#the aura color at the start doesn't have anything to do with the story but. i like pointing it out because Reasons

[rabbitbatthing]

Your aura is... a̶n̸ ̴u̴p̸l̷i̴f̵t̶i̴n̵g̷ ̷p̶i̶n̶k̷ ...a clear sky blue!

so explorers of the spirit is Pretty Neat, huh

[astrologylunadream]

Who is in love with you +why?🧸🍑🌸♡ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hellooo it's Lunadream💌 I will show you right now who is currently in love with you and what made them so! hope you find your message🌸💫

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🍂💗

Pile 1🌸

Pile 2🍮

Pile 3🤍

Pile 4🎃

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 💕

Pile 1🌸

Sign energy: School, Heir, Sloth, Sleep, Care-taker, Sun, Venus, 12th house, 6th house, Taurus, 🛩🌹🖤🐭

🧸Your energy: Hellooo my pile 1's are very cute >w< The dreamy type, loves to take cat naps. May have venus in 12th house or taurus in 6th. I'm seeing a youthful appearance for this pile, you take good care of yourself and often engage in skin-care routines, healthy diet, ect. Make yourself very beautiful naturally💗 You have a feminine aura about you, very soft and angelic. You are very quiet at times and may seem half-asleep due to your peaceful nature. You have such calming vibes, very pleasant and beautiful. I feel like this pile have many suitors or perhaps secret admirers you aren't aware of!! I'm getting royalty from another country/land vibes~ may be a descendant of royalty or simply lots of money, the kind rich girl/boy in your social setting.🛍 Some of you are/were very popular in school. Genuine sunshine vibes <3 You just have such a sweet shining appearance, and your personality is like a little flower so graceful and delicate.🌻 Taurus, Libra, Leo, Pisces, Virgo are signs for my pile 1. You could have venus in Pisces or Taurus/Libra. You may be into the color black or feel drawn to people who wear black, like the dark to your light aesthetic kind of thing~☯💗 You love romance and dream of it often, love daydreaming and drifting off to sleep as you imagine the perfect love story. Cinderella vibes♡ Some could be year of the rat or have a pet mouse/rat.

🍑Who is in love with you: Scratch, Accident, Privacy, Rose colored lenses, 8th house, Cancer, Saturn, Taurus, Capricorn, 5th house, 🤗📌🏖⁉️ Alright my pile 1's this is someone you may know already!! Such secret admirer/hidden crush vibes rn💞 This person has a lot of scorpio/plutonian energy, very intense. Cancer, Capricorn, Taurus and Leo placements, they definitely have Scorpio somewhere in their inner planets. Their aura is magnetic and mysterious and almost dangerous in a sense. They are very private and keep to themselves, they avoid huge crowds and parties, they prefer to be alone.👤 They like being in the comfort of their own home, doing their hobbies and things they enjoy all by themselves. This person likes feeling safe, in a quiet environment, and doing whatever they want. I'm getting that they like going to the beach at night lol. They may have injuries or scars, might have glasses due to eye sight issues and this could be contact lenses aswell. They have restricted themselves from romance for a long time, they just spend time alone because they don't trust or believe in having a relationship with someone, they are hesitant to give it a try. So they just stick to themselves and do most activities alone.☹💔 They tell themselves that they don't need anyone, loner mentality. They may have had past experiences believing in love and seeing everything through rose-colored lenses and it ended terribly for them and it stabbed them in the back, leaving them with trust issues and resentment for having any sort of bond with another person. :( I'm seeing a slow warming up to my pile 1 as they finally start to fall into love again when they look at you, it's like their world is being shown in color, reminds me of the wizard of oz...😩😫💌💞 and they're like "tf is this?!?! What am I feeling rn?? Is this love?!!!"⁉️💗

🧁Why they love you: Trust, My love, Mouth, Drama, Name, Water, Capricorn, Cancer, Eros, Earth, 🆕️🟪👎📸 Okaaay I'm sensing a situation right now, you guys definitely stepped into this person's life and they were like 😳🤯🎆 It just hit them, and like this person has a lot of drama around them. So much crap they deal with and you just came in and I feel like you stuck up for this person lmao I feel like pile 1 just finally stood up for this person and just 🤚 to all those who were stirring up drama for this person💀 I feel like you were there for them when they needed it, and when everyone didn't even care about this person and you stepped in and said the truth, you said what needed to he said and your person LOVES you for that just know my pile 1 like omg they find it so attractive and just so empowering.😍😫✊ They felt like they finally found someone genuine, someone they could trust. And it made them so emotional too they felt like they could open up finally, like a new beginning for them.♡ They feel so safe with you by their side, and omg your name is a huge turn on for them btw they love your name and love saying it (and other ways too...😳) They love how compassionate you are to them and everyone who needs it💗 You ground them, and they feel so secure with you. The biggest reason they love you is because of how safe you make them feel and how much they trust you because they trust you a lot my pile 1's and this person does NOT trust easily I'll tell you that.😩 They love how you care so much for others, they know you have a big heart and this attracts them to you even more!!

💌Messages from your person: Tell me your secrets, You don't owe me anything, I wanna marry you, You keep doing this, I know your secret (What is the secret pile 1??? They're so serious about you!!🥺💍💖) Extra cards: Unheard, Mystery, Attraction, Pain, Hobby, North node, Leo, Venus, Gemini, 7th house (Literally they see a future in love/partnership with you the cards speak for themselves you guys!!)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the blossom emoji~🌸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Pile 2🍮

Sign energy: Chest, Purple, Emotions, Passion, Stage, 3rd house, Eros, Mars, Virgo, Moon, 🔮📵🎤🛸

🧸Your energy: Heyyy we have a pretty person in this pile!! Your energy is radiating I'm getting lots of Virgo, possibly Gemini, also Aries/Scorpio and Cancer for you guys. Okay so let's see I'm getting really spiritual and uplifting vibes from my pile 2's, you are so emotional and that's what makes you so beautiful🥺💖 Singing/performing may be your passion, or you may really have a thing for music. I'm seeing lots of devotion to music like I'm hearing it's your life omg, You have a lot on your mind, and you think and feel a LOT too. You are at a point in your life where you are very self critical and strive for the best, you are willing to do anything for what you love, including love itself. My pile 2 is very protective over their heart and you guys are not letting it get broken, you have an amazing talent for speaking for your feelings. Your playlists say more about you than you ever could😂😭 You love comforting voices/asmr. I feel like you have really soothing voice aswell <3 You have a lot you stress about when it comes to relationships, my pile 2 should just have more trust in themselves, trust the process take it slow and be open to recieving love because you guys deserve it and it anyone can be loved it's pile 2.🥰⭐ You have a passionate mind and spirit and you put a lot of energy into everything you do, if I could give your brain a hug I would lol it sounds so funny🤣🤣 but seriously, take care of yourself and your mind because you tend to overthink and over feel a lot🥺👌💓

🍑Who is in love with you: Yandere, Winter, Chase, Love letter, Height, Capricorn, Vertex, 6th house, Mars, Uranus,🤙😒🐈🍓 Wow... just wow this is quite the person in love with my pile 2's... where do I even start-😫🤯 Okay you guys this person is really into you I mean REALLY into you... the vibe is just almost suffocating with this person's feelings towards you. Yandere is coming through so yeah they've got extreme ride or die feelings for you guys. Virgo, Capricorn, Aries/Scorpio and Aquarius could be in this person's chart. They could be above average height or have a strange height. They are most likely taller than you, they often tower over you or stand next to you in a way that asserts dominance so to speak. This person is someone you see often, they could be a co-worker/classmate or such. They could be born in winter so Capricorn and Aquarius are likely signs for them, also you may have met this person during winter. They are head over heels for my pile 2's and definitely very into them romantically, they are very masculine by nature and act that way toward you. They express their love in a more assertive/forward manner to you. I'm getting kabedons, grabbing your wrists and chasing you down lmao this person is so into you for real. They may send you love letters often or even daily. They are super committed to you and a little clingy too, huge simp vibes🤭💌

🧁Why they love you: Intuition, Toy, Careless, Flirt, Honest, Taurus, Fire, Air, Venus, Pluto, 🐚🤲🏖🌪 They love you because of how genuine, honest and true you are to yourself and others. They are actually obsessed with this aspect of you and the way you are truly yourself. They really went with their gut and just fell into loving you my pile 2's lol this person can actually be pretty quick to fall in love I'm getting. They don't think things through and just let their feelings take over🤭 They love your feminine energy and passionate nature. Honestly this person can't get enough of you😍😭 They are in love with how you show your emotions and how strong and sensible you are with them (even if you don't think so <3). This person may have started to fall for you after being flirted with/flirting with you. For some of you there may have been a very subtle flirting but they took it so so so serious and now they're like, obsessed with you🙃 Lol they love how you speak and your voice made them fall in their seat lmaooo they love how comforting and sweet you are. And that little spark within you that always keeps you going, they really love that about you.❤ They might have realized how cool you are and just brush things off not letting it effect you all that deeply. I'm getting for the most part this person just really enjoys the chase with you and is in love with obsessing over you guys🤣 Watch out cuz just because someone loves you doesn't mean they're "the one" (be careful pile 2 I'm getting some really unhealthy obsession vibes from this person with you and this could even be someone who finds you easy to manipulate/control so always trust your own judgement!!) They got really into your giving energy/soft aura and now they're hooked.

💌Messages from your person: Stop thinking about me, Stop ignoring me, I can't hide it from you, Am I perfect for you? You can't hide your feelings for me (They are definitely thinking about you rn) Extra cards: Society, Amusement park, Luck, Words, Favor, 6th house, Pisces, Chiron, Gemini, Sun

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the flan emoji~🍮 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Pile 3🤍

Sign energy: December, Feelings, Seduction, Feet, Caution, Taurus, Neptune, Water, Venus, Moon, 🌇🔚📿🧍‍♀️

🧸Your energy: Feminine aura is prominent in this pile, I'm getting alluring siren beauty vibes🔱🖤 Such powerful seductive qualities and you guys are so attractive😫💋 May have Taurus in 12th house so Aries rising is likely. May have venus in water sign (Cancer/Scorpio/Pisces) or Venus conjunct moon placement. Some of you could love winter or winter clothing, could be born in winter specifically december. You are very charming and beautiful, ahh I am loving the vibe of this pile🥰 You are very cautious of love, it both intrigues you and scares you at the same time. You may worry about sharing your emotions so closely with another person, or wearing your heart on your sleeve. You have a heavy heart and a very fragile one, you know this so you keep it safe and guarded at all times. You don't open up from fear of being vulnerable which has led to you seeming cold or apathetic, but you do feel emotions quite strongly actually. You have a soft imagination and you wish to be beautiful (spoiler: you already are😇). You feel as if love purposely trips you making you fall harder than you would have liked. You may live in the city or love watching sunsets, you love when the sun sets and the moon rises. Jewelry looks great on you, pearls and onyx probably looks godly on you🥺🖤 Some of you are a bit of a loner type, waiting for someone to step in and say "hey why are you alone? You look too gorgeous to be all by yourself"😫😩😭💞 Omg I hope that's the person who loves my pile 3 lmaoooo

🍑Who is in love with you: Affection, High standards, Blame, Hug, Socialization, 3rd house, Lilith, 12th house, Sagittarius, Fire, ☀️🤐🤵☄ OMG I'm sensing a hot couple with you two JUST SAYING😭🥵 Omg we haven't even started yet I need to calm down!!! They got that look about them omg... they're really popular and liked by so many people it's like, who doesn't like them?! Wide smile, messy hair, dangerous eyes...💀 Omg pile 3 why am I freaking out so much this is great- Their voice makes you high that's what I'm hearing LMAO you wanna hate them but then you can't omg I'm hearing this persons a catch like others would KILL to date this person...🤯 This person lights up the room I mean set it on fire🔥 They have a way with words, and omg they have a knack for telling dirty jokes at parties and like they're so smooth about it-😳 I'm just gonna say it this person is probably really hot my pile 3 the person in love with you is HOT. But you wanna know what?? The worst part of all is they just wanna give you a hug!! They don't want a wild night or some naughty crap they just want to make you smile😭😭😭 They seem like a bad boy/girl but for you they're so sweet I can't...💓 They just wanna make you laugh and talk about your interests. They find you so amusing and exciting to be around, some of you may have a bad impression of this person. So you could be really on the fence about them, or shutting them out completely because you think they're bad news. I'm hearing "don't blame me" you may blame them for some reason!! They could be someone you like and blame them for your feelings😝💕

🧁Why they love you: Past, Magnetic, Acceptance, Passion, Dare, Chiron, Scorpio, North node, Pisces, 2nd house, 😭⁉️😟🦥 Awww I feel like they saw you and was like 🥺!! Like when you see a little cat on the street and you just melt😫💓 I'm getting fast attraction vibes with this one, this person probably fell quick for my pile 3's. I feel like they were like "wow who's this hottie?" Or something like that omg just like such raw passion🥴🔥🧲 Mars in 1st house overlay vibes~ It could have been a dare from their friends to try and win you over, but they just fell deeper in love with you😍 I feel like it was first physical attraction that led them to seeking more about you, then once they saw the deeper shades of your heart they felt even more inclined to love you!! They love your magnetic aura and how you're healing yourself from damaged emotions. They think you're so strong and your endurance is very attractive to them, they have much passion and respect for my pile 3 and just overall so much love!❤ They want to he that shoulder to cry on when you finally open up to them, and they love the true you, the emotional and vulnerable you. They love your chaotic little mind, they also really fall in love with you when you cry. It makes them feel drawn to protect and be there for you, to experience everything you are feeling. They're the type to put themselves in your shoes, just so they know exactly how you feel. They love watching you grow and heal, and transform into the the strongest most powerful person you can be.🤧🖤

💌Messages from your person: Sing to me, I thought it was all in my head, Focus on me, I wanna kiss your neck, You make me so happy (Ahhh so cute😍❤) Extra cards: Angel, Out, Cafe, Girlfriend, Innocence, South node, 11th house, Scorpio, Leo, Fire (My pile 3 they wanna ask you out on a date <3)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the white heart emoji~🤍 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Pile 4🎃

Sign energy: Accusation, Admiration, Fear, Company, Fit, Gemini, Lilith, 9th house, 5th house, Saturn,🧚‍♀️🌇✌🦋

🧸Your energy: You give ethereal fairy/pixie vibes, you probably dreamed of becoming an air pilot as a kid😆 You enjoy having people over in your home. You felt restricted in your early years by others, so you admire those who can live freely and live in chaos and fun. You desire change in your life and all you want to to have a good time, others have tried to dampen your fun and good vibes. For some you may have had an older sibling that got on to you a lot, or told you to be more responsible😞 Could have been told you don't fit in with your family, because you are different. But my pile 4 you are so special, you are like a fairy!!😉 So magical and joyful~ you are a child at heart no matter the age, and you probably believe in fairytales at least a little🤏😇💫 You have changed a lot over the years and learned so much, you have many role models. Your child-like nature is both a blessing and a curse, many people hated you for being so light and joyful. But so many people love this about you, those who gave you a hard time felt bad that they couldn't face life as bright and care-free as you do. You truly are a gift to this world⭐

🍑Who is in love with you: Ability, Inactivity, Change, Soft spot, Friends, 2nd house, 8th house, Moon, Uranus, Chiron, 💄🤹‍♂️🌻😚 Omggg this is someone you know pile 4, this could be your best friend or a friend of yours. Could be friends of friends also, lgbtq+ vibes with this person, they could totally be a friend that has a secret crush on you!!🙊 This could be a childhood friend, perhaps someone who always cared for you all along. They are deeply in love with you pile 4 and they are so delicate with you, the way they speak is like a flower so calming and still. Could be Cancer, Taurus, Scorpio or Aquarius placements. I just realized the juggling emoji with the rainbow so that's another confirmation for any lgbtq+ in this pile :D This person loves you in such a pure adorable way, they light up when you smile. And they have the means to truly heal you my lovely pile 4, I mean they could really treat you well. They want to take care of you and probably always did/do.💝 I'm getting that if this is a childhood friend situation that they always cared for you like tend to your injuries, gave you bandaids, shared their lunch, honestly so sweet😭🥺💗🩹 You guys may not have a label for your relationship or it could be very confusing for you both, "are we friends? Do they like me? What are we??" What I'm hearing. This is a very emotional and empathetic native, they are so involved in your comfort and care. They want to check up on you a lot and ask if you're okay <3 This person is genuinely out for your best interest.

🧁Why they love you: Think outside the box, Devotion, Practical, Capricorn, Happiness, Earth, Scorpio, 5th house, 9th house, Saturn, 🌅🧤🎓🗻 I think they realized how smart and capable you are and just how you showed everyone that you aren't childish in a bad way and can actually achieve whatever you put your mind to.🤗 This person is in love with your perseverance and dedication for the things you care about, they love your care-free and fun yet able mentality. They especially love how dedicated you are to being happy and creating your own happiness, that really makes them fall in love💘 They find your mind so interesting and unlike any other, your ideas and beliefs are so unique and innovative to them. You are their little box of happiness awww and they wanna take you with them everywhere they go🥺 They think you're really smart and you never stop amazing them. Every little thing you do inspires this person, and makes them fall deeper in love with you. I feel like they try to think rationally about their feelings for you, because they wanna be thoughtful and rational just like you can be. But of course you make them so emotional and just so many feelings are ignited within this person for you. They love your success and all that you have achieved with your will. They are in awe with the things you do and say, your happiness makes them feel safe. They fell in love with your bright eyes and strong personality.🌈

💌Messages from your person: Cheer for me, No one makes me feel this way, It's karma, I have no boundaries with you, I've changed (I feel like you've inspired this person to keep going and stay strong!! You have shown this person how to be strong and believe in themselves and they honestly adore you for that🥺💓) Extra cards: Show, Interpretation, Sight, Conflict, Softie, Pluto, Jupiter, Neptune, Vertex, Sun

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the pumpkin emoji~🎃 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Psst, @a-whispering-echo ! Heard you were looking for some Bad Sanses fics! Hopefully you haven't read these ones before!

Bleh by artsycloudysleepy (General Audiences, Complete)

Cross is ill and delirous. The Bad Sanses are a close-knit found family. I am not good at naming things. (Too scared to upload an old fic, and I have massive writer's block, so took a short snippet of an old one which I liked. This is not the full fic, but doesn't need much (or any) context.)

A Sinking Feeling by Nestle25 (Not Rated, Complete)

Dust has a sinking feeling in his stomach, maybe Nightmare should stay home for the day? But will he? Of course not.

The Jealous Type by DazzlingKomodo (General Audiences, Complete)

Dust and the gang all appreciated the times Horror cooked, all but Dust’s dead brother, Papyrus, who used to make his brother dinner, but now just wants to make things worse and get under Dust’s non-existent skin. Some days it was easy to ignore his voice, others, not so much. Fortunately for the phantom, control wasn’t in Dust’s favor.

The end of a Nightmare by GlitchedSouls (General Audiences, Complete)

He used to brag he was immortal, he was anything and everything perfect. Nothing could hurt him or his gang. what’s a gang to do without a leader?

Sanguine by Ghosts_Multiversal_Mindsoup (Teen And Up, Complete)

San·guine /ˈsaNGɡwən/ (Adjective) 1. optimistic or positive, especially in an apparently bad or difficult situation. (Noun) 2. a blood-red color. _________ Or: 5 times someone in Nightmare's Gang got hurt, and 1 time Nightmare did instead.

Nightmare´s Gang by Kaz_MJ (Teen And Up, Complete)

Nightmare´s gang was a group most monsters had heard about and feared. Everyone knew not to mess with them, nor coming too close to them. But how did they meet? This story is about how Nightmare started his gang and added his four most loyal members; Killer, Horror, Dust and Cross. First up is Killer.

Building your own Emotional Intelligence Toolkit with Blue by Hstaya (Teen And Up, Complete)

Having discovered Dream was emotionally manipulating him with his aura, Blue leaves the Stars and bunkers down with Nightmare and the gang. Featuring Dream not knowing anything, Nightmare knowing everything but pretending his empathy is just him feeling territorial, touch starvation and Blue singlehandedly trying to solve everyone's problems, to varying degrees of success.

We All Pretend To Be the Heroes on the Good Side (But What If We're the Villains on the Other?) by Ghosts_Multiversal_Mindsoup (Teen And Up, Complete)

Died, last night in my dreams, Walking the streets, of some old ghost town Time was thrown at the wind And now I'm searching for trust, In a city of rust A city of vampires The war hammer felt unnaturally heavy in his hands. Still, he held it up and prepared for battle. Though... he couldn't ease the weight in his SOUL. ___ Blue is sick of Ink and Dream running around without considering that he isn't basically immortal (or actually immortal, in Ink's case). Blue can't keep up with them, he just can't. So he tries his luck with Nightmare's Gang.

Without Together by yastaghr (Teen And Up, Complete)

Ink gets his hands on the soul of the AU where Nightmare's castle is. The gang is flung back to their worlds, their own code RESET but their memories and worlds not. Each of them fails to cope with this until they are rescued. Nightmare has the worst time of all of them.

Reckoning by The_Obnoxious_Writer (Teen And Up, Complete)

The three of them were sinners, killed innocents with the excuse of boredom, desperation, or hunger. And sinners deserved to be punished, deserved whatever agony that befell them. But… not all three of them exactly felt the same. Or; Dust thinks he needs to be punished for what he did in his AU, and if Horror was the one to do it.. who was he to stop him?

[lazyalani]

| Blue Lock Men × Reader

| flufffff, this is the part 2, i enjoyed bachira's a little too much lol

| Blue Lock men as songs

| Blue Lock Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

•Part 1 (Itoshi Sae, Itoshi Rin, Mikage Reo)

MICHAEL

"And All I Wanna Do Is To Fall In Deep."

"Oh Baby Look What You Started."

"Been Waiting And Waiting For You To Make A Move."

"A Little Bit Dangerous.

But Baby That's How I Want It."

"'Cause I'm So Into You, Into You, Into You."

"Got Everyone Watching Us."

"A Little Bit Scandalous."

It's really no secret that Michael Kaiser is a charming man. It's not that he openly seduces people or anything, it's just that he has this natural aura around him that lures you in. Oh he knows he's fuckin' handsome.

Michael first laid his eyes on you at a Football stadium, you were wearing a jersey jacket with his jersey number and surname, he saw it as you turned around to listen to who he assumed is a friend of yours, leaning in closely due to the loud cheers.

And boy, how he was so allured with how you stared back at him and smiled, looking at him with those eyes that tell him how exactly handsome he was. Something about you lured him back.

Kaiser was not one who was interested in the people who adore him. He doesn't really care to check who follows him, or who likes his posts, but as soon as he posted a picture, the first one who liked it definitely caught his eye. The girl on the profile picture was the same girl who had caught his eye during the game.

Kaiser didn't really bother with keeping your relationship a secret, but nor did he confirm it. His fans and the media just found out throught his random postings and stories. He likes to randomly just post a picture of you two and tag you or tweet matching lines with you.

Another thing is that Kaiser is a hard man to please and interest, so when he gets interested, he's never letting go. Oh, and what do you know, he's taking you with him to another country. He definitely does not like being away from his significant other. If he has to go to another country to play, he's taking you with him. It's urgent and sudden? No problem, he'll have an alternative way and plan for your other plans or activities so just go with him. You haven't packed yet? Don't worry, everything you need can be bought, he's filthy rich. You're worrying about getting bored when he's at practice or somewhere? Nah, you'll have his card, go shopping or something.

Being Michael Kaiser's significant other was a lot of things, but boring will never be part of it. He never forgets to show that he cares. Morning? Oh he memorizes the time you're probably awake based on the time you went to sleep and calls you to say "Goodmorning, darlin'." and "Don't forget to eat breakfast.", taking a break if ever he's in a morning practice. Afternoon? He calls you again and asks if you've eaten lunch and probably talks about new recruits being dumb shits or something. Evening? He comes home to you, craving your hugs, cuddling with you before bed, with you laying on top of him while he sits up, wearing his glasses and reading a book.

