you. Rúben Dias, oh my God!" Mila says, typing on her phone. "You always are so cute with all the fans."

"Because I am cute" he says, hugging her the same way she always hugs him, with an arm and a leg over her.

"You actually are, yes" she says, turning her head to kiss him. "Oh, wow."

"That good was that kiss?" Rúben laughs.

"Idiot” Mila chuckles. “I was talking about my notifications, they are going wild. I have like... twenty missed calls from my agent. A few from yours. And so many texts from... Literally everyone."

"That's odd."

"Very" she says, her phone ringing on her hand. "Oh, remind me to change my ringtone. I hate it."

"But I picked it for you!" Rúben says.

"Exactly" she smirks. "Hey, what happened?"

"Finally, Mila! Where the hell have you been?" her agent asks her over facetime.

"Having a really bad day. Our flight from London got delayed twice, then we missed the car that was driving us to the town where we are staying, the one we managed to get had problems with a tire... We literally just made it to the house."

"And why was your phone turned off?"

"Oh, that's another problem we've had. Our data isn't working, I'm using the house's WiFi."

"Then you have no idea about what is going on."

"Did something happen?" Rúben asks.

"Yeah, just a little something like The Sun posting a video of you two kissing at the Etihad."

"They what?" Mila and Rúben say at the same time, sitting up on the bed.

"What you just heard."

"Holy shit" Mila says.

"How has it been? Too much chaos?" Rúben asks.

"Not really. Most people have had the same reaction we all had when you told us: it was about damn time. I've been discussing it with your agent, and we think it's best if we say nothing. There are no bad reactions beyond the tantrums from your fans who hate Mila, and it hasn't made it to many other news outlets. I'm sorry to say this, but you guys aren't interesting enough."

"Shame" Rúben laughs. "So we just... Keep going with our lives as if nothing happened?"

"Basically" Mila's agent shrugs. "Just do whatever you feel comfortable with. If you want to keep things quiet for a while, do it. If you want to post each other on social media like you always do, keep doing it. And if you want to make it Instagram official, we aren't stopping you either."

"Ok" Mila sighs. "But do we know who sold that video?"

"No idea, they aren't saying a word. Did you see anyone that day after the game? You are inside, and Rúben still is wearing his kit."

"Oh... Oh!" Mila says, hitting Rúben in the arm.

"Ouch! What now?"

"Sasha!"

"Sasha?" he asks.

"She saw us kissing! And she had her phone on her hand, she dropped it, and that's how we noticed her. We didn't see anyone else, just her."

"Why would Sasha sell a video of us kissing?"

"Maybe because she hates me? And now the paparazzis waiting for us outside the restaurant when we went out with her and Jack, make sense. She looked that good on the photos because she knew where they were!"

"Wait a minute" Mila's agent says. "Sasha as in Jack Grealish's girlfriend? You think it was her?"

"Yes!"

"Mila, that's... That's crazy. She would never do something like that" Rúben says.

"Well, she's my number one suspect."

"I'll make some calls tomorrow and see if I can find out anything else. For now, you guys just enjoy your holidays, don't let this ruin them for you."

"We will, don't worry" Rúben smiles.

"Good night, guys."

"Bye" Mila says, hanging up. "But I'm telling you, it was her."

"And I'm telling you it could have been anyone. We were a bit busy in case you don't remember, and someone could have walked behind us and we wouldn't have noticed. We didn't notice her until she dropped her phone."

"That's true" Mila says, biting her lower lip.

"Listen, why don't we eat something and go to bed, uh? You must be exhausted."

"I actually am, yes" she sighs. "A good night of sleep will definitely do me good."

"And it will make you stop with all these conspiracy theories."

"It is not a conspiracy theory."

"Isn't it?" Rúben asks, arching an eyebbrow.

"Shut up" she replies, putting her hand on his face. "Ouch!"

"I'm hungry and you taste too good" he says with a mischievous smile, grabbing her hand and starting to bite her little finger.

"You are crazy, Rúben" Mila laughs.

"For you? Yes, I'm totally crazy."

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"Mila, what are you doing?"

"Breakfast!" she says, showing Rúben the pan where she is cooking.

"And your clothes?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are only wearing your knickers."

"When there are 40° outside at 9 a.m., these are considered clothes."

"If you say so..."

"I do" she says, flipping the omelet she's making while humming some random song. Humming while moving her hips from side to side, and making Rúben feel... Things.

"Do you still believe it was Sasha the one who sold the video?" he asks, trying to think of anything but Mila's butt.

"After watching the video a few times I'm convinced it was her."

"Really?"

"Yep" she says, picking a plate from the cupboard next to her head, stretching her body in a way that makes Rúben start to feel a bit uncomfortable with his.

"I just don't see the reason why she would do it."

"She's always disliked me and wants to ruin my relationship because she's unhappy on hers" Mila says, turning to look at Rúben, the plate covering her chest.

"You should put on a t-shirt on or something."

"Why?" she laughs, going back to her cooking. "We are alone, this is a private villa. And besides, you always walk around just on your boxers. Why can't I do the same? Why are your boobs allowed to be seen and mine not?"

"Because yours are way more interesting to look at than mine, and they can cause an accident."

"I have to disagree with that. People online go crazy when you show them. They call you Booben for a reason."

"They do what?" Rúben laughs.

"You didn't know?" Mila says, putting the plate with his breakfast in front of him. Even on holidays, he still eats the same.

"I did not."

"Well, now you do. What do you fancy as a drink? Juice or water?"

"I..."

"Rúben... Hey" she says, clicking her fingers in front of his face. "My eyes aren't there."

"I told you your boobs were more interesting to look at than mine" he smirks.

"You should be used to them by now."

"I don't think that'll be possible. Ever."

"This is going to be my outfit this summer, so..." she says, picking up a couple of water bottles and her breakfast and sitting next to him.

"I'll have to try, then" he sighs.

"Good. If you show your boobs, I show mine too."

"Seems fair" Rúben laughs. "But even if I try my hardest, seeing you like this may have its consequences."

"Consequences?"

"I may not be able to keep my hands from you for too long. Especially if you start moving your hips the way you were a minute ago."

"Who? Me?" Mila says, taking a bite and trying to hide a smile. By now she knows perfectly well how much Rúben likes her hips and her butt. If she wants him to do something, she knows exactly how to motivate him.

"Yes, you. So stop teasing me" he says, threatening her with his fork.

"Ok. I'll tell my inner Shakira to chill."

"Good. But she can come back after breakfast if she wants."

And she did. She came back after breakfast, and a few more times through the day.

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