He loves it when you stare at him when he's wearing his glasses. He purposely wears them more often just to see how you stare at him. He also probably reads to you on your bad days, saying how he'll definitely make you feel better so just listen to his voice and stare at his face, he never forgets his glasses.

"Love you to my victories and back."

HYOMA

"Faster Than The Wind,

Passionate As Sin,

Ended So Suddenly."

"Like The Colors In Autumn So Bright Just Before They Lose It All."

"Losing Him Was Blue."

"Missing Him Was Dark Grey."

"Forgetting Him Was Like Trying To Know Somebody You've Never Met."

"Loving Him Was Red."

"Regretting Him Was Like Wishing You Never Found Out That Love Could Be That Strong."

"Burning Red."

"Darlin' It Was Red"

Loving Chigiri Hyoma is heartwrenching.

ended so suddenly

The first time he broke your heart was when he fell down during THAT game. As the burning pain dawned at him, his eyes locked with you and he instantly knew you were both thinking the same thing. The sound of people gasping and the footsteos of his teammates towards him were tuned out as the only thing he was aware of was the pain on his knee and the horrified expression on your face. You were heartbroken for him.

losing him was blue

The second time he broke your heart was when he (unsurely) finally ended things with you. He tell you the truth, that he couldn't bear to see you hurt because of him. He couldn't bear to see you break because he does and says things he didn't mean. He breaks it off because he knows he's trying, but it's not enough. He breaks it off because the constant pain he burdens, physically and emotionally, holds him back from loving you to the fullest again. He breaks it off because he does not want to see you cry for and because of him. He breaks it off because he knows he will just break you. He breaks it off so he doesn't infect you with his toxic wind. He breaks it off because he thinks he won't ever be good enough for you again. He breaks it off because he's insecure.

He breaks your heart because he loves you.

missing him was dark gray

Chigiri Hyoma is confused. Unsure. Angry. Sad. Traumatized. Insecure.

loving him is red

He sees you again at the bleachers with his mother and sister, and his heart that has always been beating for you, beats louder. His heart beats when you smile at him all teary, sincere, and no grudge. His heart beats when you curtsied towards him just like how you did before. His heart beats when you mouthed him a goodluck. His heart beats when he nervously apologizes and explains to you. His heart beats when you say everything's fine now and you forgive him. His heart beats when he asks for both of you to start over again. His heart beats when you said yes. His heart beats when he talks about you to his friends. His heart beats whenever he sees your name on his phone. His heart beats louder whenever he sees you. His heart almost leaps out of his chest when you say you love him.

Hyoma is like a flaming red fire, dangerous, hot, fast, warm.

burning red

Your heart beats when you see the color red.

darlin' it was red

Chigiri Hyoma is wise. Sure. Calm. Happy. Healing. Assured.

MEGURU

"It's Blue, The Feeling I've Got

And It's Ooh, Whoa, Oh"

"It's Cool, That's What I Tell 'Em"

"No Rules In Breakable Heaven"

"It's A Cruel Summer

With You"

"Said 'I'm Fine' But It Wasn't True"

"And I Snucked In Through The Garden Gate"

"And I Screamed For Whatever It's Worth"

"'I Love You' Ain't That The Worst Thing You've Ever Heard?"

"He Looks Up Grinning Like A Devil"

"It's New"

Loving Bachira Meguru was young, free, peaceful, and warm.

Meguru was a lonely kid, thus, he learned how to have fun by himself (and his monster). It's not like he didn't feel lonely or didn't care that he didn't have any friends, it's just that he didn't care enough to let it get to him. He wanted a friend he can share his fun with. Someone that could keep up with his enthusiasm with things.

He likes to spend his summer playing soccer in large, greeny, spaces.

You just so happen to be there, staring at the peaceful skies, listening to whatever was playing in your earphones, and laying on the grass. He is confused, whether you're sleeping or resting your eyes, but he wants to play so either way he still goes up to you and asks you to move so he doesn't hit you when he plays.

It's New. He thinks as he feels you watch as he plays. It's New. You don't stare at him like he's a weirdo.

It's New. You think as you watched him play with genuine happiness. It's New. You see someone who's so free. Not tainted by the darkness of being caged by the world.

"Wanna play with me?" He tests.

"I don't know how."

"I can be a great coach!"

You were decent, courtesy of Meguru. You weren't what he really wanted but he finds himself really enjoying playing with you. All because no matter how much you couldn't keep up with him, you didn't leave. You rest, but you don't leave, and that's enough for him to stick around too.

He decides he wants to get to know you.

The two of you meet up again the next day, same time, same place, same game, same talking, and same actions. The same routine goes on and on and he finds himself invested to you.

Until summer ended.

He came back to the same place at the same time, but you weren't there. He waited and he played. He took a nap and waited. It was night, you never showed up. He wasn't one to be a pessimist, so he thinks something just came up. And so he went back the next day, same time, same place. He waited an extra hour into the night, but you still didn't show up. Meguru tells himself if you don't show up the next three days, he'll stop hoping.

And you never showed up.

He was dissapointed, a bit sad too. He had thought he could finally make a long time friend. He didn't understand why you didn't show up anymore. Both of you have never even fought before. Little bickerings over food, yes, but no fightings or arguements. He thinks you weren't pretending too, he's pretty sure both of you genuinely enjoyed each others company, so he didn't really think much of it, nor did he harbor any ill feelings. He's just upset you didn't tell him anything.

He keeps playing the same place at the same time, but this time not expecting anyone anymore. He goes back to the routine of playing with just his monster. He admits, he does miss your presence. He's still upset that you left, you were his first almost long term friend, afterall. He finds himself thinking back to that summer when you were there, and felling happy but sad at the same time. It was a new feeling, he never got this sad before. Whenever he thinks back, it does come up to his mind that maybe he might've done something wrong and he just never noticed. Or maybe you noticed how he glances to random directions and smile at his monster and got weirded out too. He smiles bitterly when he realizes he got attached to you at such a short time, and that's why he's feeling so blue.

Oh, what a Cruel Summer to think back to indeed.

And then summer came again.

He comes up the field, expecting the same warm wind and empty but peaceful scenery when he notices someone sitting on the grass. He stops on his tracks when he recognizes the same back, same clothes, and same hair of his old friend.

"You're back."

You turn around to greet him, letting out a sheepish and apologetic smile. "I am."

"Sorry? Or back?"

"Erm.. Both, Chi-kun, I can explain, I promise!"

He makes this upset, pouty face and sighs. "You sound like a caught cheating girlfriend and eventhough I should be more upset, fine. Only because I'm being nice." Nah, he just definitely misses you, but he wants to keep teasing you for the time being, could be a punishment for leaving without an explanation.

You explain to him that your parents don't allow you to go out during school times. How they're very strict and how you feel very caged. And he tells you how you got him really upset and that you're his first friend. It makes him feel a lot better when you tell him he's your first friend too. The same routine with you comes running back like a ball being passed.

Meguru finds himself letting you in more and more.

And you do too.

He gets a little nervous when he tells you about his monster the first time, and was really happy when you laugh it off and says who are you to judge someone who enjoys doing the things they really want. He tells you about how he got so used to being left alone that he doesn't mind it anymore and tickles you as revenge when you tease him about getting sad when you left. He smiles impossibly wider when you tell him you felt caged because of how controlling your parents are and feel free around him. He feels the same feeling when he sees the same smile on your face. He laughs it off when you tell him sorry in advance when summer ends and tells you he'll take care of it.

He giggles at your dumbfounded face when you see him at your garden, he threw a little rock on your window to get your attention. You frantically ask him how the hell he got in and he giggles a little louder, making you shush his mouth.

"I snuck in through the garden gate!"

You feel your blood pressure rising but you couldn't stop the smile and laugh from getting out.

The same routine, same places, same times, same actions, and same smiles continous to go on. Though with the constant interruptions, you both learned how to adapt your routine to the new events.

Not even blue lock could break the same routine you've both had for years.

You learned he got bolder after the U-20 vs. Blue Lock match.

"Ah, I missed you so much. I guess I really do love you!" He grins.

Looks like both of you are going to have changes in your routines again.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

When It All Falls Down [a Frankie/Joel x f!reader fic]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us / Triple Frontier

Ship: Joel Miller x you/reader, Frankie Morales x you/reader (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, major angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Grief/Mourning, Death of a loved one, Assault, Blood and Injury, executions, Implied Suicide Attempt, Miscarriage, Loss, frankie and joel are both soft but in very different ways, cunnilingus, fellatio, piv sex, bad sex good sex all is sex, choking, pls tell me if I missed anything this one is a lot.

Summary: You live in the Boston QZ, trying to get by, when you become involved with a certain Joel Miller.

Words: 14,098 (oops)

A/N: Holy cow I started writing this almost six months ago when the show started! It was meant to be a very different kind of story but as it dragged on, it changed. Now I'm just happy to have finished it. I don't know if this fic is a dead dove but I just want you guys to be safe. Be aware that it's pretty heavy and there is definitely not a super comforting happy ending. But there is a certain kind of closure. Read at your own risk and let me know if I missed a warning.

Darkness lies thick around you when you stumble into the tiny apartment that is your so-called home. Exhausted yet wired, you take your time washing, and having a drink, knowing you can't fall asleep anyway until you take the two pills you got from the dealer with the salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He has an aura of danger around him, but you've never felt afraid so far. You carry an assault rifle, after all. He's surely armed as well but yours is fully visible, and your fatigues and ravaged face will let surely let him know that you are a force to be reckoned with.

Eventually, you find yourself drawn towards the narrow bed. You pick up the bottle of liquor that was no doubt made in a toilet, shake out the precious pills from a small plastic bag in your breast pocket, and down them with some generous gulps of the piss-colored liquid. It burns its way down your throat, warms your belly, and with a deep sigh, your collapse on the bed. As you look up at the ceiling, you see the flaking paint dance before your eyes, not from the drugs and the alcohol, but from sheer exhaustion. You turn onto your side and press your eyes shut and make your brain go blank.

Almost asleep, you hear the front door open and close. Too groggy to care about making sure it's not an intruder, you immediately recognize the footsteps anyway. They echo the tiredness you feel in your body, and the mattress dips heavily when your husband lies down next to you. You scoot back clumsily, longing to see him. His face is lined with the same hard years as yours is, but he has managed to preserve a glow of humanity in his kind eyes. You love that for him, and now you find yourself smiling.

"Hi," he smiles back, touching your cheek with calloused fingers.

"Hi."

"I missed you."

"I missed you."

"Are you okay?"

You nod, and a sad kind of mirth flashes by in Frankie's eyes.

"Liar."

"I feel better now that you're here."

"Me too."

You raise your hand to his cheek, mirroring his gentle caressing of your skin. His scratchy beard is growing long enough to almost cover the bald spots along his jawline, but your thumb finds them nevertheless.

"Will you shave tomorrow?" you ask, feeling an inexplicable desire to see those spots, kiss them like you used to back when the world was normal and he kept his facial hair a little tidier.

"Just so that you can point out to me that I'm unable to grow a beard?"

"That's not it at all..."

"We'll see, sweetheart. Now sleep."

You touch your forehead to his, and only then can you let yourself be dragged under by the pills.

///

The sun is beating down from a clear blue sky. Your mouth is filled with cotton, and it doesn't make it any better that the smoke from the burning bodies is somehow finding its way to your tower. The smell of burning flesh should make you gag, but it doesn't, not anymore. The smoke, however, irritates your lungs.

"Goddammit," you hear Peters, your guard partner for the day, cough behind you. "We need a big fucking fan."

"Rain would be better," you reply, looking around you, seeing nothing but blue skies.

"Rain just impregnates the smell into the clothes."

He's right, of course, but you still wouldn't mind rain. Looking around you in the guard tower, you stop when you notice movement some distance away. Frowning, you stop still and wait to see it again.

"You got something?" Peters asks, having noticed the change in your posture.

"I got something," you confirm in a mumble. He lifts his rifle to look through the scope, searching for a moment before finding it.

"That's a goner," he shakes his head as he lowers the weapon. You grab the walkie at your belt and call it in. Soon after, a trio of soldiers appear on the other side of the wall. They close in on the wandering figure and shot rings out. You watch indifferently as the figure drops where it stands. Shortly after, your walkie crackles, and the kill is confirmed.

Peters coughs again, and the day continues in the same manner.

When you're relieved of your watch, your closest superior wants to speak to you.

"FEDRA HQ is sending us more soldiers," he tells you, ”So we won't be needing you at the moment. Report at the job office."

You merely nod. There is nothing to say, and you know that you were on watch duty by necessity only. You were never a soldier, Frankie was. When the world went to shit, he taught you everything he knew, and he knew a lot. You went from never having touched a gun to a weapons expert in six months. Your sinister competence was probably the only reason you were still alive.

You relinquish your rifle, missing the heavy weight of it in your hands, and change into civilian clothes. There is no hurry to take a new job, nobody is keeping tabs on you, but you are used to keeping busy. The alternative is going back to your so-called home and spend the rest of the day doing nothing by yourself. And that is not an option.

You draw the worst number imaginable: arrival clinic. The place where new arrivals either get checked for infectious diseases, or receive a lethal injection that kills them immediately. You'd much rather be burning bodies. At least those are covered, and already dead. It's a lot worse trying to avoid looking a person in their despairing eyes right before you stick a deadly needle into their arm.

It's just a job, you remind yourself as you're changing into medical scrubs and a face mask. You've done it before, so you just nod at the medical officer and start to make yourself useful. The uninfected ones have to undergo tests that you find intrusive, but you don't think about that.

A new patient is rolled in on a gurney: a young woman. She's softly sobbing, a sound which does not affect you, but then you hear the quiet whimper and realize that she's holding a swaddled baby in her arms. You stop still, stomach dropping and filling with ice.

"The baby is sick," the medical officer explains briefly, and you know what that means: there's something else ailing it, not infection. You see the officer prepare a syringe, and  know what it means: the mother is infected, and must be disposed of. Despite how revolting you find your actions, you still take the baby from the protesting mother.

"No, please, I have to hold her, she's sick, please, don't take her from me..."

You swallow hard, unwanted images flashing through your head. It becomes a little difficult to breathe as you take the baby out of the room, ignoring the mother's pleas that are turning louder and more desperate. You look down at the baby and see from its dull eyes that it is not well. Unswaddling it, you find that it is looking malnourished, and is burning up with fever. The thermometer reveals a temperature of 103.

It's a miracle this baby is still alive, but you can tell it won't be for long.

You leave it in the plastic bassinet and re-enter the procedure room, where the mother is dozing off. Her face is shining with tears. She's younger than you, maybe the same age you were when...

"The baby?" the officer asks without looking up.

"High fever. Dehydrated and malnourished," you tell him bluntly. He nods.

"Better to let it go to sleep. We don't have the resources anyway."

You don't question it, you just prepare the injection and administer it yourself. More fuel for the fire that's stinking up someone else's lungs now.

///

It's dark when you're let off your shift. On heavy feet, you drag yourself home. No interest in food or hygiene, you plop down on the threadbare couch and start to drink. For every time you raise the bottle to your lips, the sound of the crying mother is turned down a little in your head. You decide to not stop drinking until either the bottle is empty, or Frankie comes home. Luckily for your liver, Frankie arrives not long after.

Blearily, you look up at him, expecting scorn but receiving sympathy. How does he do it, how does he remain so humane?

"Rough day?" he asks quietly. You rub your neck with a joyless bark.

"Every day is rough now."

"I'll get you your pills."

He comes back with two of them, but you shake your head.

"Three," you mumble throatily. You crave oblivion tonight.

"Not with liquor."

You grunt in dissatisfaction but accept the two pills, down them with yet another gulp of toilet booze, and relinquish the bottle to Frankie. He puts it to the side table and offers you his hand.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

He holds you as the world dances, kisses your clammy forehead as he lays you down on the bed.

"I'm not up for this anymore, Frankie," you tell him quietly, speaking words that you can barely allow yourself to even think. "I'm not strong enough."

"Of course you are," your husband tells you gently, stroking the hair out of your face. "You are way stronger than I ever was. You were always the backbone of our family, my love. You suffered through all those years when I was overseas. You held everything together when I was on my coke adventure. You found the strength to forgive me and take me back."

You giggle drunkenly.

"That sounds like a kids' movie. Francisco's great coke adventure."

He scoffs. "Not a movie I'd let my kids watch."

Your mirth disappears just as fast as it came, and now your eyes fill with tears. Being reminded of kids with Frankie breaks your already shattered heart.

"She would have been fifteen now..." you start to sob, hiding your face in the lumpy pillow. Frankie sighs deeply.

"I know. I miss her too. I think about her every day."

Your body starts to shake as you remember the lifeless weight of your baby in your arms.

"I don't want to do this anymore," you break down, shaking and crying into the pillow as your hands fist into the sheets. "I'm done, I can't do it!"

Frankie watches you patiently as he softly caresses your back, letting you cry it out without saying anything. It's not your first time and it won't be your last.

When you finally fall asleep, your head aches from both the crying and the beginning of a hangover, and you have lost your voice from screaming into the pillow.

///

The days keep coming, one after the other, with never-ending relentlessness. You go to your designation at the clinic, put your work in, return home, sometimes by way of the rations office. When you run out of pills, you seek out the man who resembles a graying yet still fierce watchdog. Meeting him in a secluded backyard, you ask for the usual amount but find out that he's all out.

"When are you getting more?" you ask, fingertips tapping together in your pocket at the thought of the sleepless nights you are sure to have until you can get your hands on more drugs.

"Unclear at the moment."

"When will there be clarity?" you bark, annoyed at the non-answer. He towers above you, as if reminding you of his size.

"Do we have a problem?"

"No," you mutter, in no mood to start a fight despite your desperation. He nods in agreement.

"Good." He pauses, before adding: "Check back in a few days."

Abruptly, you spin around on your heel, and leave. On your way back to your apartment building you notice after a while that you are being followed. Slinking into a narrow passage between two buildings, you hide behind a couple of trash cans, crouching low as you pull a knife from your boot. You don't have your gun; bringing it with you to work is too risky, you would be arrested if a FEDRA agent found it on you.

The sounds of voices and heavily booted feet come closer. At least three men are talking amongst themselves about you. One voice sounds familiar: it belongs to an absolute asshole who has been on you before for working for FEDRA.

Shit. You press yourself against the cold wall, hoping they'll pass by. You have no chance of fighting them all, and you don't want to know what they'd do to you if they got their hands on you.

You are about to find out. The steps come closer, and then one of them is standing right in front of you. You slash at his legs, feeling the impact before he kicks at you, his boot hitting your arm that you managed to raise to shield your face, but the momentum brings your arm up to your face, and you're knocked down on the ground. The knife clatters somewhere next to you but you don't know where, and in the next second you're curling up on your side, gasping for air from the kick you received to your stomach.

"You fucking cunt!"

The pain is blinding but when the second kick comes, you manage to wrap your arms around the foot. Twisting your aching body, you pull your attacker down. Next thing you know, you are being battered with kicks from several feet, and you make yourself as small as possible, try to protect your head.

You are pulled up and slammed into the wall. Spitting blood, you try to focus your gaze on your assailants, but your vision is blurry and impaired by a quickly swelling eye.

"You'll regret this."

Hands close around your neck, cutting off your air supply. Panic rises in you, floods your limbs, making you kick and flail with your last ounces of strength, choked protests pressing out between your lips.

Your salvation comes not from your fighting, but the chain around your neck.

"What's this?" The grip loosens a little, fingers pluck at the chain.

"There's someone coming." Another voice warns. "Finish her off."

The rings on the chain around your neck get pulled out from underneath your shirt and you start kicking again.

"Is this gold?"

A snap, and the chain breaks. The familiar clink of the two rings in the palm of someone else's hand makes you furious.

"Give them back!" you scream, but the words only come out as hoarse whispers. You throw yourself at the shape closest to you but only fall to the hard, cold ground as the assailant side-steps your pitiful attack. You receive one last kick to your ribs before the sound of heavy boots running away thunders in your ears.

"Fuckers," you croak, fumbling to get up, but failing as your ribs and stomach hurt too much.

New footsteps close in, the accompanying crackle of walkie-talkies telling you it's probably FEDRA. You think you recognize one of the voices but by the time the agents are with you, you have lost consciousness.

///

Ten minutes is the total amount of time that you were willing to spend in the clinic after you woke up. A fractured rib and countless bruises as well as an eye swollen shut and a bleeding lip is not enough to keep you in one of the sad hospital beds. The physician shrugs and dismisses you, and when you stumble out onto the street, Peters from guard duty is waiting for you.

"Figured you wouldn't stay," he shakes his head and starts to walk alongside you.

"You don't need to escort me."

"No, I don't. But I choose to do it."

You walk in silence for a few blocks before glancing at him.

"Did you catch them?"

"Do we ever?"

You grunt, your aching head already trying to plan for how to find them yourself. You need those rings back. Gold has no worth today, not like it used to, and the rings mean nothing to anyone but you. The loss of them is like a void in your chest, and your neck feels naked without the chain.

"You okay?" Peters asks.

"Sure."

"I saw the medical officer. You don't have to come in for a couple of days."

"That was unnecessary. I need to work."

"You can barely stay on your feet."

He's right, but you're not going to give him that. Reaching your apartment building, you just tell him bye before slipping through the front door. Almost succumbing to the three flights of stairs, you eventually reach your front door. Not until you are on the other side, locking the door and sliding the deadbolt, do you allow your body to sag, the tears to rise.

The physician gave you pain pills, and you down them with alcohol, all at once. Then you drink until you pass out on the bed.

It's late morning when you wake up, head throbbing, body immovable in its soreness. You blink at the sunlight, groan and turn your face away from it.

"My poor girl."

Frankie's voice is soothing right next to your ear.

"I lost them, Frankie," you whisper, unable to open your eyes and look at him. "Our rings."

"It doesn't matter. You're alive, that's what matters."

"It matters to me."

"They're just items."

"Symbols of our love."

"I loved you before I put a ring on your finger, and I love you after it's gone."

You start to sob, each one tearing through your body like a bullet through flesh.

"I know you're hurting, baby, but you gotta keep going." Frankie's encouragement is quiet and sad: he knows how hard it is for you, how unbearably tired you are.

"You can do it." He wraps his arm around you, very gently so as not to hurt you, and his lips are wonderfully cool against your hot forehead. "I know you can."

Sleep returns to temporarily release you from your pain.

///

"Frankie, she's not breathing!"

"Lemme see."

You cradle the still baby against your chest: the chest in which your heart has stopped beating. You're barely breathing yourself anymore, at least it doesn't feel like you are. If your baby is no longer breathing, how can you?

Frankie checks your child for a pulse, his grim face slowly falling apart when he realizes that which you don't want to acknowledge: that the fever has finally taken your daughter away from this burning world.

Halfway to the nearest town in which you had hoped to find a doctor, he turns the pickup around and return to the Millers' ranch, where you had taken refuge as soon as the cities started to empty because of spreading infection. You hug your baby to you the whole way. When you come back, William and Benjamin step out on the porch. They know how far it is to the nearest town, and that your early return only means one thing.

Frankie starts to dig a grave in the backyard that very same evening. You stand next to him in the twilight, still holding your child. When it's time to put her in the ground, the tears finally come.

///

The empty hollow in your chest is a stark contrast to the mind-numbing soreness of your body. How you manage to get out of bed and use the bathroom is beyond you. Returning to bed with an unopened bottle of moonshine - your last one - you force yourself to remember the dreamed memory of how you lost your daughter. In dark moments, such as this one, you think that it was for the best. What kind of a world is this to raise a child in? A fever is a lot less dramatic than getting bitten, infected, shot, burned. At least now she got to go to sleep peacefully in your arms. You buried her. Benny played a song on his old guitar and sang with a quivering voice. It meant so much to you.

The following year was hell. Frankie was just as heartbroken as you were, but he was the one who kept the marriage alive. Every time you pushed him away, he held you tighter. When you finally appeared from the tarry, stinking hole of grief, you discovered that you loved him more than ever. Loss makes some couples grow apart, but you had grown together. It was your salvation.

You take a swig from the bottle and grimace. Your head is pounding, and you can't remember the last time you ate anything. Alcohol poisoning is starting to feel very real, but you find it hard to give a shit. What more is there to live for, really?

Hunting down and killing those assholes who took your rings.

The thought sobers you up enough to put the bottle away. Sniffling from the pain, you heave yourself up from the bed, drag yourself to the bathroom where you vomit almost neatly, like it was planned all along.  Avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you turn on the water in the shower, undress, and step into the cold, slow drizzle. You stand there until the shower runs out of water and you are shaking. Slowly, wincing with pain every time you move a muscle, you dry yourself, put on clean clothes, and leave your apartment.

The heat of the afternoon sun feels good, but you don't reflect on it as you limp with purpose through the crowd moving on streets of the QZ. Your stomach complains of hunger, and you're dehydrated, but the mission at hand is more important right now.

You find the drug dealer at work, burning bodies. The lower half of his face is covered by a kerchief against the smoke and smell, but you'd recognize those shoulders anywhere. Without hesitation, you walk up to him as he makes his way from the pyre to the back of a truck. You can see the dead bodies stacked there, like logs. Or spoilt meat.

"I need to talk to you."

He recognizes you, and there is a split second of dismay when he sees your beat-up face before he squares his shoulders and looks at you with disinterest.

"I don't have anything to sell."

"It's not that." You step in front of him when he tries to get past you. "You know where I can find the people who did this to me."

Even with his mouth covered, you can see the tightness in his lips.

"Why would I help you?" He pushes past you, and you glance towards the armed FEDRA guard further away. He's not paying you any attention, so you follow the man to the truck and watch him lift another body from it.

"I have no idea," you confess, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the dead weight in his arms. It's easier to just think of the bodies as firewood, not the physical home of a once living person.

"I'd be in your debt," you try. He barely even looks at you.

"There's nothing I want from you."

"I can get you drugs," you tell him quickly. It's not a good idea, you're fully aware of that: every supply and every pill in the medical center is zealously accounted for, and you don't even have access to anything worthwhile. But he doesn't need to know that.

"I work at the clinic," you explain, now in a lower voice so that not one word will carry over to the FEDRA guard. The man stops, now eyeing you up and down.

"Why would you risk it?" he wants to know.

"I really need to get my hands on the men. They took something from me."

He grunts, leaning his weight on one leg and hooking his thumbs through the belt hoops of his jeans as he considers your offer. Eventually, he nods.

"What did they look like?"

///

Two days later, you're working in the clinic when FEDRA brings in man they found wandering outside the quarantine zone. He's middle-aged and a little malnourished but seems to be in otherwise good condition. He's brought in in handcuffs, and the agent leading him in gives you a little headshake.

The man's infected. You purse your lips, annoyed at the agents for not just shooting the man on the spot. Why do they have to bring them in here, where you have to pretend like they're not just about to die?

"How do you feel?" you ask lightly. "Any fever? Nausea?"

"I'm tired and hungry, I've walked for days - "

"You'll receive a meal and a bed shortly," you interrupt, grabbing the scanner so that you can check the man's status for yourself. The field agents sometimes bang up their scanners, so you don't trust them to give a correct reading.

The scanner's red light seals his fate. You hold the device away from him so he won't see it. Not that it matters: he must himself know that he's been bitten.

"I'll just give you a little shot of antibiotics," you tell him, turning your back to him as you prepare a syringe. "It's standard procedure for new arrivals."

You hear a shuffle and a broken gasp, and swing around to find him on his knees, looking up at you with fear in his eyes.

"Please," he implores you, "please don't kill me, I beg you, please!"

You swallow hard and nod at the FEDRA agent, who steps up and secures the patient so that you can administer the injection.

"I don't want to die."

Your hand starts to shake as his words start to move the sharp pieces of your broken heart around in your chest.

"I'm not ready to die."

Your throat feels constricted, but you manage to pump the entire dose into a vein, and the man grunts. You watch his eyes get sluggish, and take a step back when he slumps forward. His body twitches a couple of times before it lies still.

You tear off the mask and hurry out of the room, hurry down the dwindling corridors until you reach the back door. You burst through it and take a deep breath of the fresh air in the mid-morning sunshine. Your heart is chafing in your chest, which feels smaller than normal.

I'm not ready to die.

Leaning against the wall, you press your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing. In, out. Calmly. Frankie's voice haunts your memories. You can do it, baby, I believe in you.

Someone is approaching, so you snap your head up, your fist closing and ready to swing.

It's the drug dealer.

"I found them," he informs you without preamble. "Are you free tonight?"

"I'm free now," you tell him, desperate to get away from the clinic. He nods, and you ask him to wait fifteen minutes. Returning inside, you tell your supervisor that your injuries are bothering you. Once you receive a permission slip for the rest of the day, you change your clothes and leave.

Your guide is still waiting for you outside, arms crossed in front of his chest, face set grimly.

"Did you get the drugs?" he asks you when you come out. You shake your head.

"It needs planning."

"You've had two days of planning."

"I'll get to it, okay?" you snap, and he yields. It is a little strange to you that he would help you without any guarantee of payment, but you don't dwell on it. What matters is that you're on the move towards justice.

You follow the smuggler, who introduces himself as Joel, through the busy streets towards the blocks out of reach for FEDRA's concern. The crowd thins out, leaving only individuals of questionable intent and suspicious gazes. You don't feel unsafe, though: there is something very reassuring about having Joel walk in front of you, like his broad shoulders serve as a barrier between you and the bad things surrounding you. He moves with confident wariness, staring down anyone who dares to throw an unfriendly glance at the two of you. Finally, he stops outside what looks like a former bodega, and turns to you.

"There's three of them," he informs you shortly. "In the back room. Not very bright, but armed. You carrying?"

You pull out your handgun from the waistband of your pants. You've carried it since the attack, damned be the consequences if it were discovered on you. Joel nods, produces his own gun, and clicks the safety off. You do the same and follow him into the building. He moves surprisingly silently for his size and heavy boots, and you do your best to match him as he leads you through the derelict space to the back door. He gestures for you to cover him from the side, then counts down by holding up first three fingers, then two, and finally one.

Then he kicks down the door and fires a warning shot as he enters the back room, where three startled men scramble for their weapons. You crash in, immediately shooting one of them in the knee.

"Don't fucking move!"

"On your knees," Joel commands them. The one that you shot is already writhing on the floor, and the two others raise their hands as they kneel. You recognize the leader immediately, and his features tell you that he knows that the day of reckoning has come.

"Where are they?" you demand, pointing the gun at him.

"What?" He has the audacity to even ask you: he and his companions took nothing from you but two rings on a chain. Everything else you ever had, including love, your sense of security, your sense of self, were taken years ago.

"The rings!" you roar, coming close enough for the barrel of the gun to touch his forehead. "The rings you fucking took from me, where the fuck are they?"

"I sold them!" His voice is growing panicked.

"To whom?"

"I don't fucking know, it was just some guy!"

"The QZ isn't big enough for you to not know every single fucking lowlife that crawls these streets," you point out. The guy starts to shake.

"I promise, I don't know!"

You don't even think: your trigger finger makes the decision for you. The shot rings out as your hand jerks back a little with the recoil. Warm blood stains your fingers, and you point the gun at the next guy.

"What about you? You don't know either?"

"I don't know, I swear!"

You shoot him too. The last one is the one with only one good knee. Putting him down is an act of mercy, but he holds out his hand as you turn to him.

"No, wait, wait!"

You fix him with your gaze as well as the gun, and let him speak.

"I don't know his name, but I think he's FEDRA. Thin guy, around six feet, light hair, blue eyes."

Your nostrils flare as you recognize the description. Lowering your gun, you turn away from the man bleeding on the floor.

"What are we doin'?" Joel demands, but you click the safety back on, a new purpose forming in your mind.

"We are not doing anything," you tell him. "I don't need you."

You walk out of the building. A gun goes off behind you, telling you that Joel put the last assailant out of his misery.

///

Peters is on a smoke break outside the FEDRA headquarters. He nods when he sees you, and without wasting any time, you march straight up to him. You push him roughly, sending him back two steps.

"Where are my rings?" you demand, resisting the urge to reach for your gun. Peters' eyes narrow.

"If you want them back, I need something from you."

"What?"

"Meds. Drugs. You work at the clinic."

You stare at him, your hatred spilling into your features, letting him know just how much you despise him.

"You must know I can't just waltz in there and fill a shopping bag."

"That's your problem," Peters shrugs. "Get me pills, or you won't see the rings again. Moreover, I'll report you for killing the men that attacked you."

"How do you know I killed them?"

"You just told me."

You bite your jaws together as you realize that you've been had. Peters smirks.

"I thought you were smarter than that."

You can't stand to look at him one more second, so you turn around and leave.

///

The night is long when pain keeps sleep away. You toss and turn, your brain working feverishly overtime in trying to figure out how to get out of this mess. You remember how Frankie wanted both of you to stay clear of any kind of organized attempts to keep the new status quo, or the opposite. He was a contender for becoming a FEDRA agent because of his military background but refused to serve a government that shackled and killed people. Yourself, you could have joined the Fireflies, but he didn't want that either. It's just best to mind our own business.

You did that for a long time, and you still lost your daughter. You took every precaution when leaving the Millers' farm to make it on your own with Frankie, and still...

He comes to you in the small hours of the night when your brain can no longer tell the difference between reality and delusion. His familiar smell invades your nose and comforts you, and his strong arms gather you to him, to his steadily beating heart.

"You went and got yourself in quite a pickle now, corazon."

"I know, I know. You told me so."

"I did. Still, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

You sigh deeply. "Me too."

"You'll figure it out," he states matter-of-factly. Of course you will. You have to.

You sigh again and reach your hands into his hair, those soft curls that you have loved since day one.

"I want you, Frankie," you mumble. He kisses your forehead.

"You know we can't. We can't risk it."

He was always the careful one. You were on the pill when society collapsed, and you didn't exactly think to pack them when you had to flee your home. Whenever you raided a grocery store, Frankie would always check for condoms. When there were no more to be had, you had to resort to other ways to pleasure each other. The world may have gone to shit, but you still wanted each other. What you and Frankie had was a once in a lifetime thing. You could not not want each other.

"Just use your fingers?" you suggest throatily. "Your mouth. Like you used to."

"Why don't you do it to yourself, sweetheart," he coaxes you with equal amounts of honey dripping from his voice. "Let me watch."

He kisses you, teasingly, longingly. It has been ages.

"Let me watch you, baby..."

"It's not the same."

It was that objection, spoken years ago, that led to the penetration that resulted in a pregnancy. Your daughter had been dead for three years and the need to be with Frankie, really be with him, had grown too great. Your cycle was unreliable, and you figured that the risk was low.

Low risk, your ass. You got pregnant on the spot. And lost the baby only a few weeks later, the day you had to put a gun to your husband's head and pull the trigger.

I'm not ready to die.

That's what he said, as if you were any more ready to lose him. To lose him was unfathomable. But he had been bitten and had to beg you to put him out of his misery.

I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I'm making you do this. But someone has to. God, I'm not ready to die.

Tears begin to fall, and your body starts to shake. You roll over onto your back and sob out loud. Frankie is no longer with you, and all you have is a battered body, a broken heart, and a huge problem to solve.

You have to survive.

///

The medicine storage room is only accessible by key card and code. Only Craig, the physician at the arrival clinic, has both. You track his movements for the next two days, hoping to find some fault in his routine. When none presents itself after those two days, and you know that time is short, you try something new. Complaining of lingering pain, you earn a prescription of painkillers, but he won't release more than a couple at a time to you.

When you get ready to leave for the night, you throw a glance through the open door to Craig's office. He's sitting there; a middle-aged, bearded man, in a circle of light cast by the desk lamp, deep in paperwork. It's funny that medical staff should have paperwork even now.

"Good night," you say tentatively. He looks up, nods at you.

"Good night. Lock the door behind you. I sent the guards home."

You nod, and when the door clicks shut behind you, you have a plan. But for that you need Joel.

Still limping, you look for him in the deserted back alleys where the light faded already before the sunset. When you finally find him, he gives you a look that could almost be described as a smirk.

"You have my drugs?"

"Almost," you answer, squaring your shoulders that are dwarfed by the sheer wall of deadly that constitutes Joel's upper body. "I need your help."

"You're racking up quite a debt."

"I need your help to break into the clinic and beat the physician into giving us the drugs."

You state your business with the confidence of someone who has planned this to the very last detail, but the truth is that you don't really have any idea of how to do this. You're out of options, and you can't burst in there on your own, guns blazing. You need help, and you don't have anyone, not even Joel, but you have to convince him somehow.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest and raises an eyebrow at your bold proposition. "Are you on some kind of suicide mission?"

"I'm in trouble. I need those drugs, not just for you."

"I don't associate with desperate people. They get sloppy."

You purse your lips, angry at yourself for letting your despair shine through.

"If I don't get help, there will be no drugs."

He looks at you with narrowing eyes and for the first time you feel small next to him. You are at his mercy, and he knows it, and you don't like it one bit.

"It's not just about the drugs," he finally says, "there's something more. It has to do with those guys that we killed."

His eyes see right through you. "You know who they sold your rings to."

Fine. "He's a FEDRA agent, and he threatened me. If I don't get him drugs, he'll turn me in."

"Fuck." The curse comes out as a sigh.

"So if you don’t help me, they're going to kill me, and you won't get anything at all," you point out. Joel shakes his head.

"I need more than that. What are these rings? Why are they important?"

Now it's your time to cross your arms and glare at him. However, there is no beating that stone cold face. You could stand here until the end of time and you wouldn't win a staring contest with Joel.

"Me and my husband's wedding bands," you finally admit, defeated. "I wear them in a chain around my neck. They matter to me."

You expect him to scoff but to your surprise, you are instead served the hint of a crack in his grim facade. He looks down, seemingly at his left wrist right in front of his chest. The edge of a wristwatch peeks out from underneath the fraying cuff of his jacket.

"Okay," he finally nods. "Let's go."

///

The plan is simple. You will wear masks, get in with your key, surprise Craig, and force him to use his key card and code to open the storage room. A knock on the head and he hopefully won't remember much the next day.

"Can you walk without limping?" Joel asks as you pull the FEDRA-made balaclava over your head. Not surprising to you, he had managed to produce two of them very quickly. He doesn't explain and you don't ask.

"Don't worry," you tell him curtly and take out your gun. "Come on."

The clinic corridors are dark and silent, but you know that Craig will be in his office. His sleep deprivation manifests in dark circles under his eyes each morning, as well as in the way he cherishes his big mug of surrogate coffee every day, like it was a delicious Guatemalan roast. He has no family, barely any conscience either, but he has always shown a weary patience with you when you started working at the clinic. Not a chatty type, but then neither you.

The light spilling out the open office door tells you that he's still working. You gesture towards the door and Joel shows with a nod that he's understood. Quietly but quickly, with your heart thumping in your throat, you make it to the door. Joel makes himself known first, his tall and broad form claiming the entire doorway.

"Let me see your hands. And stand up."

Slowly, Craig obeys, but when Joel tells him what he wants, the physician is not moving.

"Did you not hear me?" Joel growls, but Craig doesn't move a muscle.

"I'm not giving you drugs."

Shit. You didn't count on him being a hero. Not knowing what to do, you hold back a gasp when Joel walks around the desk and smacks Craig in the face with his gun.

"How about now?"

Spitting blood and trembling from the shock of the sudden assault, Craig nevertheless shakes his head.

"No."

Joel growls again, and grabs Craig by the collar. Dragging the man after him to the corridor, he looks in both directions. "Which way?"

Craig doesn't answer, so you nod to the right. Joel sets off, pulling Craig with him. A tearing sound is heard when a piece of his shirt fabric breaks from Joel's rough handling, but Joel doesn't blink an eye. You follow, cursing under your breath. Just fucking give him what he wants, Craig!

Joel stops at the door to the storage room and shoves Craig against it. "Open it."

"No." The word is spoken in a small voice, but it is a no nonetheless. Joel cocks his gun and puts it to the older man's forehead.

"Open it."

You suddenly feel sick. This isn't right. This isn't how you wanted to do it. You push your hand down his pockets, finding the key card, and you immediately scan it by the door, but without the code, the door doesn't open.

"The code," you ask him, but he only shakes his head. You shove the gun under his chin.

"Don't be a hero."

"I'll die before I give you the code."

"Let me oblige you," Joel growls. "I'm counting to three."

You look into the physician's eyes. You may not know him, but you can see that this is a man who has made up his mind. What traumas does he carry that makes him so eager to part with his life? Maybe this end comes as a blessing to him?

"Fuck!" you exclaim and slam the gun against the side of his head. With a heavy huff, Craig sinks into a heap on the floor, blood seeping out of a cut on his head. Joel looks down at him, then turns his dark face to you.

"What is wrong with you?"

"All of this!" you hiss before turning around promptly and starting a brisk march down the hallway, away from the situation, out and as far as you can get. You don't know if Joel follows you, and you don't stop, except to dispose of your balaclava into a trash can halfway home.

Frankie is nowhere to be found as you pace your small apartment all night, waiting for FEDRA agents to come and arrest you. When the first rays of morning light come in through the window and nobody has been at your door, you collapse on top of your bed, and sleep restlessly for three hours.

Showered and with clean clothes, yet still looking half dead, you venture out of your apartment. You don't really want to but know that you have to make an appearance at the clinic, see how Craig is doing, what the consequences of your break-in are. You have a lie to serve about why you're late and are ready to serve it with a straight face. When you arrive at the clinic,  however, nobody is interested in questioning you. There is blood at the entrance, and extra guards who check your credentials before letting you in. You walk through the halls towards Craig's office, fearing what you'll learn, what more lies you'll have to come up with to explain why you didn't come to work in the morning.

It turns out that nobody cares about your absence: everyone is more concerned with the assault and subsequent death at the clinic last night. Slowly, you begin to understand the picture, even if you can't understand it.

Around midnight last night, a man and a woman broke in, threatened the physician, then rendered him unconscious with a nasty blow to the head. He woke up by a gunshot, traced it to the back door, and found a dead man holding the gun he recognized as belonging to the masked man who threatened him. This dead man has been identified as Jeffrey Peters, a FEDRA agent.

Peters. Discreetly, you make sure that there's a wall behind you, and lean on it to make sure you'll stay on your feet.

"You okay?" Craig asks you, and the FEDRA agents all turn to you. Shit.

"Yeah..." You make a show of rubbing your forehead and sighing deeply. "I did guard duty with Peters."

"How well did you know him?" one of the agents ask, and you shrug.

"Not that well. We didn't talk much about ourselves. He seemed nice enough, though."

"Was he punctual? Reliable?"

You hesitate. "He... sometimes, a couple of times, he'd ask me to cover for him, and he'd disappear for a few minutes or so."

"While on duty?" another agent prompts. You nod.

"I always assumed he went to piss or something."

"Would you have thought him capable of something like this?"

You swallow, your hesitation real as you try to navigate these tricky waters. How do you raise suspicions about Peters without expressing a dislike for FEDRA?

"I think that his training made him capable of many things," you finally saw, eyes cast down.

They buy it, and you're let off the hook together with Craig. You apologize again for being late, blaming headaches and pains, and get the rest of the week off.

You immediately start to look for Joel. When darkness brings another night over the QZ, you still haven't found him. Instead, you find your local bootlegger and trade in a ration coupon for two bottles of something not-quite-clear that you're positive has a high enough alcohol level to kill off whatever germs it most probably contains.

The liquor tastes vile, and you long for the carefree emptiness that the pills provide, but at least you pass out soon enough. The nightmares you have are of Frankie and the bullet you put in his head, again and again and again you're forced to relive the terror, the guilt, the absolute devastation of having to first kill your husband, then live without him.

When you wake up the next morning, your anguish is only trumped by your hangover. It takes you half the day to get out of bed, shower, dress, and eat without getting sick. When you finally venture out it's late afternoon, and you are on a mission to find Joel. A nagging suspicion about him is making you uneasy, and you need confirmation, even if you have no idea what to do with the knowledge.

You finally find him hanging around the usual alley where you know that he deals. He's performing a quick transaction with a young, haggard-looking woman, and you wait at a respectful distance until she's gone. Joel's gaze follows her before fixating on you, and you see his hand quickly stuff some coupons into his pocket.

"You're dealing?" you demand at once. "Where did you get the stuff from?"

"Another source came through."

"So we beat Craig up just for fun last night?"

Joel gives you an almost disdainful look. "It was your idea."

Your head is pounding, and you feel the bile rise. Fighting to keep it together, you turn away from Joel and rub your palms over your face.

"Did you kill Peters?" you ask, your voice subdued beneath your hands.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He complicated things."

That's for sure. You take a deep breath, will your stomach to settle, your head to cease spinning. Slowly, you raise your gaze to Joel.

"How did you do it?"

He folds his strong arms in front of his chest and dips his chin a little as he regards you.

"You sure you want to know?"

You nod. Yes, you're sure. You need to know.

"I told him your plan and said I needed his help to execute it. He jumped on it at once. As soon as we had broken in, I took his gun and shot him. I left my gun in his hand and put my balaclava on him, then left the scene. The doc soon raised the alarm."

Joel tells you this matter-of-factly, like he was talking about a walk on the beach. But there is still one issue he hasn't addressed, and now you have to.

"The rings," you remind him. "My rings. Did he have them on him?"

"Yes."

Your heart almost stops. "Yes?"

Joel sticks his hand in his pocket and fishes out the gold chain. The two rings clink softly when he places them in your trembling hand. They feel warm from his body heat, and for a moment you can almost feel Frankie's touch on you.

"Thank you," you whisper throatily, closing your hand to keep the rings safe. "Appreciate it."

Joel only grunts.

"I'll get you the drugs," you promise. "Somehow."

"Forget about it. You don't have to."

You look up at him, surprised and wary. Nothing is free in this world, and Joel is a smuggler. There is no way he wouldn't want anything for his troubles. You're indebted to him, no matter what he says, and you hate that feeling of him having something on you.

Joel's dark gaze offers no answers. You pocket the rings and don't know what to say. Lingering in front of him, you almost feel like you did when you were 12 years old and finally had the opportunity of talking to your crush. The feeling mixed badly with the relief of having your wedding bands returned to you, and before you know it, your lips are pressed against Joel's.

Joel is completely unresponsive, so you step back almost as quickly as you advanced. He's like a statue, cold and still, and you suddenly just want to cry from how much you miss normal human interaction, even just a hint of goddamn kindness.

"Sorry," you mutter before slinking away, neck bent in shame and confusion. You head towards the small apartment that was never a home but that you call home because what else would you call it? Sometimes you think that it must be easier for young people who know of nothing else but this world. At least they don't know the loss of, say, sunny Sunday morning breakfasts, exchanging relaxed, loving smiles across the table before leaving the coffee cups and hurrying back to bed...

The heartache is physical, intolerable, and makes you hurry. You need to get away from people, hide between the four walls with peeling wallpapers that surround your designated living area. If you're going to break, you have to do so privately.

As soon as you've locked the door behind you, you reach into your pocket and take out the chain. The rings look as familiar as ever: you know every scratch in the gold as well as the little indentation in Frankie's from that time when he caught his hand in the car door. His ring finger was saved by you still had a hard time getting it off his finger as it started to swell. The rest of his fingers required a visit to the ER. He never wanted his ring fixed. Frankie believed in letting things age as they were, with scars intact.

You slide your ring on your finger, finding it doesn't fit anymore, not only in size, but it also looks foreign on your finger. You sigh deeply and fasten the chain around your neck instead. The liquor bottle comforts you when the pain becomes too much to bear. You drink slowly, mindfully, because you know that drinking yourself into a stupor only makes you pass out. You need the in-between, that special place where you're awake but lost to substance. That's where Frankie is.

He comes before long, sighing deeply as he stands by the bed and watches you in the dusk.

"Missed you," you mumble, reaching for him. Frankie, however, doesn't move.

"You need to snap yourself out of this," he tells you gently. "Baby, you need to - "

"I need to survive, I know," you cut him off. "You always tell me that. I'm surviving."

"Survival isn't just about not dying," he reminds you. "You need to move on, my love. You have to move on."

You blink slowly, trying to focus on him. Has he always been this hazy?

"What're you talking about?"

"I think we should stop doing this."

You jerk up into a sitting position. The room spins, as does your stomach.

"No! Frankie, no, I can't do this without you!" Tears begin to run down your cheeks. Frankie shakes his head and looks at you in the same way as the first time he worked up the courage to ask you out: chin down, warm brown eyes shyly peeking at you. Now, however, he just looks infinitely sad. The trembling smile he gives you rips your guts out.

"You've been doing this without me for years. You can do it. You're strong, baby, you're so strong."

"I don't want to," you weep now, snot mixing with tears on your upper lip. "Frankie, don't make me do this."

"I don't want you to live in the past."

"There is no future to be had."

"There is always life."

He sits down next to you and lets you cling to him. He kisses your hair, caresses your back, lets you cry it out against his threadbare flannel, soft and worn down.

"I loved you since I first saw you," he tells you with longing and regret in his deep voice, "and I loved you until the end."

You want to tell him that you love him too, beg him to stay for his love for you, but your throat is too constricted for words. You cling to him, desperate for one last embrace, to smell his skin, thread your fingers through his soft locks, feel the scrape of his mustache on your lips.

"Let me go," he implores you. "You need to let me go, sweetheart."

"No..." you keen helplessly, pathetically, "please, don't make me do this...!"

"It's okay, baby."

"No..."

"It's okay. You'll be okay."

You don't know when he leaves. The next time you open your eyes to look through a curtain of tears at the room, he just isn't there anymore.

///

Joel's observant eyes follow you when you hurry away from the alley where he deals. Normally, he doesn't pay his customers too much attention, but there's something up with you.

He hasn't seen you in a week, and you look like you've been on a bender for the entirety of that time, and only now woke up, cleaned yourself enough to show yourself in public without attracting too much attention, and then went out to get more shit to fuck you up. Your eyes are bloodshot and unfocused, and he can smell alcohol on you. Your body language is so different: you are hunched up, neck bent, and your eyes fastened on the ground.

You want more pills than usual. When he lies about not having any more, you pull out even more ration coupons. He should say no. He has a terrible feeling about what you're about to do with those pills. Even if he's wrong, he knows approximately how many coupons you get each week and month, and you're giving him pretty much everything you have.

He should say no, but he doesn't. It's business, and those coupons are worth a lot.

Still, he watches you leave, then starts to follow you through the crowded streets of the Boston QZ. He keeps a distance but realizes soon that you have no idea - or don't care - if you are being followed. You bump into people, dig your hands even deeper into your pockets, and let yourself be pushed to the side by an angry passer-by. Still, you walk with a sad kind of purpose until you reach a run-down brownstone and disappear inside. He enters not long behind you and stands still in the foyer, hearing your heavy steps work their way upstairs. Finally, steps along the floor, then a door.

He stands in the foyer for a while, wondering if he should find out which apartment is yours, and see that you're okay. In the end, however, he decides against it.

You're not his problem. Now that all the unpleasantries with the clinic are over, and both of you seem safe from suspicions, he's definitely not getting entangled with you again.

Still, he lingers in the foyer, shifts his weight from one foot to the other while scowling at himself. Finally, he leaves the building and marches away. He has shit to do. He has his own survival to think about.

One block down, he turns around.

///

The rapping on your door makes you jump, and you pull out your gun as you go to look through the peep hole. Seeing Joel, your first thought is that he's coming to kill you and take back his pills, the pills that are waiting on your bed.

"What do you want?" you want to know.

"Just open the goddamn door or I'll break it."

You doubt he'd do something like that, but you still open the door. Joel fills the entire doorway with his broad frame, looking past you into the room. He doesn't even seem to care about the gun you're holding. When he sees the pills on your bed, he takes a step in, and that's when you point the gun at him.

"Don't take another step."

"I need those back." His voice is nearly toneless but you can hear a warning in it.

"I'll shoot."

"I've seen you pull a trigger, you would've shot me already if you wanted to."

He walks past you as if you were but a child who didn't want their toys taken away. When he reaches your bed, you realize that you're really going to lose your way out.

You throw yourself on him, pushing him down onto the bed, and start beating his broad back with a knuckle and the gun. For a moment, he grunts and curls up, but then he seems to find himself, and turns around and grabs your wrists with an ease that's nothing but frightening. He twists your wrists, and you drop the gun, your face distorting into a grimace until you keen from the pain. That's when he releases you, takes your gun, and releases the clip as well as the one in the chamber.

You lie on the bed, panting from lingering pain, your aching hands pressed against your chest, and watch him gather the pills. He doesn't look at you, barely even acknowledges you, except for when he leaves your coupons on the sheets. You feel cheap, used, discarded. Shame burns in your throat, and you just want him to leave, go and let you be alone with your misery.

Instead, he sits down on the couch, grimacing a little when his back hits the backrest. You got in some good hits.

You glare at him. "You got what you came here for, now get the fuck out."

He regards you with a slightly tilted head, even puts his arm up on the backrest, claiming his space with spread legs and a comfortable recline. You think in that moment that you hate him fervently.

"Are you a good shot?"

"What?"

"I said, are you a good shot?"

You stare incredulously at him as you slowly sit up. "Why?"

"Just answer the question," he barks. You shrug.

"Not a great one, but I get by, I guess."

"Rifle?"

"Yeah."

"I could use you on an expedition."

"Are you offering me a job?"

He leans forward, forearms on his knees. "I need a lookout. You interested?"

You chew on your lower lip, still suspicious and frankly, a bit confused. He waits patiently for you to come to a decision.

"Okay."

///

There is something about being outside the walls of the QZ. The air is fresher there, more breathable, more oxygenized. There's greenery, the whole city of Boston is swallowed up by nature. It's heart-breakingly beautiful how when a civilization falls, another takes over. The civilization of trees, animals, plants. Some part of you applauds the reclamation, roots for the trees, so to speak.

Liberating though it may feel, the world outside of the QC is also incredibly dangerous. But with Joel on your side and your former experience of traveling with Frankie, you learn how to navigate the overgrown streets and decrepit buildings.

Coming back from the first run - a shorter one to look for an alternate way through a particularly nasty block - he asks you if you've had military training. You just shake your head, but you can tell that he still is curious about your use of hand signals, how you handle the rifle, your military abbreviations.

"My husband was," you finally offer, not taking your eyes off the road. "Special forces."

Joel grunts in acknowledgement, but neither one of you speak any more until you reach the QZ at nightfall.

"I might need you again," Joel says once you're back inside the city walls.

"You know where I live."

He holds out a small, crinkled slide lock bag with pills, but you shake your head.

"I'd rather not have those around," you tell him quietly. Even if you long for the oblivion the pills can provide, you have decided - for the time being - that you don't need them.

Joel immediately pockets the pills, like he's afraid you'll change your mind. He then nods at you before disappearing into the shadows. You go home, and you sleep better than you have in ages. Still, the lumpy pillow is wet with tears when you wake up in the morning.

///

On the fourth run, you save Joel's life. You're his lookout, perched on top of a smaller building, while he clears out debris in an alleyway. The sun is high and sweat runs down your forehead. You wipe it away and then you see him: a man holding a baseball bat, slowly creeping up on Joel from behind. Mechanically, you take aim and shoot. Joel jumps at the sharp sound of the shot, and the subsequent groan from the man who slumps down onto the street makes him turn around. The man's head is blown to bits, and Joel quickly looks through his backpack and pockets for anything useful. He then looks up at you, gestures for you to keep looking - the gunshot could attract unwanted attention - and goes back to what he was doing, confident that you'll have his back.

You realize that in a very short time, you've become somewhat synced with him. You noticed early on that Joel has impaired hearing on his right ear and therefor wants his right flank covered in dangerous areas. He has bad knees, so you help out with heavy lifting from the ground. He doesn't talk much, but he gives you the last piece of jerky when your stomach growls at the end of your break.

He reminds you of Frankie in that sense. Frankie would also wordlessly see to it that you were comfortable, both before and after the outbreak. He would give you the best couch corner and get you your favorite snacks. He would have you take the last sip of water and stay awake all night so that you could sleep. And he never expected anything from you in return.

The comparison hurts, but you didn't use to think about Frankie at all during the day. He was a bittersweet pleasure saved for the night, for the pills and the alcohol. Now you're thinking about him in the harsh light of day, whenever your gaze rests on Joel's broad shoulders a second too long.

And yet, Joel is nothing like Frankie. You late husband kept his softness, his humanity, even after the loss of your daughter. You don't know what Joel has lost, what he has done, but you can tell he's been through shit. Well, so did Frankie, and Frankie never changed.

Joel is a cold hard killer. You find yourself wondering if he was always that. He has a military background, that much you know now, but what did his hands do when they didn't hold a gun?

Joel has made his way through the clutter in the alleyway, and you climb down to continue forward with him. He grabs you by the upper arm and when you startle, he releases you with his hand sliding down your arm, surprisingly softly.

"Thanks," he says gruffly, and you nod. So that's what his hands can do when not busy beating the life out of someone.

The two of you walk on, attentive of your surroundings, and very aware of the other's presence.

When you return to the QZ with the first light of the morning Joel stops you just a you're about to part ways. His hand rests heavily on your shoulder as he seems to look for something to say.

"You did good," he finally says. You search his face in the hopes of finding something more, but he is as closed off as ever. You finally put your hand on top of his. His fingers flex at the contact but stay where they are. A few moments pass by with the two of you just staring at each other and when Joel doesn't make the first move, you finally do. Your lips are on his, seeking a response that takes some time. When your lips part to let out the tip of your tongue against his pressed-together lips, his hand moves to the back of your neck, his big palm cupping you there roughly. You didn't expect him to be so rough from the way he had caressed your arm before, but it feels right. His tongue meets yours, forces it back into your mouth as he devours you, dry, chapped lips that taste of sweat stealing your breath away with the kiss that never ends, or maybe it's just one kiss after another that picks up before the previous one is over.

When he finally lets you draw breath, you're almost light-headed. He's still holding you by the back of your head, but now his fingers are gently stroking over your scalp. A tremor runs down your spine, and you make up your mind.

"My place is not far away," you tell him quietly. He just nods, then follows you through the empty streets to your apartment and into your bed.

///

He's not there when you wake up. You didn't expect him to, and you feel nothing but relief.

Last night, this morning, was a disaster.

You get up and step into the shower, the cold water making you shiver as you scrub yourself with a rough piece of soap. The events of the early morning replay before your inner eye, and your cheeks burn with chagrin.

He was rough. You welcomed that. Tenderness would have reminded you too much of Frankie, and you couldn't think about him. You ripped each other's clothes off, and Joel did his best to get you off, using his fingers and mouth. But he was in too much of a hurry, and you were stuck in your head. Eventually you just pushed him away and asked him to fuck you. You even turned around so he could take you from behind. So neither one of you had to look at the other, in case you suddenly found yourself wondering what you were doing there.

Muffling yourself by hiding your face in the sheets, you took the backshot as silently as you could, enduring it rather than enjoying. You wanted it, but you found yourself distracted by thoughts of unwanted pregnancies, and found yourself unable to relax. Your tension led to greater friction, his big cock struggling to fit in, and after having assaulted your clenching pussy for a few minutes, you sucked him off.

Neither one of you were satisfied, and you fell asleep by sheer force of will, because it was the only way for you to escape the situation.

Stepping out of the shower, you dry yourself off before wrapping the threadbare towel around you. Your fridge is empty because you haven't been to collect your rations, and you slam shut the fridge door with a frustrated sigh. Your last remaining liquor bottle stands on the shelf. You haven't touched it in a while, but now you grab it and unscrew the cork. A deep line between your eyebrows, you drink deeply, savoring the heat of the drink going down smoothly into your belly. Leaning against the countertop, you rub your forehead and sigh deeply.

This went to shit faster than green grass through a goose.

It was only supposed to help you release some tension. It was only because he touched you like that. It was only because he gave you the rings back. It was only because when you shot that would-be assailant, you imagined for a split second what life would be like if you hadn’t seen that assailant in time, and Joel would have died.

It was only because you missed the touch of another human being.

Inhaling deeply, you will yourself into facing yet another day. It doesn’t matter. Joel doesn’t matter. You’ll survive.

You go to the clinic, you perform your tasks, you return home with rations, but the bottle is more interesting than food. You eat dutifully, however, before emptying the bottle and cursing the fact that it was your last one. Just as you’ve decided to try to get hold of more alcohol, there is a knock on the door. Sober in just a second, you grab your gun and approach the door, craning your neck to look through the peephole.

It's Joel. Frowning, you open, letting him see you’re holding your gun.

He barely raises a brow. “You can put that down.”

You do, but keep the door ajar, staring at him with distrust.

“What do you want?”

He shrugs. “Wanted to see if you were alright.”

“I’m fine.”

He nods, then looks down the hall before fastening his gaze on you again.

“Can I come in?”

“What for?”

He pulls out a flask from his pocket and shakes it seductively. It’s full. You consider this for a second, then open the door and walk back into the apartment. Joel follows, closing and locking the door behind him. You take one corner of the worn down couch, he takes the other.

He brings not only the bottle, but also pills. You accept one – a lot less than your usual dose – and down it with the real bourbon from his flask.

“That’s good,” you nod when passing the flask back to him. Joel nods and takes a swig.

“I know a guy.”

“You know a lot of them, don’t you?”

He grunts, unwilling to admit the extent of his network. You’ve met a handful of people during your runs together. None of them ever introduce themselves, and neither do you.

“What about girls?” you ask boldly, the substances starting to mellow you out. Joel raises one brow quizzically.

“I know where the FEDRA agents go when they want to let off some steam,” you continue. “Do you go there as well?”

He shakes his head. “Not my thing.”

“Don’t you fuck at all?” you ask, the booze and drugs slurring your words slightly. “Maybe that’s why your pity fuck last night was so miserable.”

He bristles a little at that. “I’d be inclined to say that it wasn’t all on me.”

“No,” you sigh, “it was me as well.”

Silence descends with the two of you staring at the ceiling, at your own hands, at anything but each other. When you reach your hand across the couch, Joel gives you the flask. You take a large swig, and Joel glares at you.

“That stuff’s hard to come by.”

“I’m sure you have your ways.”

“At some point my ways won’t be enough anymore.”

The conversation is stilted, unnatural. You lean back and sigh deeply, your eyes closing.

“Why are you here, Joel?”

He takes the flask from you, and you hear the cork screwed shut. He then shifts closer, his body heat radiates towards you. You keep your eyes firmly closed and startle when you feel his fingers brush over your cheek. Next, his lips. They slowly cover your skin to your lips, which separate so that he can close his lips around your lower one when he kisses you. Bourbon mixes with bourbon and the intimate flavors of the self when the kiss deepens. Joel slides his tongue in, intimate as if it were finding its way into your slick cunt, not your mouth. It’s met by your tongue, eager and shy at the same time, unable to decide whether to wait or advance. With a calm confidence, Joel takes control, kisses his fill of you, peels raw the sensitive skin around your mouth with his sharp bristles.

His hand comes to a rest on your thigh, fingers loosely spread over the flesh until you put your hand on his and press down. He breaks the kiss, and you feel his shallow breaths right in front of you.

“Look at me,” he demands in a low voice. Your eyes flutter open to meet his: dark as the night but not frightening in any way except in intensely they seem to yearn for love and affection, if only for one fuck.

“You’re drunk,” he states.

“Yes,” you confirm, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

“What do you want?” His hand burns on your thigh.

“I want… I need you to fuck me, Joel.”

He makes some kind of noise, a guttural croak, maybe a growl, and presses his lips to yours again. Now you let yourself react more, your tongue meets his in a powerful dance, your hands run up the sides of his waist, ribcage, and back to pull him in. Your eyes are closed again, you don’t want to see anything, you only want to feel. He pulls his mouth from yours to instead bite and lick your tits, hands cupping and discovering and pinching. When he attaches himself to one nipple and sucks hard, you keen loudly, your head lolling back to meet the wall behind the couch. You find his hand on your breast and redirect it to the base of your throat. Joel only pauses his ministrations briefly before continuing, his fingers closing around your throat for a gentle but firm squeeze. You whimper encouragingly as the light pressure on your windpipe cuts off all intrusive thoughts, allowing you to focus on the pleasure instead.

When your breasts are dappled with marks left by Joel’s lips and teeth, he releases your throat and stands up. You blink up at him, worried for a moment that he grew tired already, but your eyes catch the thick outline of his cock at the front of his jeans, and then he offers you his hand. You take it, and he pulls you up, crashing you into him, back against his lips, and as you kiss you unbutton his denim shirt, rid him off it unceremoniously, then take his t-shirt off. You make no time to admire his chest and stomach, don’t allow yourself any musings on the physique of a middle-aged, hard-working man. You simply duck your head to bite his nipples, suck and nibble just as he did to you. Joel grunts, his fingers slipping through the hair at the back of your neck before taking a hold and pulling your lips off him. You cast a wondering glance up at him, but he’s already maneuvering you to the bed. Not unkindly but with a demand that you appreciate, he pushes you down on the bed, then locks your gaze as he unbuckles his belt. You mirror him, unbutton your jeans and push them down your hips as he does it, and then you’re naked before him, and he before you. Your eyes flicker down to his stout cock fighting gravity as it strives upward. Involuntarily, you start to salivate, your mouth remembering the challenge of fitting as much as possible of that thick cock in it. Your cunt is dripping in the same recollection, and you swallow, your legs separating as you show Joel what you have, your fingers trailing down to part your lips and rub your clit. He inhales sharply before leaning over you to roughly turn you around. He then gets onto the bed, gives you a surprising smack on your ass, and then you feel his bristles and lips against your sex, from behind, as his hands knead your ass cheeks. You yelp in surprise and instant gratification before muffling yourself against the mattress as your whimpers turn into moans, rising in volume the tighter your core winds itself. Lick after slurping lick, you let go of everything but the sensation, your ass in his hands, your cunt pressed up against his face, your clit throbbing from his constant rough care.

Joel’s name is on your lips when your climax breaks free, but you press your lips together, press your eyes shut, press your hand over your mouth as your legs kick and your body trembles. Your walls have barely stopped fluttering around empty when Joel shifts and moves up your body, positioning himself. Your cunt is wet, but his cock still sears through you as he pushes himself in, balls deep with one thrust. Your breath gets stuck in the back of your throat, your scream stops before it’s even out, and then your lungs compress when he lays his entire weight on you. You expect him to pound you into the mattress but instead, Joel starts a slow, deep grind, and it's almost more brutal because he’s deep, so thick, so heavy, and you don’t want him to stop. Your mewls are pitiful, the sheet are half inside your mouth, there is no room to move and when Joel grips your throat again, there is barely any room for breathing, either.

And yet, you want more of it. You want him to choke the life out of you, want him to crush you with that broad, heavy frame of his. You want him to blow you apart, tear you up, fuck you so deep that all there is left for you to do is survive. Survive this slow, all-consuming fuck, the one you wanted last night but couldn’t have because you were thinking too much. Now you’re not thinking at all, but you still have two braincells that cooperate enough to tell you that he’s about to bust when his breaths turn quicker and huffier against your cheek.

“Don’t come inside!” you squeak, and Joel heeds your wish. He pulls out just as quickly as he entered, and you feel him spill on your ass cheeks, hot and sticky.

You feel empty and cold when he climbs off you. Moving your extremities gingerly, as if expecting them to fall off, you slowly curl up on your side. Joel pulls the covers over you and you’re too dazed to dwell on it. Instead, you let sleep take you away.

///

“You talk in your sleep.”

Your head snaps around to find Joel still in your bed. You have just woken up, stretched, and noted that it’s still dark outside, so you decided to sleep some more, if nothing else then to try to suppress the beginning hangover that you feel just behind your frontal lobe.

“What do I say?” you ask, not sure if you want to know. Joel waits until you’ve settled, then turns onto his side, facing you.

“You talk to someone you call Frankie.”

The name hits you like a sledgehammer in the face, and you feel shattered. Murdered. You haven’t heard that name said out loud in so many years…

“He was my husband,” you whisper, like you were afraid that if you talk about Frankie to anyone, he could turn out to be nothing but a figment of your imagination.

But he’s not. You still wear the rings around your neck to prove that Frankie was real, very real. But his touch has faded from your skin, even if your love for him hasn’t left your heart.

Joel doesn’t say anything, but you can sense the grief in him, burdensome and harsh. You wonder what dead loved ones he carries with him, but you don’t ask. Instead, you inch closer, find his shoulder, and rest your head on it. Your head is heavy, a headache waiting just around the corner to break out, but you feel strangely safe like this. You don’t know anything about Joel, but you trust him.

“Go back to sleep,” you tell him, as if you were old lovers, used to sharing a bed, of falling asleep in each other’s arms. You’re not, however, you’re very new lovers indeed, and Joel is hungry for more. He kisses sleep away from you before mounting you and fucking you with the same slow, steady devastation as earlier. Except for moaning, it is a silent affair with no other communication than the direction of limbs into their right places. He has your legs on his shoulders, hands on the back of your thighs, pressing your legs impossibly down so that you’re almost bent double, trapping you between his rock-hard cock and a sharp spring in the worn-down mattress. Each profound thrust pushes the breath out of you, along with a moan, and shoves the bed against the wall with a low knock that you somehow want the neighbors to hear.

You’re furiously rubbing your clit and when the orgasm rises as a dark shadow to swallow you whole, Joel releases your legs and curls his fingers around your throat instead. You cum hard, mouth open in a silent scream, and in the next second Joel pulls out and paints your pussy and hand with strings of hot cum.

He goes back to sleep with one arm around you. It is not the soft embrace of a lover but the possessive shackle of a broken person who has found someone equally broken to take away their pain, tiny moments at a time.

You raise your hand to your neck, and press at the skin. There’s a bruise forming there, you know. You press it softly, feeling your pulse in the tenderness. Right next to it, the rings are softly clinking against each other.

You don’t think you’ll ever take them off. But you also think that it’s time to stop taking those pills.

[inscrutable-shadow]

only then i am human (only then i am clean) - part one

contains: mild horniness, homoerotic blood drinking, minor nausea (no vomiting), swearing, gore, a disgusting amount of gay pining, whumptober 2023 days 11, 20, and 30 (animal trap, "you will regret touching them," bridal carry)

summary: The Culling War is over, and Thanatos is not the same.

Mariano doesn't have a same to go back to.

Bastian just hopes that he won't have to kill Thanatos when the vampire's ravenous hunger finally takes over.

It's been far too long since Thanatos has had a good meal, after all, and he loves getting himself in hot water.

beginning notes: whoo-wee! i started this as a whumptober fill, and it still is that, but it’s also so, so much more than that now. four times the size and now part of a series i hope to continue in the coming months. so many thanks to @crash-bump-bring-the-whump for letting me borrow his characters, fill his dms with screaming and gay shenanigans at all hours, and for betaing! i have so much more planned for our boys after this so stay tuned :)

also available on ao3! even though i've broken the fic into two, this section is 7.3k words so you might enjoy it more there. (plus you get the ending a day early)

Thanatos was rather surprised at how much fun he was having. When Madame Nocta had initially shown him his redistricting papers, he’d had to step out of the room to stop the choking panic from clawing at his insides. The image of his old life, of returning to his job and his apartment and his lover after so long away, had been the only thing keeping him going for so long that the idea of changing that image made him sick. “It’ll be quiet,” she’d assured him. “No one will know what you are. You can relax, recover. It will be good for you.” Thanatos hadn’t believed her, but now, as the damp wind ruffled his hair and sent ripples over the nearby lake, he was forced to admit this world was rather quaint.

He could almost convince himself it was just like home, at least, before the “engine of progress” had compressed every ounce of magic from the land. The countryside was littered with small villages of wood and stone instead of towering metropoles of metal and glass. The air held none of the heavy odour of burning oil; if anything, it crackled and pulsed with magic in the way the ancient forests had when the fae still inhabited them. If it weren’t for the various ruins that evoked to those in the know the aura of an advanced society, he would have believed it was the ninth century again. Wandering from place to place, offering his eyes, his voice, and his stories to anyone who could use him in exchange for a few coins, and flirting with people in taverns, it was quite akin to the way he’d lived before he’d met the Archfey. One could almost call it idyllic.

“Hey, Thanatos! There you are,” a voice called from behind him, and he turned to see Bastian pushing through the market crowd toward him. “Thought I’d lost you for a bit. Crowd too much for you?”

There was one major difference between this world and his own, and here was a prime example of it: one could tell just by looking that Bastian was a dragon. If the prismatic hair and the horns weren’t a dead giveaway, the shimmering scales certainly were. He wasn’t the only one, either. A vampire blended right in among the varying peoples of this world, and Thanatos didn’t even bother to wear the glasses that obscured his eye color and slitted pupils anymore. He still became rather on edge in the market crowds, but even that he was doing much better with than he had a month ago. He’d been able to drift from stall to stall with the crowd for almost an hour before he’d felt claustrophobic.

Thanatos nodded acknowledgement of Bastian’s presence and alighted from the fencepost. “I just needed some air. Find everything you wanted?” If he recalled correctly, they were supposed to be replenishing supplies after an unfortunate encounter with a river (that had not at all been Thanatos’s fault).

Bastian only shrugged. “He’s the one shopping. Weather’s turning. Ought to get back together with Mariano and head out before it gets too bright for you.”

The sun here burned much brighter than Thanatos was used to, and even cloudy days pricked uncomfortably at his skin. The locals had been kind to him, though, and no one had hesitated to offer him shelter or clothing or food that he inevitably had to refuse. The hat that he was wearing and had reinforced with a layer of Shadow had been forced upon him by a kindly old woman who had noticed his discomfort while he was carrying her shopping for her on a not-so-cloudy afternoon. She couldn’t have known that his refusal to put a square millimetre of exposed skin in direct sunlight was an aversion to screaming immolation and subsequent death, but she’d pushed her hat onto his head anyway, and called him a sweet young man who needed to take better care of himself. That sort of behaviour had by far been the norm, and for that, he was grateful.

“That little basket all you’re getting?” Bastian asked, edging a hand under the fabric cover, but pulling it back when Thanatos swatted at it.

“The two of you have been very kind. I thought that perhaps I could repay the favour by taking care of dinner for tonight.” It had been a long while since he’d had to cook anything, but he still remembered some of the things his mother had taught him, oh so long ago, and he felt the need to provide something other than diverting conversation for once.

Bastian walked ahead of him in the crowd, forging a less constricted path for Thanatos to follow as the pair threaded their way back to the meeting point. “You don’t even eat. How’re you gonna know if it’s any good?”

“I’ll just have to have you taste for me.”

“Sure thing.” The dragon grinned in that toothy way of his, and Thanatos allowed himself a small one in return.

He’d come out to the two of them during the second week. Not about his taste for men: the reality of that oozed from his pores and was apparent in every movement. The wistful stares he threw at every young man who looked even a bit like the Archfey left little room for doubt. About his taste for blood. Thanatos had violated Clandestine Accord and clued two mortals in on the fact that he was a vampire. It hadn’t phased them at all. There were very few things that could rattle Mariano, and Bastian was a dragon. A vampire wasn’t a threat, and so he didn’t care. Thanatos had felt silly for even being slightly anxious about it. The way they looked at each other, talked to each other, to him, he just knew. They’d felt safe. Thanatos hadn’t felt safe in decades. Not since the Culling War.

Twenty-five years of paranoia had turned an easygoing, charismatic Thanatos into a nervous wreck of a man who jumped at every shadow. He’d heard Tenebrus and the Council talking about him: the psychological effects of his job had made him nearly useless at it, and they were planning to replace him. The war had ended before they had the chance, but still. He knew he wasn’t the same man his Archfey had fallen in love with. That thought alone made him want to shatter into a thousand porcelain fragments, but living here had started to fill in the jagged gouges the war had left on his soul. The people were kinder, didn’t treat him like a monster even when they couldn’t know he was one. (Not like home. On Earth Four, even the slightest deviation from the norm had put him at risk of discovery.) He wasn’t constantly on the defensive anymore.

The crowd opened up a bit, and he could now see slightly further ahead. Ah, there was Mariano. His dark hair rose up above most of the bobbing heads of the market-goers, and the soft lines of his face were broken slightly by a brow furrowed in concentration. Comparing products, perhaps? He’s rather particular about the supplies. He was still deep in discussion with a shopkeeper, though from the amount he was carrying, it seemed as if he must be nearly done with his shopping. “I’ll be right back, found something I want to pick up,” Bastian leaned down to whisper in his ear, melting into the crowd again before Thanatos could even respond. He felt a bit nervous in the crowd by himself, but he could see Mariano, at least, and the hat would probably make him easy enough to find again. He found a quiet spot between two stalls, where he was offered a seat and an apple by an old woman selling fruit. With a smile, he accepted the former, but of course not the latter.

The market had been set up in the hollow shell of some ancient building, and most of the shops on this side of the square were peddling foodstuffs of some kind, set up on the raised ground on either side of the makeshift thoroughfare created by the terrain. This particular ruin gave Thanatos the nagging sensation that he was late to catch a train. He supposed it’d be a long time before he saw another train, given his reassignment. It would have been strange to go back to his Earth after a quarter-century of war, anyhow, let alone live in the cottage without the Archfey. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to fit himself back into a fast-paced mortal society now that he’d had the fear of other people forcibly drilled into him. There hadn’t been a moment in the last decade or so when he hadn’t been acutely wary of other vampires out to give him a glowing recommendation to the nearest Reaper. Relax, Than. There aren’t any other vampires in this area, he reminded himself. He had a hundred miles of clearance before he encroached on anyone else’s hunting grounds. Anyone who wanted to mess with him would have Mariano to contend with, anyhow. No one had got through him yet.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

The laugh was like birdsong, and it came from a girl, about nineteen, behind the fruit stand, helping the old woman set out more goods. “You were staring, mister. Do you like the hairpin? My mother made it for me.” Like most of the denizens here, her skin was a deep ochre, with matching eyes that held a mischievous smile and an effortless charm.

He had been staring; he realised. The pin was an array of jasmine-like blooms on a fastening of ebony and amethyst. It looked like something the Archfey would have worn, not in the early days of their relationship when they’d been doing the courtship dance of fey prince and vampire, no, this was something ae would have worn to a coffeehouse date or to the cinema, a coy reminder of the power that lurked behind the mortal disguise. Thanatos summoned up a smile and gave a wry chuckle, hoping his expression didn’t seem tortured. “You remind me of someone, that’s all.” Oh. It was easier than he’d expected to become the charming vampire once again. Maybe he really was getting better.

The girl returned his smile. “Someone you like?” She turned away a little, then met his eyes again.

“Someone I love.”

The grief must have shown through in his eyes for a moment, because the girl’s smile turned sad. “What happened to them?”

He hesitated, deciding how much of his pain was worth pouring out to a stranger. “Gone. Said they would return, but, well. I’ve had to move, and I fear we may never be reunited.” His gaze drifted away toward the shifting clouds. Bastian was right. The weather would clear up soon.

“Take it then,” she said, and his brow furrowed as his eyes returned to look at her. She took his hand in hers and pressed the pin into it. “My mother made it as a good-luck charm. Maybe it will bring the two of you back together.”

Why would she give something like that to a stranger? Part of him wondered if it might be some sort of trap, but he pushed the thought away. Humans weren’t like vampires. Every gesture of goodwill wasn’t a secret power play with them. Sometimes they did these things on a whim, or even out of kindness. It was a foolish thing for her to do, though, so he demurred. “Oh, miss, I couldn’t possibly take such a precious heirloom—”

“Surely you won’t refuse a gift,” she countered, and the expression of mischief on her face melted the last of the ice in his heart. Maybe things truly were looking up.

Thanatos bowed. “Then I shall graciously accept. However,” he added, setting his basket down for a moment, “allow me to return the favour. A charm for a charm. My partner gave this to me a long time ago. It, too, is good luck. May it bring you winds of fortune.” He removed the earring from his right ear, a dangle shaped vaguely like a wreath. In truth, it was a ritual sigil, one of the Archfey’s smallest and subtlest protection blessings. Woven directly from aer magic into metal, he’d worn it for almost two hundred years, and he credited his continued existence a significant amount to the Archfey’s protection rather than any qualities he himself possessed. For a moment, he questioned why he would give away something so precious on a whim, but the girl’s gift had struck a chord with him, made him feel as if the dark days might be over. That was worth the loss of the charm.

The young woman accepted the earring and worked into her own ear, and the two of them shared a smile, and a laugh, and a blush. One couldn’t fault Thanatos for finding comfort in the sweet moment, but of course, the universe saw fit to punish him for allowing himself to relax. “The fuck you think you’re doing, dipshit?” a gruff voice called from behind him. And here we go.

He went for his usual disarming smile. “Ah, you must be the boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” the young lady corrected mildly. Of course he was.

The fiancé in question wasted no time in invading Thanatos’s personal space. “You gotta be stupid to chat up another man’s girl like that.” He folded his arms, probably trying to look intimidating. It was sort of working.

Thanatos’s eyebrows raised. “If that’s what you think flirting looks like, my condolences to your lady-love. I was nothing more than cordial. Aren’t you just the strapping young man though,” he purred. “I cannot fault the lady’s taste.” Now that was flirting. The tried-and-true Thanatos method of getting out of this sort of tight spot was to play up his flamboyance until their discomfort outweighed their indignation. “Baffle them with his bullshit,” as it were. It usually worked long enough for him to work out some method of escape.

“Leave it, Javier. He’s not bothering me. We were just talking,” the girl said, annoyed.

Javier was not dissuaded. “I don’t want random guys feeling like they can talk to you, Violetta. And that didn’t look like talking.”

Thanatos saw this as a chance to cut back in. “I assure you, I have no interest in absconding with your sweetheart. My intentions with her were purely platonic, for my tastes lie elsewhere, if you take my meaning.”

From the way Javier picked him up by his collar, Thanatos got the idea that he might not have understood some of those words. “Are you saying you don’t think she’s pretty? Take it back right now!”

Oh, by the celestial river… Annoyance ignited in Thanatos’s chest, and he was firing back before he could think about it. “I didn’t say she wasn’t pretty, you oaf. I said I was fucking gay! By the Divines, humans grow ever more stupid. I’m married too, if it matters—”

“Is there a problem here?” Oh, thank fuck. Mariano, his knight in shining armour once again. Part of him orchestrated these scenarios intentionally just to have a chance to see the mage work. Bastian was hanging back, presumably to watch the show. He gave Thanatos a little wave and a grin and appeared to have found himself some sort of drink. Typical Bastian.

Javier looked Mariano up and down. Tall and broad, the dark-skinned mage certainly carried his share of scars, from the clearly deliberate burns on his arms to the blade-mark under his jawline. Thanatos thought it added charm to the soft lines of Mariano’s face, especially when he smiled, which was often if Thanatos had anything to do with it. He was not smiling now. Mariano’s default expression was blank, unreadable, which combined with the silver-white pact rings around his dark irises and his subtle but not-insignificant musculature lent him quite the imposing air. Even behind the dark-rimmed glasses, it was clear that Mariano was not a man to be trifled with.

Undeterred, likely due to a lack of basic survival instinct, Javier pressed on. “Sure is. Your friend here’s about to eat shit for fucking with my girl. Unless you’d like to eat it for him?” Now, that was borderline suicidal. If he hadn’t known Mariano as well as he did, Thanatos would have expected a bloodbath.

Mariano looked up at Thanatos, still dangling in the air with an expression that read “I’m sorry, please save me again.” He didn’t speak, just removed his casting dagger from his belt, held it up, and ignited the blade, his war mage’s magic shooting up through the hilt and heating the metal until it glowed. A single eyebrow shifted, challenging Javier to try him.

“You really don’t want to fight him,” Thanatos supplied, helpfully.

Javier looked as if he might try it anyway, but Violetta read the situation correctly. Smart girl. “Let’s just go, Javier. I’m fine, it’s not worth it!” she implored, pulling on his arm.

A moment’s hesitation, then the brute relented. “Whatever,” he spat, and threw Thanatos down. The vampire sat down hard in the dirt, hat askew, but that was better than having his neck wrung on what had otherwise been a fairly pleasant afternoon. His basket was down here too, fortunately undamaged. “Let’s go, Violetta.” Javier stalked off, pushing through the crowd.

Thanatos let out a heavy sigh of relief. He took the hand Mariano stretched down toward him and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. “You okay?” Mariano asked, observing his slanted hat and open collar. Thanatos felt the heat rising in his face.

He cleared his throat. “Quite all right, thanks to you, once again. Just in time, too.” He had to stop doing this. As entertaining as it was to be rescued time and time again, the risk to his person was too high. Mariano might save him, but not necessarily before he was seriously damaged.

“You have to stop doing this, I’m not always going to show up right when you need me, you know.” Mariano picked up the basket from the ground and handed it to Thanatos, who suddenly thought he might repeat the whole procedure again tomorrow.

“Oh, but you do it so well! The spectacle, the cinema! You play quite the dashing hero,” he enthused, attempting to distract from how hot he suddenly felt under his silk shirt.

Mariano looked away, probably looking for his dragon in the crowd. It was difficult to tell with Mariano, but Thanatos got the idea he might have said something wrong. Fortunately for him, Bastian returned, amused as usual. “Thought you were going to teach him a lesson. Too bad you let him get away.”

“Wasn’t worth it.” Mariano shrugged. “He was just a blowhard, and I’m sure Than started it, anyway.” He accepted his bag back from Bastian and instinctively sorted through it, as was his habit.

“I’m sure I resent that remark!” Thanatos spluttered, but before he could really get going with his retort, Violetta pushed her way back through the crowd toward them.

“I’m sorry about him. You didn’t deserve that. I should go, but here, take this. For your friend with the pretty eyes.” She pressed a meat bun into his hand and vanished again.

Thanatos blinked in momentary confusion, then held the pastry out to Mariano, who also seemed confused. “Me?”

“I think it’s relatively clear she didn’t mean Bastian. No offense meant, of course.”

Bastian grinned. “None taken. Eat it, Mariano, looks good. If you won’t, I will.”

“But your eyes-” Mariano began, meaning Thanatos’s crimson ones rather than Bastian’s white-silver.

“Oh? Taken your fancy, have they?” It came out more flirtatious than he’d intended, he was having trouble shaking off the performance. “Alluring as they may be, I already have a gift from the lady, and I can’t eat it anyhow. Take the bread and the compliment, mortal mage.” One would have to be blind to fail to acknowledge that Mariano was attractive, in Thanatos’s opinion, but Mariano didn’t seem to process it the same way.

“I- okay.” He didn’t seem convinced, but he always looked like that.

Better to just distract him, then. “Good show, Mariano. Another innocent man rescued, another reward earned. Let’s move on before I am reduced to ash, eh?” That was something he was actually worried about, not just a diversionary tactic. The clouds were moving uncomfortably quickly, hurried on by the wind.

“Wouldn’t want to have to scoop him up off of the ground. That’d take ages,” Bastian joked. Mariano laughed, and all was right with the world again.

#

As Bastian had predicted, the sky was nearly clear when the sun finally slipped below the horizon. The particular corner of the glade where they had built the fire was sufficiently shaded for Thanatos not to have to focus on protecting himself from the light. Not that he had much else to do than leaf through his well-worn copy of Theogonia, which had managed to survive the war tucked into a corner of his briefcase. He didn’t need to read the pages anymore, so many times had he been over these same words in the two thousand years since this particular edition had been published, but turning the leaves and skimming the familiar passages was of comfort to him, a habit he’d developed to unwind after a long day. The woods were quiet except for the soft chirping of insects and the scrape of Mariano’s knife against the whetstone.

“Is it done yet?” This was the fourth time Bastian had asked in the last hour. Thanatos didn’t blame him. The tantalising aroma of slow-cooked meat rising from the stew pot filled the air and stimulated the appetite. His sense of smell had shifted since becoming a vampire, but if one thing had remained the same, the scent still took him back to his childhood, helping his mother by the stove.

“Not quite.” Thanatos gave the pot a stir and tested the meat with the spoon. “About ten more minutes.”

Bastian groaned. “That’s what you said ten minutes ago.”

“No, ten minutes ago I said twenty minutes.”

“Fifteen,” said Mariano, inspecting the blade’s edge in the firelight.

“Hm?” It was the first time Mariano had spoken in an hour or so. Thanatos hadn’t even known he was listening.

The scraping resumed. “You said fifteen minutes. Ten minutes ago.”

“Did I?” Thanatos couldn’t recall, but if Mariano thought so, it must be true.

“Yeah.” There was a beat of silence, and then the rustle of a page and the scrape of the whetstone.

The pot simmered happily despite Bastian’s impatient scrutiny. “Can’t we just eat it now?”

Mariano laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait, Bastian. We can’t all eat raw meat, you know. Though maybe next time pick something that doesn’t take as long, Than.”

Thanatos gave a snort of mock-indignation. “Genius cannot be rushed, mortal mage. This is an heirloom recipe passed down to me by my mother.” They’d had servants to cook for them, of course. A magistrate’s wife would never have been expected to do that sort of thing, but Thanatos’s mother had loved every part of the process from selecting ingredients to serving. She’d taught him to cut vegetables and to know when meat was tender. It was incredibly rare for him to need to use those skills, but his hands knew what to do. In a way, it was as if his mother was still alive.

True to his estimate, the stew was ready in about ten minutes. Bastian would have been happy to eat the meat before it was cooked, and if Thanatos was careful, he could sip at the tomato base without making himself ill, but it was Mariano’s opinion that mattered.

Fortunately, the mage’s first spoonful earned a smile. “It’s good!”

Thanatos sighed with relief. “I’m glad you find it so. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve had the occasion to cook, you understand.”

“It doesn’t show. It’s just too bad you can’t taste it,” Mariano said, attacking another spoonful. That dispelled the last of Thanatos’s worries that he was just saying it to be nice. Even if that would have been out of character for someone so straightforward, the apprehension was habitual.

“Oh, I remember it well enough. Enjoy it in my stead.”

“Doesn’t it make you hungry, watching other people eat?” Bastian mused, though most of his attention was caught up in finding more bits of tender meat to fish out of the stew, which Thanatos took as a victory.

He shrugged. “Mortal food is, at best, unappetizing to me at this point. My senses of taste and smell are so altered that it doesn’t register to my mind as consumable.” He was hungry, though, he realised. It had been three days since he’d eaten last: though he’d gone out yesterday and the day before, he’d been unlucky and had found no one else wandering the wilds.

House Iuventae contracts rarely came with non-sapient sustenance clauses. The Shadow could tell the difference, and if Thanatos tried to cheat, it would punish him for it with days of nausea and cramps. It was for that reason that he preferred to eat every other day if he could. A human could survive a litre of blood loss much more easily than two or three. It looked as if he’d actually have to kill today if he didn’t want to lose control of himself later, though. He’d made peace with the concept millennia ago — or so he told himself, but drinking only prepared blood during the war had brought back a vague discomfort. Prudence told him to avoid specific details when discussing it with the others, regardless. He didn’t want to know what they’d truly think of him.

Oblivious to Thanatos’s introspection, Bastian had come up with a theory of his own. “But if you dried it out or whatever, made it into flour, couldn’t you make, say, blood bread or some shit like that?”

“Well, yes, actually. House Nocta does extensive research on alternative ways to prepare blood. Whether it’s edible depends on one’s specific contract. I have a special provision that allows me to consume most liquids, but anything solid makes me ill, blood-based or otherwise.” He didn’t regret it. He was happy to never taste cake again in exchange for still being able to drink wine. The stew he was sipping at was still rather flavourless, though.

“It’s so interesting that your people have found different ways to work with your condition,” said Mariano.

Was it? Thanatos had never thought so. “Necessity is the mother of invention. But enough about vampires. Shall I read you out a story tonight?”

This got Bastian’s attention. “Do the one with the king and the wild man. I like that one.”

“Ah, yes, the epic of Gilgamesh.” He didn’t have a copy of that one in his carpetbag, but he could do the first hour or so from memory, and pick up the book from the Archfey’s later if he needed it. (If he could bear it. The sight of the empty house had made him feel hollow the last time he’d been.) He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and when next he opened them, his voice had changed to that of the orator. “This is one of the oldest stories in the world, about two thousand years older than me, even. Translated from the tablets of an ancient civilization, large segments of the story are missing, but what we do have tells the story of a mighty king and his quest to discover the secret of immortality. Let me tell you of a man who had seen everything, whom the god Anu had granted all knowledge, who had seen secrets and hidden things, even from the time before the Flood.”

As usual, his audience was rapt, caught up by his words and taken to a time five millennia in the past, when giants walked the earth. He’d go hunting later in the evening, once the magic of ancient fable faded to that of the sandman’s sleep.

#

Thanatos leaned against a tree and tied his hair up into a low ponytail. He’d left his travelling jacket back at the camp as well, leaving him in just his silk shirt, tie, and trousers. The less restricted his movement was, the better, and it had the benefit of making him look younger and less careworn. He hated this, really. When he talked and laughed with Mariano and Bastian, he could pretend that he was perfectly ordinary, still fully human, but when he hunted, it was clear that he was anything but. He wasn’t even an ambush predator like Tenebrus or most other hunting vampires, the sharpening of his senses and the way his night vision flattened everything into shades of grey save for outlines of delicious scarlet around everything with a heartbeat was of little use to him. All it did was remind him how little humanity was left in him.

In his element, Thanatos was a honey trap, an attractive, confident, charismatic man whom others would gladly follow into a dark alley for a tryst — with perhaps a little hypnotic encouragement. It fit his personality quite well, and he’d been able to carve a niche out for himself in both vampiric society and back on Earth Four. He was the very picture of a Iuventus, a man of words taken with alcohol and sex and other pleasures of the flesh. Or at least he had been. Before everything. He wanted very badly to return to feeling like that man. (If he thought about it too hard, he’d realise that luring people into the night to be devoured was also rather monstrous, so he didn’t.)

Right now, his priority was to return to the village and civilization. He was still getting back into the rhythm of pursuing prey, hunting instead of being hunted. It felt good to be out at night instead of having to worry about the sun surprising him. He decided to just try to enjoy the sense of freedom. Moving at a vampire’s speed, the wind singing through his hair, the moonlight lightly caressing his skin. All the horrors of the war: the daily grind of waking up, infiltrating a location, and running away that made him feel as if the dust and grime of the road soaked into his soul. That was all behind him now. He was an ordinary vampire now, without obligations or debts, free to eat and sleep and do whatever else his heart desired.

He really should have learned his lesson from earlier in the day. Stay on your toes, don’t stop to enjoy things. Don’t dare believe you’re out of the woods. You developed that paranoia for a reason. It was his own fault he was now lying on his back on the forest floor, his ankle held fast by a metal cord. One moment, he’d been darting through the trees trying to cover distance, and the next his head had hit a tree root and sent stars exploding behind his eyes. How long had he been unconscious? Ten seconds or ten minutes?

The impact alone might have killed a mortal, but Thanatos was merely concussed. Confusedly, he tried to pull his ankle free, and only succeeded in tightening the cable around the unfortunate limb. He would leave this part out whenever he told the story afterward, but in truth, he panicked. The idea of being trapped again, being captured again, was too much for him. His nails scrabbled for purchase in the soft loam, fighting to take him somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here. His vision tinted red, his own too-loud heartbeat overwhelming his heightened senses. It felt as if it were another person who was thrashing and kicking, desperately trying to get away and only tightening the wire until it cut down to the bone.

He flinched at the snap of a branch, close, too close. “Well, well. Look what I got here. You ain’t a cougar, are you, buddy?” The voice was rough and belonged to a banjo-string sort of man now crouching three metres away.

This should have been his salvation. If Thanatos had been in his right mind, he would have turned on the charm and begged this man for help. But no. He’d been hungry too long; his Shadow was too close to the surface, converting his stress response from fawn to flight. He didn’t even know what small indication he must have picked up on, or perhaps he truly was the animal for which the trap had been originally purposed — but before he knew it, he’d drawn back toward the tree, hissing and baring his fangs.

The man only grinned. “Who-wee, ain’t you a feisty one? Hold on, red eyes, dark hair… You’re the fucker Javier was tellin’ us about, tryin’ to muscle up on his girl. Oh, he’s gonna love this. What kind of freak are you, anyway, with teeth like that?” Oh, fucking fantastic. They’d set him up on a world where people didn’t believe in vampires, and here he was screwing it up. “Eh, doesn’t matter. Wait ’til I get Javier and the guys. It’s gonna be a riot! Not like you have much of a choice but to sit, though, huh?” The man laughed cruelly and wandered off.

Alone again. Thanatos was used to how this sort of thing went by now. The hunter would come back with a group of men, and they would kick Thanatos around until they were tired of him, and then they would probably “kill” him and dump his body somewhere. He’d wait until they left and drag himself off to lick his wounds. It would be tolerable. He would just have to endure.

#

Mariano was pacing again. Bastian watched him for a few minutes, hoping he would come back to bed, but eventually gave up. “Something on your mind?”

“Than’s not back yet.” Bastian had to admit that was strange. Thanatos had never been gone for over four hours before. He’d usually slip away an hour or two after dusk and return just after midnight, blood-drunk and stifling hiccups. He should have been back three hours ago.

“You want to go after him?” Mariano nodded. Bastian had already got to his feet. He knew Mariano well enough by now to know he couldn’t just stand by. “It’s a lot of ground to cover. What if we don’t find him?”

“He probably went back to the village. We can start that way and fan out if we need to. It’s all well and good if he comes back on his own, but if he’s in trouble…” Mariano trailed off, his pensive gaze wandering toward the forest and taking his feet with it.

Bastian doused the fire and moved to catch up. “I’m sure he just fell asleep somewhere,” he commented, but knew as soon as the words were spoken that they were false. Than didn’t sleep anywhere he didn’t feel safe, and definitely not by accident. When they’d first met, the two of them had spent three days in a stalemate waiting for the other to fall asleep first. It had become clear by then that Thanatos wasn’t even slightly a threat, but Bastian had had to be the one to give up on the whole thing. Than hadn’t seemed like he could, even if he’d wanted to. Even utter exhaustion couldn’t convince his body to rest if it wasn’t safe.

No, it was much more likely that he’d managed to get himself into a situation he couldn’t get himself out of. At this point, it happened so often that Bastian wondered if Thanatos did it on purpose just to enjoy the privilege of having Mariano rescue him. Not that he could blame him. Mariano took on the “knight in shining armour” role quite handsomely, all shining blade and “put him down” and “let him go.” If the mage didn’t have such a tendency to hurt himself while taking care of others, it might have been worth trying himself, but he’d seen what lengths Mariano would push himself to in order to save him. If the idiot got himself killed, it’d be much less fun.

Tracking Thanatos wasn’t difficult. The vampire didn’t have any particular abilities that lent themselves to obscure a trail. He’d been moving quickly, but not particularly quietly. They heard the commotion up ahead before they saw it: a group of about ten people, talking and yelling and throwing spears, rocks, and crossbow bolts, all centred on a tree at the edge of the clearing. The place looked like a war zone. Broken branches littered the forest floor, some splashed with dark red. Black liquid pooled in some places and flowed in others, streaming down from holes in the surrounding trees that looked like they’d been punctured with incredible force. A mass of dark hair and torn fabric, stained with blood, lay at the foot of the central tree. The same black liquid guttered weakly into a half-dome in an attempt to stop more projectiles, but couldn’t hold its shape and joined the rest of the dark splatters on the ground. Surely that wasn’t…?

Another rock bounced off of the figure’s shoulder, leaving behind a line of red that spilled down the pale skin exposed by his ruined sleeve. He shifted and some of the hair fell to the side, revealing a single scarlet eye, darting from side to side, searching for an escape. The leader of the pack, recognizable as the brute from earlier in the day, hurled another stone that struck the wounded creature across the temple. A yelp of pain rang out, but then the shape was silent.

“I think I finally got him!” Javier exclaimed. “How much do you think they’ll pay for his head?”

Mariano had already come to his conclusion. “Leave him.” Despite the lack of exclamation point, his voice was clear and cold and had an impressive volume that carried it well enough to make the rabble stop what they were doing.

Javier turned to see who had spoken. “You again? Seems like you really want trouble. Why do you care so much about this monster, anyway? All it wanted was the steal our people away in the night. I did this town a favour by exterminating it.”

“You’ll regret laying hands on him.” A statement of fact, not a threat. Mariano never threatened.

Javier snorted. “I don’t think so. Maybe I should take care of you, too, for protecting that thing. Boys!” At his command, the scattered hunters left off taking potshots at Thanatos and aimed their weapons at the new threat.

Bastian loved watching this part. Mariano fought like a wild thing, with a magic that was hungry, ruthlessly efficient and utterly without mercy. In some ways, one could say he fought like a dragon. Bastian couldn’t afford to be distracted watching his mage work, though. Rescuing Thanatos was more important, and so he refocused, his new objective heavily discouraging any of Javier’s goons from running to his aid.

#

Mariano let out a deep breath and put his magic away. The smell of charred flesh rose over the scent of the forest at night — more of which was Bastian’s work than his, if he was honest. “We’re all clear now, Than. Are you all right?” The figure by the tree made no sound, and Bastian threw Mariano an inquisitive glance. He elected to approach, wanting to see if that last rock had knocked the vampire unconscious.

Unconscious he was not, and the speed at which he withdrew toward the perceived safety of the tree surprised even Mariano. The curtain of his hair obscured his face, and it was a bit unsettling the way the glowing red eyes watched Mariano through the tangle, pupils narrowed into slits with none of the good humour or charm he was used to seeing in them. If the vampire weren’t wearing Thanatos’s clothes — or, rather, what was left of them — he’d almost believe it wasn’t Than he was watching at all. Thanatos’s eyes showed no recognition, only wary apprehension, as if he were waiting for Mariano to reveal threatening intent. Was he too far gone to realize who they were?

Mariano continued to approach, slowly, giving Thanatos time to track his movements. “You’re safe now,” he murmured. “It’s just me. It’s Mariano, you know me. Bastian’s here too. Let him see you, Bastian.” Bastian approached as he was told, but Thanatos backed away, which pulled taut a thin wire around his ankle. The metal had cut into his flesh to the point that white bone was visible amidst the mess of pink and red. “That hurts a lot, doesn’t it? Let us help you. We’ll get that off of you and get you somewhere we can treat it, okay?” He could only hope that their potions would work on a vampire. It didn’t look at all treatable otherwise.

Thanatos remained silent. That was the weirdest thing about it. The Thanatos Mariano knew rarely stopped talking: his presence was a constant stream of words about everything and nothing, almost as if he were afraid to stop. Right about now, he would usually apologise profusely for needing to be rescued at all and be on the verge of composing an epic ballad about their combat prowess, maybe a little worse for wear but trying hard not to show it. As Mariano approached, all he could hear were the harsh exhales forcing themselves through the vampire’s nose. That it wasn’t broken was a miracle, considering the state of the rest of his face. Thanatos did a good job of not looking like a corpse most days, but the bruising mottling his cheeks and over his eyes appeared distinctly post-mortem. Tear tracks, long dried, were visible under the blood and dirt. And yet, through it all, he looked not fearful exactly, but… vigilant. Distrustful. He hadn’t given up at all. He was just waiting to see what else he would have to endure.

Mariano tried again. “Thanatos? Bastian’s gonna get that cord off of you, okay? And then you can just come to me. We’ll take you somewhere safe.” Thanatos still didn’t seem to hear, but Bastian’s approach certainly got his attention, eliciting a growl from deep within the vampire’s chest.

“Doesn’t seem like he wants our help,” Bastian murmured, slowing, but not stopping.

“He’s just afraid.” This was a sound like a cornered animal, not like a predator, ready to fight if he had to, but wanting to avoid it. “We can’t just leave him like this. He’ll understand once the wire’s gone.” At least, he probably would. “It’s okay, Than. Come to me, you’ll be safe. You trust me, right?” Mariano could only hope Thanatos did. It certainly seemed like it, given how quickly he’d started to account for the mage in his plans. Would that trust be able to cut through whatever was going on with him?

The growl became louder as the distance between Bastian and Thanatos closed, and escalated into a hiss when he got close enough to touch the wire. It was Mariano’s turn to fill the air with words, anything to distract Thanatos long enough for Bastian to do his thing. If Than tried to run again, he’d probably make everything worse. “Eyes on me, Than, that’s it. I know you’re scared. He won’t hurt you. We’re friends. You know that. You remember us. We’re going to get you out of here, and then we’ll make your leg stop hurting.” Mariano extended a hand toward his injured friend, proving that he held no weapon and no ill intent. It was up to Thanatos to believe him, if he even could right now.

Everything happened at once. A rush of dragon fire, the twang of metal parting from metal. Thanatos lunged toward Mariano at lightning speed, covering the distance between them before Bastian could even shout a warning. White-hot pain, a burst of warm blood, wet, lips, tongue, breath, a dull thud, blackness.

part 2 up tomorrow!

taglist: @athenswrites, @albatris, @thethistlegirlwrites

[bitimdrake]

Could you expand on how you think Ravens chaveater has changed from the show? I started reading NTT after your comic guide and she still seems to behave somewhat the same way so maybe im just missing something. This is fully in good faith btw not trying to like say youre wrong or anything <3

Yes! Sorry this one took me a bit. Trying to get my thoughts in order. I watched the animated show as a kid, got into comics later, and I thought the differences between Raven in the show and in New Teen Titans were so huge and clear that I'd never really tried putting it to words before.

Context for everyone: imo the original version of Raven existed from her introduction in New Teen Titans 1980 to the early 2000s, before they heavily changed her for the 2003 cartoon, and then that popular depiction bled into her comics counterpart ever since.

So I think the best thing is to just contrast NTT Raven and animated Raven. I'm going to start with three concrete differences:

Ages. Raven, like most of the team, is notably younger in the show than NTT. I don't think the show ever declared ages, but they definitely come across as in their young/mid teens to me--teenagers, but still kids. On the flip side, Raven was already ~18 when introduced in the comics. NTT is very much a story about young adults (plus their kid teammate Changeling), and that's inherently a different vibe.

Style. Animated Raven is ultimate goth girl, dark and edgy. NTT Raven is more boho in style, wears a lot of bright or light colors, is vegetarian, etc. The costuming here isn't so much the important part as that personal style is a fundamental part of character design.

Powers. Both Ravens have general magic powers including various utilities like teleportation. But her primary power in the show was a newly invented telekinetic one, visually represented by turning things black. That didn't exist in the original comics. NTT focused largely on her empathic and healing powers: she can sense people's pain, and she can take that pain into herself to heal them. iirc I think she heals at some point in the show, but it's a minor piece, whereas it's her Main Thing in the comics run.

(Tangent here: most of these changes have very clear reasoning for fitting with the show. The characters are younger because it's for a younger audience and has a wackier tone. Raven was given a new fight-based power because it's an actiony cartoon with lots of fighting. But the goth thing seems purely by choice.)

Those three things are all in some ways aesthetic, but each one influences or reflects her personality as well. And they come together to indicate the overall character. So, to the slightly more subjective analysis:

I would say animated Raven is defined by being monotone, wry and sarcastic, secretive, and reserved.

I would say NTT Raven is defined by being gentle, compassionate, shy, and reserved.

The only thing in common on those lists is "reserved"; they're both introverts. They do have other personality details in common: sometimes feeling overwhelmed by their empathic powers, keeping friends at arm's length out of fear, sometimes coming off as exceptionally mysterious.

But they're very different character concepts! Animated Raven is the snarky goth girl; NTT Raven is the sweet wallflower. Suppressing her every emotion is a key element of Raven's character concept in the show, but not so present in the comics. Constantly taking other's pain onto herself is a key element of Raven in NTT, but not really part of the show.

Animated Raven is prickly, deadpan in her humor, has a lot of defenses to get through; she can never truly emote because of her powers. NTT Raven is earnest, keeps herself separate mostly just because she's shy, and doesn't have to worry about expressing herself when she feels confident enough to do so.

You may disagree with this reading! Personality analysis is always subjective! It's also possible that the aura of mystery around Raven early in NTT obscures some of these traits until later!

But imo, they are very, very different characters.

And after the show started airing, I see a distinct shift in Raven's comic appearances to match. She's aged down to be younger than she ever was, ~16 instead of long-since an adult. She's more snarky, less sweet. She adopts the goth thing. And her visual design has slowly shifted away from its first incarnation as well.

To end on a note of pure personal opinion: I love both versions. I was obsessed with Raven from the show as a kid. I adore the Raven in the New Teen Titans comics. But I kinda wish they had never been blended together. Goth Raven is cool, but her becoming the overriding default has wiped out the old Raven entirely, and I miss that sweet girl </3

[bug-the-chicken-nug]

i know this isn't really The Point they're going for in v9 but man i wish Alyx could just be like.

Genuinely a really sweet, caring, sensitive kind of girl, with the flaws that can come with that instead: Shy, naive, a crybaby, kind of a coward, scared to hurt anyone's feelings, etc.

With the theme of her original story being that it's about learning to stand up for yourself and others, while also staying true to yourself.

Because in the context of her being a black girl (girls typically read as more "naturally" mean and aggressive) and her being in a show about girls who are all supposed to be conventionally strong and brave and good at fighting, this *does* actually loop back to being subversive, and it could be used in some genuinely interesting ways.

Mainly I'm thinking of the girls like originally discussing the story in a way that indicates their culture sees it as a "babyish" story. In the early volume, Yang and Weiss keep taking cheap shots at it all and rolling their eyes at their memories of what a boring little goody-two-shoes Alyx was, and how trite and childish it all seemed even when they were little kids themselves.

Blake tries to defend it, but they don't take her defenses too seriously, while Ruby is too moody to have much input on it either way, but Yang mentions that even Ruby mostly only liked it for the bright colors.

And then a lot more denizens turn out to remember and miss Alyx, in the case of ruder or blunter ones often straight up making commentary about how the girls don't measure up to her.

This offends the group at first, because to be fair some of these comments really are pretty fuckin uncalled for, and plus, they just don't really... Get it.

Despite Alyx hating to fight and having been written as crying and shaking the one time the events of the book forced her to, despite her not even actually *winning* that fight, almost everyone here seems to regard her as more heroic and admirable than our mains.

And Ruby is the first to truly see why: Because for all of her faults, at least Alyx was always *careful* and *considerate*. Alyx always admitted it when she needed help, and didn't try to bite off more than she could chew. Alyx was patient and diplomatic, she *listened* to people, didn't make promises she couldn't keep, and didn't even have a Semblance, but still managed to make things *better* for each character she met, not *worse*.

Meanwhile, the group has still just been causing trouble everywhere they turn up, and they're starting to realize that they can't blame *all* of this on the Afterans just being weird.

This would also end up tying in well with the troubled reaction Ruby has to getting Crescent Rose back, although I would not have Jaune have it, and only have Ruby get it back after an epiphany about how she doesn't actually *need* it to do what's right, or to have a positive impact on others, but keep her conflicted emotions on finding it again, as the weapon reminds her of her own past overconfidence and recklessness, her own belief that she could both literally and metaphorically just cut right through anyone or anything that didn't agree with her.

Also as much as a ton of people hate Jaune right now I honestly think he would've been a cool "villain" to illustrate the flipside of these messages. Like. Neo's great and all but she feels really superfluous and not exactly compelling enough to be the primary villain of the volume at this point.

I'm imagining Jaune being the same age, but the one with Penny's sword now, physically unable to let go of it, in some sort of daze of grief and self-loathing that's being further amplified by some aspect of the Ever After.

He is driven chiefly by a belief by if he'd only been "stronger", everything would've been better.

And in a twisted way, he gets his wish.

It turns out his Semblance can actually resonate with and empower a lingering "imprint" of Aura in Penny's sword to both make it stronger and to give him a sort of bastardized shadow of the Winter Maiden powers.

(Winter still has the "real" version, this is like explicitly a twisted, harmful bootleg version that would also be animated differently from any other usage of Maiden abilities.)

Using it harms him as well, and it's noted that Jaune seriously might eventually freeze himself to death just by continuing to hold on to the sword. His presence is also always preceded by a sudden chill.

Ruby quickly realizes and begins to have a crisis over the implication of Jaune being able to tap into a lingering fragment of Penny's Aura.

Namely, does that mean Penny is in some way... *actually still there?* And potentially *suffering*?

You could use the blacksmith lady to like foreshadow and then kinda explain how all of this is even a thing, so it's less confusing.

And then we get an actual answer to this question! 'Cause the big climax of the volume is now Jaune smacking the group around, they just barely get the upper hand again, and then Jaune uses the last of his strength, shifts the sword into MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE, everything looks Real Bad, but then...

The sword just... Explodes?

And out comes Penny's glowy green Aura ghost, who Jaune inadvertantly powered up enough for her to materialize herself, and whose first order of business is to turn around and briefly apologize before slapping the shit out of Jaune... Which goes right through him physically, but DOES seem to be able to immediately exorcize whatever horseshit was corrupting him.

Her second order of business is to be like "FINALLY! NOW maybe you'll LISTEN to me, Jaune!"

While Ruby is just standing there gaping like "A."

Before anyone (including the audience) can get their hopes up, Penny quickly explains that this is likely only a temporary affair brought about by how much Jaune has strengthened her, and that she can "already feel herself fading", but then smiles and adds on that she's super excited to see Ruby (likely followed by trying and failing to tackle-hug her because that just makes Penny fly straight through her)

Ruby, still, except this time she's clearly tearing up: "A,,,"

Followed by a conversation where Ruby gets closure and Jaune comes clean, but then Ruby confesses that honestly, even with Penny trying to tell her that she asked to be sacrificed and that Ruby should forgive Jaune... Ruby can't. At least not yet.

Ruby ruefully adds "No wonder nobody here really likes me..." to that, to which Penny immediately replies

"But *I* like you!"

And Ruby just scoffs and goes "Do you? Even though your death is my fault too?"

And Penny just sadly replies "Of course. Do you really have so little faith in me?", which kinda gets to Ruby, as it reminds her that her funk is negatively affecting others too. And that in a way, insisting that she's the worst person in the world is still a form of self-centeredness, just as it was to believe that she had all the answers.

She's silent until Penny begins noticeably fading away and dissolving into particles of light, which has Ruby going "Wait! Don't go! Jaune! Jaune, do something!"

But Jaune is of course Spent As Fuck and also probably has lowkey been struggling to stay conscious through this whole conversation, so they have no choice but to make this quick.

Penny gives Ruby one last fond, sorrowful look and says "I'm sorry not everything can go like it does in this story, Ruby. But you? You're still *writing* your story. And I for one can't wait to see how it ends! "

"You're not going to, though! You're never going to, because you-because you're-"

"Once again, Ruby: Do you really have so little faith in me?" Penny says with a teasing grin, before disappearing completely.

Aaand thats a wrap.

Yes it's weird and kind of cheesy, but your honor, my defense is that this whole show is weird and kind of cheesy.

[theunwellkingdom]

Design Deep-Dive #10: From Concept to Card

Iteration is crucial to good design. Your first ideas are rarely your best, and especially when designing an entire set of cards, it's impossible to know exactly how everything will interact until you actually sit down and play with it. One of the clearest examples of this is the card Mesmir's Betrayal, which required a drastic overhaul to find its niche!

Let's take a look at how this card went from rough concept, to one of the most exciting cards in the set!

1. Concept

Mesmir's Betrayal is a top-down design, meaning I started from the theming and flavor and had to build mechanics to fit (as opposed to bottom-up design, where the mechanical effects come first and narrative theming is decided later). In this case, I knew three things:

Mesmir was a powerful NPC wizard who betrayed our heroes at the end of a pivotal arc.

I'd already drawn art of this story beat that would be perfect for a card.

In this set, Red and Blue are all about Wizards, so this card should be a big, flashy payoff in those colors! Ideally, if you're playing lots of Wizards, this card should be able to close out the game.

2. First Draft

After a bit of thought, this was the first version of the card I printed out:

{2}🔥 Instant Rare

Until end of turn, target Wizard gains +3/+0, first strike, trample, and "Whenever this creature deals combat damage to a creature, exile that creature."

Cycling 💧 (💧, Discard this card: Draw a card.)

I really wanted to lean into the idea of a Wizard turning around and becoming a lethal threat! So this first draft operated as a combat trick that gives a scary stack of keywords a la Kaldra Compleat.

However, the way it's written, it would do absolutely nothing without a Wizard already in play. I decided this would be a good opportunity to split the Red and Blue identities of the card into two modal effects -- you could spend 🔥 for the aggressive combat trick, and 💧 to simply cycle the card away and draw a new one, if the situation didn't line up. It didn't feel like a perfect compromise, but it was good enough for the testing phase.

3. Playtesting

After several playtests, I began to realize that this card didn't operate the way I'd hoped. Frankly, it didn't operate at all -- even in tests where players had access to the card and were playing lots of Wizards in their deck, this card just wasn't making the cut. Instead, I focused on what was working with those decks, to see why this didn't fit into the gameplan and came away with several insights:

A combat trick feels useless to a non-combat-focused deck. The Izzet Wizards archetype wants to sling spells, not rely on pushing damage through combat. While it's important for those decks to have Wizards on board, their main role is to enhance other instants and sorceries, and to provide good targets for Concentration auras.

The buff feels unnecessarily complex. All those stats and keywords can be difficult to parse and make the card easier to dismiss. It feels flashy and scary, which is great, but it might as well read "Target Wizard gets +3/+0 and unblockable."

The card feels small. Making this card a 3-drop doesn't give it the impression of a big finisher. As flashy as the buff is, it doesn't feel like an effect that's likely to end the game on the spot.

It ignores too many Blue subthemes. Blue decks in this set have a lot of support for completely different angles, especially hand and library manipulation. If this card could hook into those synergies somehow, it might be more attractive to players.

It's not really "betraying" anything. Sure, making a Wizard suddenly good at combat does a decent job of conveying Mesmir's sudden heel-turn, but it doesn't quite capture the scope of our story: a man throwing his entire community into ruin for a chance at personal gain, a desperate but calculated final gambit!

With all this in mind, I was ready to push Mesmir's Betrayal to the next level...

4. Iteration

{4}🔥🔥 Sorcery 198/275 Rare

Mesmir's Betrayal deals 2 damage to any target. Wizardstorm (When you cast this spell, exile any number of target Wizards you control and/or Wizard cards from your hand. Copy this spell for each Wizard exiled this way. You may choose new targets for the copies.) Wizardcycling {1}💧 ({1}💧, Discard this card: Search your library for a Wizard card, reveal it, put it into your hand, then shuffle.)

Deal 2 damage. Wizardstorm. Wizardcycling.

Now we're talking.

It's risky to commit an entire brand-new keyword for this single card, but I just couldn't pass up the chance to play on the infamous Storm mechanic of MtG past! Instead of copying the spell for each other card played this turn, Mesmir's Betrayal lets you trade off your Wizards for damage, either decimating your own board or cashing out your hand to potentially reach lethal levels of burn!

Wizardstorm also provides an extremely satisfying mirror for the Wizardcycling mode of the card. This technically isn't a new mechanic, thanks to the cheeky and experimental Future Sight era. But it's certainly a deep cut that fits the flavor of the card and makes the card way more interesting in the early game, if you're having trouble drawing your Wizards or before you're ready to go all in on the burn plan.

It also allowed me to design a fun nod to Mesmir himself, by giving the creature version of his card an ETB that shuffles some spells back into your library. So you can Wizardcycle to find Mesmir, and then play him to let your opponent know... his Betrayal could be just around the corner! But that's a Card Showcase for another day.

5. Lather, Rinse, Repeat...

In all, the revised version of this card is a massive improvement in every aspect, and it's already been used to great success in a playtest with its new text! Most importantly, the Izzet Spellslinger archetype, which has underperformed so far compared to more creature-combat strategies, finally has a proper build-around card to pull players into those colors in a draft!

But of course, I'll keep testing it to make sure it's right in that sweet spot. The key to iteration, after all, is to keep iterating.

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Question about the cats with some level of psychic ability (like Old Deut, Cori and Tanto, etc.): cats are pretty private creatures, so do you think there's ever some conflict among the Jellicles when you have some of them who can read minds and such?

That's such a good question, anon, and I'd say it depends on the cat. Some genuinely don't mind if their friends or acquaintances with psychic abilities poke around in their minds or read their emotional profile, while others will get offended, or even angry that their privacy has been violated. Telepathy can be a useful tool, but it can also be abused. There can definitely be some friction, hostility or even discrimination towards cats with these abilities, depending on the character of the cat in question. Tugger hates having his thoughts read, as, ironically, does Mistoffelees. Demeter - in spite of once having had empathetic strands of magic in her that were siphoned out - gets very *very* paranoid if she thinks cats around her are poking around in her thoughts, because she had more than enough of that under Macavity. Alonzo finds it creepy, but will keep relatively cool about it, being particularly forgiving of Jemima and Tantomile (unless it happens frequently; then he gets also very paranoid for similar reasons).

But then, on the other paw, Asparagus doesn't particularly care so long as there's some warning first (one of his best friends mostly communicates telepathically afterall). Jellylorum, chronic worrier, finds a modicum of comfort in asking how a situation might turn out so she can worry less about it. Etcetera thinks it's a fun game, etc. It really does depend.

It is standard practice in cat company to ask consent before peeking in beforehand, but not all cats are civil or want anyone to know, and sometimes it happens subconsciously (and whether the cat in question takes accountability for it if it does is another thing entirely). Adult cats - particularly those who have been trained- usually have a better handle on controlling accidents like that, though if their magic is *very* strong, even they have difficulty managing it all the time.

With psychic and empathic kittens it's harder to control. Jemima will often blurt out the feelings of others when they start taking shape in the scramble (which was something that was very quickly trained out of her for her safety's sake, but it started coming back when they left Macavity), and Tantomile and Coricopat used to stare at cats and bluntly call colors at them (because they were able to see their auras).

When Deuteronomy was a kitten, Gus would get *very* cross with him if he poked around in his head and said what he was going to say before he said it. He would swipe at him, or cover his ears and sing loudly to get him to stop. Deuteronomy was genuinely confused by this, because he just figured all cats could read minds (Sera could, he was positive), and said it was fine because Gus could just do it back, nbd. But, shock surprise, Gus can't. Deuteronomy learned to stop doing it eventually, but while it was easier to bite his tongue, it wasn't so easy to control the expressions on his face.

When they were young adults, Deuteronomy would slip into the occasional emotional profile reading were he not paying attention or impatient with a situation, but he stopped doing that when, one day, Gus had absolutely had enough, looked him square in the eye and told him to: "Stop telling me how I feel."

That's what clicked it right way around for him. Since then, he has always asked permission first before venturing in (though he *may* have slightly bent that rule to help repair the Griz situation, but that's another story).

In regards to psychic ability, there's a bit of an unspoken, shared rule amongst the cats to keep the future of others very decidedly to themselves should they happen to see anything (similarly to how it is highly discouraged to inform reborn cats of their previous lives). And this is far trickier, because in the cases of future readings, some cats have it so strong, they actually *can't* control it; it may be activated randomly just by touching another cat or being nearby them.

But regardless, because it's believed a cat's path in life should very much be their own, it is critical to develop the ability to keep anything they see under wraps. What's to say their involvement wouldn't Butterfly Effect their futures? Is that always the right thing to do? Depends. It's really hard to say whether it's ever the right decision to tell cats what they see; Coricopat and Tantomile have spoken with Deuteronomy many a time for his advice in the matter, but while his advice is always comforting, he hasn't a real clue either. The twins collectively decided that, since their foresight is rarely clear anyway, mum's the word unless they are directly asked. Deuteronomy doesn't say anything much to that regard, either, because he doesn't want to burden another cat's mind with something potentially upsetting. Better it be for him to pack it away and push it down since he's so used to it, rather than putting it on someone else.

[riuterlabs]

File: 6.1.3 Codename: 5ERP3NTK155

NAMES: May Kob and Serena Gaer

SPECIES: Plasmoids

SUBSPECIES: Type 1

LIFEFORM: Saint’s kiss cobra (Malofidis Nagae)

ADITIONAL INFORMATION:

Date

11:18 of the 1º of Amthos of 171 of the 6º Aeon

&Date

Comm

HIIIIIIIIIII, CAM!

How’s the day going, dear?

Fine?

FINE?

If not… Don’t worry! That’s why I’m here!

I’ve seen that in these labs you have a database or something like it, I don’t know, I am a psychologist, not a computer scientist, and you have information of people!

WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THESE THINGS! I KNOW A LOT OF PEOPLE WHOM YOU COULD PUT IN HERE!

And, because of that…

I’ve decided to enter a couple of people and stories that you could use, hehe!

You don’t have to thank me now, you will when I get to put my plan into motion…

Well, it seems I spread my words more than my legs! Enjoy these two!

A deep and passionate kiss to the back of your throat and beyond:

Lena

PD: You know where I can enter Aura's throne room? She doesn't want to tell me!

And I don't know why! By Mom, it's not like I was going to break anything or something!

&Comm

Desc

Good day to everyone, my wonderful and stunning readers!

Sadly, Cam isn't available today, Ooooh.

But don't worry! You have me! Everybody's favorite Saint! The best Core bearer of all Aelfatum! Lena! YAAAY!

And because of that, as I know you like to know our habits and reproductive customs, a lot of the former, and even more of the latter, don't act coy now!, I’ve come to talk about some of my favorite sisters. The most interesting! And the most beautiful! So, without further ado, LET'S GO!

As I suppose you know, I am the saint patroness and symbolic leader of the type 1 plasmoids, even though that doesn't mean in our convent there aren't people of different types, of course. But what you wouldn't know, either, because Cam still hasn't figured it out, and so we will keep it as a surprise to her ;) is that, as Transmuted are based on their materials, us Plasmoids take some aspects of certain lifeforms and incorporate them harmoniously to our humanoid form. A lot of people will consider it a way to defile and profanate the human form. Bah! We do it as a way to celebrate biodiversity and the beauty of life as a whole. And a way to thank Mom!

These two, May and Serena, are two very good examples of this tendency. As I hope you can notice, they are not very original, because they are based on one of the animals that are most associated with out species, ssssnakes! Specifically, a variety known as Saint's Kiss Cobra, a species famous due to its malleabilizer venom. Well! It seems Serena was bit by one and got transformed into the beauty you see now, look at that tail! And that hot bod! I'm so proud of her. But humans didn't like her one bit, tasteless uncultured lot! So they hated and rejected her as if she was a monster. So, when I saw her through the window, slithering and bawling her eyes out in her own house, I could only let myself in and recruit her.

It turns out she filled her house with the snakes that bit her, she said they were the only ones who didn't hate her, poor girl, so perfect and so alone…

So I made her and offer: She would come with me to the convent if she worked as a recruiter in one of our locales in our border with Libertas, and in exchange, she would have a family and people to be around and who loved her however she looked like.

She agreed!

A couple of weeks later, she got installed in The Five Doors, in the room of snakes, where she was happy, although a bit lonely. The rooms of balloons and butterflies were full, but nobody wanted to enter the snakes' one!

Until one day, a colorful group of five friends, at that moment three girls and a charming couple of two boys, passed through the door invited by a friend of a friend of a friend of a sister of the convent.

Each one of them entered one of the rooms, and for the first time in months, Serena had new company!

As you can see, they got along very well from the start! So she ended up infecting and transforming May into her current and wonderful form.

There's not much left to say of these two! They loved each other at first glance. A LOT. And May has the shape she always wanted, a charming hissssssing accent, and both found a wonderful person with which to share their lives.

Awww, Ain’t love beautiful?

&Desc

ImgInfo

Oh, I have to describe the image.

Well.

There's little left to say.

You see the green and purple one? That's Serena.

You see the one with a ridiculous hairstyle that ends up being orange and black? That's May.

In the first image, we see how Serena is wrapping around May, nearly biting her, only to receive a shot saying "IF YOU EAT ME, I WILL MOAN". Rude!

In the second one, we see Serena massaging and transforming May little by little, using old massaging techniques we Sisters have been perfecting for millenia, and also some new ones invented by her that use, EXACTLY!, snakes. They look to be having a very good time, uh?

And finally, the previously cowardly May has picked up the snake that bit her and is showing who's in charge, just before she shows her who loves her in the most appropriate way.

And there's not much more, just two beauties loving each other a lot.

&ImgInfo

The embodiment of your carnal desires says goodbye!

A kiss to everyone!

Saint Lena of Earth and her Elastic Face.

RiuterLabs?

Psst, Cam, do I have to put this here? Archivo 6.1.3 Nombre en clave: 53RP3NTK155

NOMBRES: May Kob y Serena Gaer

ESPECIE: Plasmoides

SUBESPECIE: Tipo 1

FORMA DE VIDA: Cobra Beso de Santa (Malofidis Nagae)

INFORMACIÓN ADICIONAL:

~Date~

11:18 del 1º de Amthos del 171 del 6º Eón

~&Date~

~Comm~

¡HOLAAAAA, CAAAAM!

¿Qué tal el día, cariño?

¿Bien?

¿BIEN?

Si no… ¡No te preocupes! ¡Para eso estoy yo!

He visto que en los laboratorios estos tuyos tenéis una base de datos o algo parecido, no sé, soy psicóloga, no informática, ¡Y que guardáis información de gente!

¿POR QUÉ NO ME DICES ESTAS COSAS? YO CONOZCO A MUCHA GENTE QUE METER AQUÍ.

Así que, por esoooo…

¡He decidido meter un par de personas e historias que te podrían venir bien, jeje!

No hace falta que me des las gracias, ya lo harás cuando haya podido poner a funcionar mi plan…

En fin, ¡Parece que estiro mis palabras mejor que mis piernas! Disfruta de estas dos.

Un profundo y apasionado beso hasta el fondo de la garganta y más:

Lena

PD: ¿Sabes por dónde se entra a la sala del trono de Aura? Es que ella no me lo quiere decir.

¡Y no sé por qué! ¡Por Mamá, ni que fuera a romper algo!

~&Comm~

~Desc~

¡Muy buenas a todos, maravillosos y despampanantes lectores!

Lastimosamente hoy Cam no está disponible, oooooooh.

¡Pero no os preocupéis! ¡Me tenéis a mí! ¡A la Santa favorita de todos! ¡La mejor portadora de núcleo de todo Aelfatum! ¡Lena! BIEEEN.

Y por eso, como sé que os gusta saber de nuestras costumbres y hábitos reproductivos, bastante de lo primero, pero todavía más de lo segundo, no os hagáis los recatados ahora, vengo a hablaros de algunas de mis hermanas favoritas. Las más interesantes. ¡Y las más hermosas! Así que, sin más dilación, ¡ALLÁ VAMOS!

Como supongo que sabréis, soy la santa patrona y líder simbólica de las plasmoides tipo 1, aunque eso no implica que en el convento no tengamos a gente de más tipos, claro está. Pero lo que tampoco sabréis, porque es algo que Cam todavía no ha descubierto, y que vamos a mantener como una sorpresa para ella ;) es que, al igual que los transmutados están basados en sus materiales, los plasmoides tomamos aspectos de ciertas formas de vida y los acoplamos armoniosamente a nuestra forma humanoide. Muchos lo considerarán una forma de desvirtuar y profanar la forma humana, ¡Bah! Pero nosotros lo hacemos como una forma de celebrar la biodiversidad y la belleza de la vida en su conjunto ¡Y una forma de agradecer a Mamá!

Pues estas dos, May y Serena, son muy buenos ejemplos de esta tendencia. Como espero que podáis apreciar, no son muy originales, porque precisamente se basan en uno de los animales más asociados con nuestra especie, ¡Lassss Sssserpientesss! Específicamente una variedad llamada Cobra Beso de Santa, una especie famosa por su veneno maleabilizador. ¡Bueno! Resulta que a Serena le picó una y la transformó en la hermosura que veis ahora, ¡Mirad esa cola! ¡Y ese cuerpazo! Ay, qué orgullosa estoy de ella.

Pero a los humanos no les gustaba nada, ¡Incultos sin gusto! Por lo que la odiaban y rechazaban como si fuera un monstruo. Así que, cuando la vi por la ventana, reptando y llorando a moco tendido en su propia casa, no pude hacer otra cosa que meterme y reclutarla.

Resulta que había llenado su casa de las serpientes que la habían picado, decía que eran las únicas que no la odiaban, pobrecita, tan perfecta y tan sola…

Así que le hice una oferta, ella vendría conmigo al convento si nos hacía de reclutadora en uno de nuestros locales en la frontera con Libertas, a cambio tendría una familia y mucha gente con la que pasar el rato y que realmente la quería tal y como era.

¡Aceptó!

Un par de semanas después se instaló en Las Cinco Puertas, en la sala de las serpientes, donde era feliz, aunque estaba un poco sola. Las salas de los Globos y las Mariposas estaban llenas, ¡Pero nadie quería entrar en la de las serpientes!

Hasta que un día, un pintoresco grupo de cinco amigas, en ese momento tres amigas y una encantadora parejita de dos chicos, entraron por la puerta invitadas por una amiga de una amiga de una amiga de una amiga de una hermana del convento.

Cada una de ellas entró por una puerta, y, por primera vez en meses, Serena tuvo compañía nueva.

Como podéis ver, ¡Se llevaron muy bien desde el principio! Por lo que acabó contagiando y transformando a May en su actual y espectacular forma.

¡Y poco más que decir de estas dos! Se quisieron a primera vista. MUCHO. Y ahora May tiene la forma que siempre había querido, un acento sssissseante encantador y ambas encontraron a una maravillosa persona con la que compartir sus vidas.

Ayyyyy, ¡Qué bonito es el amor!

~&Desc~

~ImgInfo~

Ah, que hay que describir un poco la imagen.

Bueno.

Poco hay que añadir.

¿Veis a la verde y morada? Esa es Serena.

¿Veis a la del peinado ridículo que acaba siendo negra y naranja? Esa es May.

En la primera imagen vemos como Serena está enrollándose, je je, con May, justo a punto de morderla solo para recibir un grito de &SI ME COMES GIMO&, ¡Maleducada!

En la segunda simplemente tenemos a Serena masajeando y transformando poco a poco a May, usando las viejas técnicas de masaje que las Hermanas llevamos perfeccionando durante milenios, además de unas nuevas inventadas por ella que involucran el uso de, ¡EXACTO!, Serpientes. Parece que alguien se lo está pasando muy bien, ¿Eh?

Y finalmente, la anteriormente acobardada May, ha cogido a la serpiente que la picó y le está demostrando quién manda, justo antes de demostrarle quién la quiere de la forma más apropiada.

Y poco más, dos hermosuras queriéndose mucho.

~&ImgInfo~

¡Se despide vuestra encarnación de los deseos carnales de confianza!

¡Un beso a todos!

Santa Lena de las Tierras y su Elástica Faz

¿RiuterLabs?

Psst, Cam ¿Pongo esto o no?

[agirlwhoisaphantom]

Shades of Winter - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You finally get to meet James Bucky Barnes. You two are an instant click but would this eventually lead to something good or something bad?

Word Count: 3140

Warnings: The reader talks about past memories such as: kidnapping, torture, starvation, violence. A bit of angst. Also If you like the Hobbit movies, I'm so sorry (yes this is tw) Also if there is anything else let me know.

Author’s Note: A little bit more in-depth on who y/n is in my Bucky fics. Other than that this has been in my archives for a hot minute so.

reblogs/feedback/likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! But please, DO NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics!

It has been a couple of years since you returned to the Avengers Quarters. You had been on the run before the blipped happened. But you have finally told yourself that enough is enough. You always knew that the Avengers would be your family, so you decided to go back to them.

The first person you were excited to see after a while was Sam. So, you decided to go to his hometown and give him a visit.

When you arrived, you notice that there was a party. You felt a little bit left out. But you pushed those feelings aside since Sam didn’t know that you were coming along as well.

Once you laid your eyes on Sam, you knew that you needed to sneak up on him and scare him.

There was loud music playing in the background, so you took that as an advantage. You quietly sneak up to Sam, getting on your toes as you try to cover his eyes.

Sam turns around, putting up his guard. When he notices that you tried to sneak up on him, you could see the relief on his face. He didn’t think twice but to hug you. “Where have you been? You go incognito mode and don’t visit me. I’ve been worried about you.”

You hug him back, “I just needed a break from the world and traveled a bit.” You chuckled a little bit. “But I’m back and better than ever.”

He starts to ramble as you two catch each other up on everything that has happened the past couple of years. You two start to walk up to the docks. You notice how beautiful it was with the sun setting how the sun reflected on the water. You were amazed.

“Hey, I’ll be back. Do you want anything to eat?” Sam pointed to the table that had nothing but plates of food in it. Your small smiled formed on your face as you shook your head.

Walking around, you notice so many little kids running around and having fun. It was such a positive place to be. You could feel the aura around you just filled with joy.

Without noticing where you were walking, you bump into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t-“ you look back at him. The first thing that you noticed was his ocean blue eyes. You could stare at those eyes for hours.

Breaking the eye contact, you took a few steps back so that you wouldn’t be close to him anymore. “I’m Bucky.” He places his hands in the pockets of his black jean jacket. There was a smirk on his face.

“uh, y/n” you had a confused smile on your face.

“y/n,” Bucky says in a deep flirty tone of voice, he looks around, and that smirk became a smile. “I’ll see you around y/n,” he winked as he walked away.

Why did your name sound so much better when he said it. Something about him made you curious. You were on the fence if whether or not you wanted to know more about him or just let him be a mystery. But either way, you knew the moment you bumped into him, Bucky was going to become a trouble.

During the blip, when you helped, there would be moments that Steve would tell stories of Bucky when they were younger. In those stories, Steve would describe him as the most caring friend and always attached to a book such as The Hobbit.

Throughout the day, you would occasionally interact with Bucky. He would ask you random questions such as what your favorite color was? What flowers did you like? He wanted to get to know you.

“So, you are telling me that I should watch the movies and how there are three of them.” Bucky takes a sip of his drink.

You chuckled a little bit “yes, I like the book versions better. But it’s so nice seeing them come to life.”

“I’ll make a note of that, Doll.”

Going back home, you never expected to talk to Bucky again. You didn't have any of his contact information either way, and he didn't have yours.

A couple of days pass by when you receive a message from an unknown number.

10:38 AM "hey there, are you busy this afternoon?"

You decided to ignore the message; it might have been sent to someone else instead of you.

10:45 AM "shit, sorry, It's Bucky."

The moment that you read that, it was Bucky that sent you that message. You wondered how he got your number. Could it have been Steve? Sam? Nat? That gave him your number.

These thoughts were running through your head and were interrupted by that number calling you.

"So, are you busy this afternoon?"

"No, Hi, how are you? How is life? Just going right to asking me what I'm doing this afternoon, what a great start James." You said in an annoying tone of voice.

"Hi, Doll. How are you? There is that better," he said in a mocking voice. Even though you couldn't see him, you could tell that he was rolling his eyes.

You wanted to hang up, but a part of you didn't want to do it. "So much better, thank you." You said sarcastically. "I'm doing nothing later. I'm probably just going to go home and make some dinner."

"You can always say no. But I just bought the three Hobbit movies, and I wondered if you wanted to watch them with me? And Tony is throwing a party tomorrow, and I thought if you wanted to go."

This took you by surprise, it hasn't been an entire week of knowing him, and he is already asking you over to his apartment. "Yeah, that would be fun," you said once again sarcastically. You didn't mean to sound it like that.

When you agreed that you would watch the series with him and to the party, a part of you knew that you had done something you might regret in the long run, but the other part you wanted to see where this would take you, and you wanted to explore it. Something about him made you curious, and you wanted to know why. Why, out of all the people that you had met, he is the one that sparks curiosity in you.

Once again, these thoughts are interrupted by him "I didn't hear a no, so I'm assuming you said yes. I'll send you my address. Meet me here in two hours." He hangs up.

Two hours pass by, and you were unsure what to bring, so you brought a couple of snacks. Walking into Bucky's apartment, there weren't many decorations. It seemed like he had just moved in. There wasn't much besides a small sofa and a tv. It was a very dark place with little to no light coming through.

Bucky notices that you were looking around "sorry if I had more time, I would have cleaned a bit better."

Your eyes widen as you were confused. You look around once again. His place was way cleaner than what your apartment looked like. "you consider this dirty. You should see mine" Bucky goes near the light switch and turns on the lights of the kitchen.

The instant he turned on the lights, that's when you notice what he was wearing. He was wearing a white muscle shirt with a pair of gym shorts, and his hair was messy, and you were able to tell that he had a couple of curls.

If heart eyes were a thing, you would have had them at this exact moment. Bucky was way more handsome than he was when you first met him. As the thoughts continued through your head, you knew that you needed to stop them before you ended up drooling over him.

He points to his bedroom. "I'm going to go change. I have to hide this." He was referring to his left arm. He wasn't sure how you would react to it, and he thought that he should have worn something to cover it before you decided to show up.

You grab the wrist of his metal arm. "It's okay. I don't mind. Besides that, I think it makes you more attractive" the moment that the word attractive escaped your mouth, you could feel your cheeks turn red and your body heat rise. Why did you say that? Especially towards him. Your mind was full of regrets, but at the same time, you didn't care because he was truly attractive.

Bucky covers his mouth with his right hand, trying to cover his laugh. You playfully hit his arm "this isn't funny, Bucky. I'm so close to turning around and making you watch the Hobbit alone." You crossed your arms together. You were getting annoyed with him. All you wanted to do was come over and watch movies with him.

"Fine, I'll stop. But it doesn't mean that I'm not going to hold this against you." Bucky chuckled.

Bucky goes to his bedroom, brings a blanket, and tries to ensure that his place can be as cosey as possible, even though it was dark.

Halfway through the third movie, you could see that he was extremely disappointed. If he could rate the movie, you would 100% be sure he would give it a -1000 rate. "Why the fuck did Peter tell me that these were great. They are complete garbage" Bucky raises his voice. Deep down, he did enjoy the movies. He just wanted to see a reaction out of you. But you were calm since this was your 5th time watching these films.

You couldn't help but laugh at how disappointed Bucky was. He turns to face you and notices the face of amusement you had on "this isn't a joke, Doll. I thought they would be great." He rolls his eyes.

When the movie ended, he put on the sports channel and started to watch it. As much as you loved watching sports, you slowly went to sleep. You felt comfortable around him. It had only been a couple of days that you had met him, so you found it odd.

You fell asleep on his right shoulder. When Bucky felt that you placed your head on his shoulder, a small smile formed on his face, he was unsure why he felt comfortable with you. But he knows that you were going to be one heck of trouble from now on.

Bucky looks at you and notices that you were fast asleep. He can't help but to carry you in his arms and take you to his bed. He made sure to tuck you in.

After he tucked you in, he went back to the living room and continued to watch his sports.

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

Around midnight, you woke up. Not because you had a nightmare, but because you felt like you were in an unknown location. As soon as you woke up, you panicked and started to look around. You immediately went into fight or flight mode in case If you were in danger. Walking outside of the bedroom, you notice Bucky was sleeping on the floor.

Seeing him on the floor, you drastically put your guard down. You sighed in relief that you were with him and no one else. You go into the kitchen to grab a mug to make yourself tea. When you prepared your tea, you went back to Bucky's bedroom and opened the window outside to let some fresh air in. You wrapped yourself with the blanket Bucky gave you, and you held your knees up to your chest as you drank from the mug.

This was the first time you had ever woken up without having a nightmare. You wondered why was it because of Bucky? As your thoughts were running, you could hear someone come into the room. You turn around and notice it was Bucky. "Someone is up early." He chuckled.

A smile formed on your face. "It looks like you are up early too" you rolled your eyes.

There was silence between you and him. You hated being silent, but with him, you didn't mind.

"Is everything alright?" Bucky whispered. You turn your head towards him, and you nodded. "you can tell me anything, you know." He places his hand on your shoulder.

You lift your eyebrows, unsure if he was messing around with you. "I just met you, like yesterday. Why would I-"

"Five days ago, to be exacted." He said in a snarky tone of voice as he interrupted you.

"Fine, you want to know.” You looked away from him because you knew you would start being vulnerable, and you didn't want to see Bucky's reaction or what face he was making. “For the longest time, I've had nightmares back-to-back. But oddly enough, tonight I didn't have any."

"if you don't mind me asking," Bucky takes a big gulp before saying anything. He knew that you were a bit uncomfortable, and he didn't want to push you. "Why do you have nightmares?" "I used to have them constantly because of who I was. It took me time to understand that the winter soldier wasn't me, and jeez, till this day, there would be moments where I doubt myself, but I'm getting better."

Hearing him tell you a little bit of himself made you feel more at ease. You take a big breath before you start telling him why you would have these nightmares. "At a very young age, both of my parents were killed. My brother died as well, trying to protect us. One of the Hydra agents forcefully made me go to one of their camps. I fought for the first couple of months, trying to get out. But eventually, I gave up. I thought they provided me a roof to stay under, and even though they barely fed me, I was somewhat grateful. I could have it worse. They taught me how to fight, how to hold a gun, etc. When I was a teen, I was tortured, starved more than before, and experimented on."

He grabs your hand and tries his best to comfort you. He knew that this was a lot for you to tell him. "They wanted to see if they could make me into a mutant but with every little alternation of genetics. Nothing worked. Even if it did, I didn't want them to know about it. At that point, I just was numb; I didn't want to live anymore. So I let things happen to me. Hoping one day my body just gave up. Till this day, some of those things that they did I don't remember, nor I want to." You take a small pause as you heard yourself. You felt so comfortable telling him about your past.

Your voice started to crack as you thought more about your past. You tried your best not to cry. "After I escaped, I moved to Washington, Nat found me there, and I started to work at SHIELD. Nat was the only person that knew me and helped me get better."

Bucky was unsure how to react to what you had just told him. He had mixed emotions. He didn't know why he felt anger, sadness, grief, and disappointing feelings towards you. But he knew that it took you a lot of courage to tell him all of these things. He sits on the floor next to you and hugs you. The second that he hugged you, you couldn't help but cry. He was the second person to know your story. "I'm sorry, Bucky. I shouldn't have told you. You've been through much worse, and I wish you didn't-"

"Doll, don't apologize. None of this was your fault. I'm glad that you told me. We both didn't deserve anything of that." he held you for a couple of more minutes and let you cry. He wanted to tell you more, that he was glad that you left when you had the chance. That he hated that you were in that position, he wanted to comfort you. He couldn't find the words. So all he did was hold you.

After a couple of minutes, you were grateful that he listened to every word you said. But you were mentally exhausted, and you just wanted to go to bed. You got up and placed the cup on the nightstand, and started to get ready to leave. When Bucky grabs your arm, "stay the night, it's already late enough to walk around." His voice was small and a bit shaky. "You can stay in my bed, and I can sleep on the floor. Please stay."

You agreed to stay the night with him, and he goes to his closet and grabs you some clothes to sleep comfortably. They fit all baggy on you, but you didn't care. You didn't want to sleep uncomfortably. The moment you got out of the bathroom, Bucky chuckled as he looked how big his clothes looked on you. You ended up rolling your eyes.

Bucky laid on the floor next to his bed. As you were closing your eyes, you felt some guilt, so you look to where Bucky was lying. "Buck, come up here." You whispered.

"Nah, I'm comfortable sleeping on the floor." He turns around, facing away from you.

You grab a pillow and throw it to him "well, I'm not. So get your ass up here before I drag you."

"I would like to see you try, Doll." He chuckled. Once again, you threw another pillow at him, accidentally hitting his head. "Fine, I'm going." He grunted.

Lucky enough Bucky had a queen bed. So you had enough room for yourself and him. "One thing, don't invade my bubble, and we won't end up fighting. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go to sleep."

Within minutes you two were in a deep sleep.

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

When you two finally arrived at Tony’s Party. Bucky couldn’t help but be curious about what was happening between the two of you.

He couldn’t help it anymore. He decided to ask you, “So, what are we?”

“What do you mean what are we, Bucky?” there was a confused smile on your face.

“yeah, like are we friends, or I don’t know?” he nervously laughed, unsure if he should be asking this.

You laughed a little “Friends is a bit too much. I don’t think we are there yet.” You teased him. You gently punched his arm.

“Are we acquaintances?”

“I like that. We are for sure acquaintances.” You chuckled.

“you think it’s funny, but I can live with that, Doll.” He shrugs his shoulders.

And just like that, two strangers who never planned on caring for one another became the most inseparable pair.

[bernkastel11]

𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒇 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑬𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝑾𝒂𝒔 𝑳𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

A long time ago

There were Twin Princesses who were born into the Solareth Clan,the Imperial Family of the Aurous Empire

They're twins but everything about them were so different

They were fraternal twins

Their name was Arabella and Linarisa

They were born in everyone's blessings

But since the beginning, only one was blessed

This is the story of the Unblessed Princess,one of the twins,who were unfortunate at the start

My sister,Arabella Rose Solareth,were the Sunshine of the Empire

She has warm golden hair, a common trait of the Aurous Empire's people

She was adored greatly by everyone because she was blessed with loveliness and beauty

She was the happiest little girl

My name is Linarisa Luna Solareth, who were the more unfortunate sister. I usually went by Linaris

As a child, I was already shunned by society

I was born with deep ocean colored hair unlike my sister. Many said I was an illegitimate child and I was seen as one

My parents never really cared about me and neglected me, they regarded me as a useless child

The reason I had deep ocean colored hair is because of the magic I possessed. The Court Mage explained that,she felt the aura coming from me

I was indeed a legitimate child

My misfortune continued when we started adulthood

On Foundation Day, Arabella show everyone that she has the Infamous Gifted Power of the Solareth Clan, Eternal Light of Heaven.

Eternal Light of Heaven was the power the Golden Goddess Aurous bestowed upon the Solareth Clan, the First Emperor of Aurous Empire had it and it has been passing on to the descendants of the Family.

What makes it special is that it is rare and only a few descendants were born with it

Arabella was gifted with that special power

I wasn't pleased much with the discovery, again my sister got blessed with a great gift

But that doesn't mean I do not have one

I was gifted with Shadow of Darkness

It was the reason why I had deep ocean colored hair

No one cared about it so I kept it a secret

The magic is very lethal if not use carefully. Why?

Because the shadow can engulf anything and destroy it

Then my life became more horrible to me

The man I loved, Jilian Felis Septir, who was a Duke, got engaged to Arabella

Yes she and I both loved him

I continued to see Arabella getting more affection from our mother

While I was left behind

I was also her daughter so why?

Next part —>

[heyitsmerose]

Russian Roulette | Mafia!Seonghwa

Pairing: Mafia!Seonghwa x Assassin/Sniper!Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia!

Word Count: 11.2k

Summary: A part of the infamous Park gang, your life is never short of crazy. You've never met the man himself, but tonight something is different. He accompanies the rest of the gang to one of your usual Friday night outs. It all goes south however, as you discover the night doesn't turn out as it's supposed to, a dangerous obstacle in your way. You are forced to pick between the lives of your boss, your best friends and young boy in a menacing game of Russian Roulette.

Warnings/Disclaimer: I am aware the Mafia life is nothing like I am portraying it. It is definitely not full of attractive, young, single people and many nasty/dirty things happen behind the scenes. Furthermore this is quite a serious topic as some people lose their lives over this. I will not be portraying the reality of mafia gangs, instead just an idealised version (thus remember, none of this is real). That being said, a little imagination and creativity never hurt anyone did it? Also this is my second SeonghwaxMafia fic oops.

Blood + Wounds

Mafia + Gangs

Guns + Weapons

Underage Drinking + Assault

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Youtube Playlist

1:55  ───|────── 4:45

|◁              II             ▷| *I've spent a few weeks on this, I'm sorry if there are spelling errors, I've read the entire thing maybe 5-6 times.

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Friday. 6 pm. After-work hours. What were you doing? What every other normal friend group would do; go to the nearby bar to relax. Except you weren't normal. You and 14 or so others in the bar at the moment, had a dirty secret. You were a part of a gang, a mafia gang to be exact. In all honesty, unlike the movies or stories that had portrayed them, the public rarely knew about mafia gangs, let alone knew if they existed. You could roam around freely without the need to worry about someone recognizing you. No one would know that such a pretty face hid such a dark secret.

Besides, this was your lifestyle now. You knew the gang was political and focused on some power struggle but you couldn't care less. Frankly, the only reason you joined the gang was that you were broke. You were introduced to it after you stumbled into this exact bar at the age of 16, wanting to become a bartender as you knew it paid well. You tried applying for the job but it turned out you were underage and couldn't work at the bar yet. While you were slapped by reality, however, someone was watching your every move. She was young too, maybe 15 or 16 and she had noticed you the moment you entered the bar/club. Not too many new people came along so she was intrigued. Immediately when she sensed your aura and your personality, she knew you'd fit in well with the gang.

She noticed how confidently you carried yourself and noticed your dark fashion choice. She stared as you made your way to the counter, swaying your hips as you got the attention of the bartender. The way, you leaned against the counter cooly, your lips parted slightly as you waited for a response. As she kept looking at you you looked back, feeling someone glare holes into the back of your skull. You noticed a young girl, hair a burgundy color with full black clothes. She smiled at you softly and you only raised your eyebrows before rolling your eyes and averting eye contact. What a badass personality you had. Perfect.

Despite really wanting a friend in the gang, and wanting to recommend you to the boss, she couldn't. Alas, she was only a young hacker and her position was not too significant. What she didn't expect was for you to come up to the group yourself, and introduce yourself. You got your response from the manager, and it was not one you were too happy with, you scoffed and turned on your heel, looking for a way to better your situation and rotten mood. She picked up her drink and gulped it down after you looked away. She looked back at you and you were gone. Her eyes widened as she sighed. She knew you'd get along but she was never going to see you again. The last thing she expected was to hear a voice from near the central table.

"Listen up people. Is this some sort of badass, thug gig? Are yall hiring? Can I be a part of this?" You announced. She spat out her drink and choked, hearing your words. Not only were you an outsider intruding on their business, but you had also shamed the gang in front of the underboss, one of the people present there.

Being somewhat new herself, She got nervous thinking of the consequences you'd face for messing with the mafia world. She heard a deep chuckle from behind her, somewhere and chills ran down her spine.

"Actually, we do have an opening" One of the taller males whispered in a low voice. At this point, no one could tell if he was being serious or whether he just wanted to chop your head off. She gripped her drink harder and stared at both of you. She noticed it was none other than the boss's right-hand man and most trusted member, the underboss, San. Should anything happen to the boss, the gang would be given to San.

You twirled a piece of your hair in between your fingers as you smiled back. You weren't intimidated. Besides, he looked no more than around 5 years older than you. You stepped closer, staring into his sparkling, yet cold brown eyes. You noticed how his hand gravitated dangerously close to your personal space and you were slightly more alert. Through the corner of your eye, you noticed how his hand was moving closer to your waist but none of you broke eye contact. Before his hand made contact with your waist, you grabbed his wrist. The hand that was twirling the piece of hair swiftly snapped down, grabbing his wrist tightly. His eyes widened and he tried pulling away gently while you kept the firm grip, not breaking eye contact. The others around you gasped but you kept glaring at him while he had an amused smirk on his face.

"What kind of opening?" You gritted out. Sure, you were desperate, but you weren't going to let people throw you around and use you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to assert dominance but he just looked at you and tilted his head. A smile broke out on his face, a genuine one this time. You loosened your grip, letting go of him, still a little cautious as he simply massaged his wrist, still maintaining a smile on his face.

"I think you'll like it more than you think"

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Although you had originally joined because you needed money. You found that this lifestyle had fit you more than you thought. You enjoyed the thrill and you couldn't imagine yourself working anywhere else. It had been around 5 years since you joined and you were now 21. Meanwhile, the burgundy-haired girl, Ashe, became your best friend and you even lived together. The bond you shared was to die for, you loved each other to bits but also were each other's biggest supporters. You maintained your bitchy persona and starting rubbing off on Ashe too. Soon, she also developed a colder more confident aura. You were with her through thick and thin. Your position now was a spy and secondary shooter. Despite shooting not being your main pursuit, out of the gang, you were one of the most skilled in using them. Some even compared you to the boss, but you shrugged them off. San was for sure the best shooter out of the entire gang though.

Surprisingly, San, the underboss, who you found was 22 at the time was now 27. You had developed a close bond. Your relationship consisted of a lot of teasing and inside jokes as well as a lot of protectiveness from San. Although your relation started rough, it slowly transitioned from mean comments to teasing names and now playful banter. You had a sibling relationship and he was like the brother you never had. You both were the best with guns in your entire gang so you bonded quite a lot as you spent a lot of time training and practicing together. Not to mention when you'd both geek out over specific new models that were brought into the weaponry.

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Back to the present, you were at the usual bar. After joining the gang, you quickly realized that this was the go-to spot for after-work hours. It wasn't mandatory to come here, but it was kind of a tradition every Friday to come and just let loose for a bit. Most of the gang was here and it was usually the same people every time. Today though, something was different. The boss had come in. To outsiders it would seem casual, as if a normal friend group was getting wasted, to everyone in the gang though, you knew that was far from the truth.

The boss had never come with you guys, and although it was after working hours, you all couldn't help but be on your best behavior. He had often heard that his gang members would meet up after work on a friendly basis and he wanted to know what this was about. He heard San talking about it during work once and was intrigued ever since. Thus, here you were... here he was... along with the 14 or so others who usually came to the bar.

To be completely honest, coming to the bar was your favorite part of your job, scratch that, your entire week. You looked forward to it all week and when it finally came you let loose. It was a known fact that you and San were the crazy daredevils of the group. You both had absolutely no fear or shame in the things you did. Today though, you both had tried to be on your best behavior. Despite being his right-hand man, San was still a little intimidated by Seonghwa and you often used to playfully gossip about him, so you both made sure to behave today, or at least tried...

Seonghwa stuck out like a sore thumb. It was clear no one was expecting him to come, and to be honest, nobody wanted him to come either. He was leaning against a counter, eyes scanning the crowd carefully while sipping a rather small glass of whiskey. Typical Seonghwa, being cautious and defensive even off the job. You hadn't had too many personal encounters with Seonghwa, you had just seen him around a bunch.

Meanwhile, although you and San had agreed to tone it down a bit, you couldn't help it. Drunk was an understatement. You rushed over to the front as soon as the adrenaline hit you and had roughly shoved some people off the raised platform of the dance floor. You were shouting random lyrics into the crowd and hyping everyone up while pulling a few random strangers onto the stage. After swaying your hips a bunch and screaming song lyrics into strangers' faces, you realized this still wasn't enough. You staggered to the DJ and snatched one of the many mics and went back to the stage.

Acquired with a new toy to distract you, you began to get everyone's attention.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen" You slurred into the mic. By now, most of the gang members had gotten used to your crazy shenanigans and didn't mind. Although many were initially afraid of San, you had defiantly changed him for the better. He finally found someone to match his energy and charisma and he let loose a little, finally free to show his true self. Everyone had gotten used to it at this point, but this was different, the boss was here.

Most of them immediately sobered up hearing your booming voice from the gigantic sound boxes. Ashe was hooking up with some random girl somewhere else, but as soon as she recognized it was you, she immediately began to look for you.

"How's everyone doing tonight? Are we having funn?" By now, you had gotten the attention of everyone in the bar, including Seonghwa. He looked at you with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, he recognized you. You were the little minx that caught his eye the day you joined the gang, you barely spoke to him, but he could sense the confident aura radiating from you.

The mic was roughly snatched from you, by one of the guys, you assumed was the manager, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes, walking towards the dance floor. He wasn't going to stop you, no one was. Since you had gotten everyone's attention, everyone's eyes were on you. You hopped over to the center of the dance floor, hair bouncing as you fully let go. You swayed your hips and ran your fingers through your hair.

You heard a few whistles and hollers around you and a bunch of hands touching your waist. At this point, you were too drunk to even react properly and just continued dancing, enjoying the attention. You hyped everyone up and began jumping to the beat, hair bouncing over your shoulders as you shook your head from side to side at the beat.

By now, you had caught Seonghwa's attention too, he was intrigued by your carefree persona outside work and admired your ability to separate your two lives. Meanwhile, Ashe had rushed to your side, trying to pull you away from everyone. Despite being drunk, her motherly instincts kicked in and she felt the need to protect you.

"Y/n, what are you doing? The boss is watching!" She practically yelled. You just gave her a disapproving look and pulled her into the middle of the circle.

"Asheeee, just let loose for one night, why are you always so uptight?" You slurred to her, caressing her waist. She gulped and looked back at your eyes. You raised your eyebrows and smirked, if only you knew the effect you had on her. As if on cue, the DJ played the worst song possible, a slow, sensual one.

You whispered the lyrics into her ear as you wrapped your arms around her neck. You caressed the back of her neck with your fingers and tugged on the smaller strands of hair in the back. You slowly started moving your waist to the rhythm as she tried steadying you, you were drunk, this was not okay. You pulled your hands away from her neck and caressed her cheeks in both of your hands, inching closer. You kept whispering the lyrics and she felt your warm breath on her lips. She was slowly gaining confidence and eventually grabbed your waist in her hands. You looked down at her hands and smirked. You brought one of the hands caressing her cheek to softly trace her bottom lip. You stared at her lips, inching closer and closer, warm breaths mixing.

All of a sudden you turned around, your back facing her, as she steadied you again. You began moving again, bending forwards purposely to rub against her. You swayed your waist and pushed backward. She knew what you were doing and slowly inched her hands downwards towards your ass. Although you were best friends, there was no doubt that there was some sexual tension between the two of you.

She began tracing patterns on your hips and butt as one hand remained on your waist. She felt around your waist, trailing patterns around your skimpy black dress until she felt a harder material near your chest and stomach. She blushed immediately not meaning to touch you there and placed her hand back on your waist. You chuckled as you ground against her harder, now definitely trying to start something. She lightly moaned as she gripped your hips, trying to pull you back up, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back for much longer like this.

"Goodness me, what have I walked upon here?"

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Way to ruin the moment Choi San...

Ashe froze upon hearing his voice. She immediately pulled her hands away from you and stepped back, a dark red blush now coating her features. Meanwhile, you were too drunk to think straight and simply frowned at the lack of contact, you were just about to get laid.

The second the others saw Ashe step away from you, random strangers started touching you again. One of them grabbed your waist, as another gripped your chin. You closed your eyes and continued moving to the beat and San sighed.

"I think that's enough, step aside before I make you" San huffed, a hint of frustration and anger at the end. Everyone obliged immediately upon sensing his dominating aura and you were once again alone. You sighed, eyebrows furrowing as you looked around, most of the people around you had moved away. You stumbled slightly and tried stabilizing yourself, only to fail miserably and almost fall over.

San rushed over and held you by your shoulders to steady you.

"Why hello there, handsome man" You sloppily winked at San and he rolled his eyes.

"Y/n what on earth are you doing? You made quite the scene just then..."

"I was having fun... you're such a killjoy, Saniee." You slurred, sticking your pointer finger into his chest. He simply pushed your finger away, trying to be strict with you.

"Yeah, your definition of fun being screaming lyrics into the mic nearly deafening everyone, throwing yourself at random people, grinding on Ashe and almost kissing her, and practically falling on the floor and eating shit" He was frustrated, but he couldn't help but feel protective over you. Despite scolding you, he still had an arm around your waist, looking deeply into your eyes, hand on your back, holding you up so you didn't fall. It was subtle things like this that showed that he deeply cared and under his strictness, he was just a big softie.

"I- I what?" You sighed trying to step away, now that he was recalling the events it started setting in.

"Yeah, how about we sober up, hmm?" He asked and you nodded as he dragged you back to the counter. You looked back one last time, only to see Ashe looking at you with heartbroken eyes. You looked away feeling guilty as tears glimmered in her eyes. To you it was just a bit of fun, to her it meant the world. Even just a few minutes where you seemed interested in her made her feel special. Deep down, you knew she might have liked you, so why did you lead her on and rub yourself against her?

You sighed shakily feeling immensely guilty. San looked down at you, as he noticed tears falling down your eyes.

"Aren't you a mess?" He chuckled and you breathed out shakily

"Shut up san" Your voice broke as you softly spoke. His eyes widened and he sat you down on a barstool.

"Why are you crying, what's wrong?" He asked as he rubbed under your eyes with his thumbs, gripping your jaw with one hand.

"I might have ruined my friendship with Ashe," You said softly and he sighed.

"Why would you think that?" He said, looking into your eyes as you tried averting eye contact.

"Deep down, I had a feeling she liked me, and I made things worse by leading her on. I rubbed myself on her like an idiot and I fucking led her on, gosh I'm such a bad friend!" Your voice cracked as San 'hmmed in understanding.

"Well, why did you do that?" He asked as he gripped your chin making you look back at him.

"I- I... I was drunk, I AM drunk." You clarified, stuttering a bit.

"No you're not," He said matter-of-factly. You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you urged him to continue.

"Y/n, I've known you for more than 5 years now, I've seen you drunk over a million times, I can tell when you're actually drunk... You may have fooled the others, but not me. Here's the real question, why the fuck are you pretending to be drunk?" He asked all of a sudden and you felt vulnerable.

It was crazy how he could read you like an open book. Your eyes widened as you tried looking away, there was no point in continuing the charade at this point. He looked back at you expectantly and sighed, as he saw you getting nervous.

"It's alright, I don't think anyone else noticed either, now please tell me what's wrong?" He said in a soft tone as you sighed.

"I can't tell you San," You said looking back into his eyes.

"Why? We aren't on duty, why are you being so secretive? Especially with me?" He specified the word 'me'. It was true, you usually never kept anything from each other so this was a bit weird.

"I just can't tell you I'm sorry" You sighed, tugging on the roots of your hair, as your hands gripped your scalp. He just sighed in understanding and got up. As he was about to leave, your hand snapped back and you gripped his forearm.

"I'm sorry San, but I can't help it. One more thing, don't you dare tell anyone." Your voice dropped an octave lower and he gulped, he had never seen you so serious before.

"Act as if you know nothing, I'm sorry it has to be this way, but just carry on with whatever you were doing and please stay out of my business just for today." His eyes bore into yours dangerously but you didn't back down. You had never commanded him before, so this must have been serious. He eventually realized it must have been something important and walked away, but not before scoffing at you.

You sighed and looked down, feet dangling over the barstool. That was close. With your cover now blown and known to San, you had to be a little more careful now. You were glad no one else had figured out though, not even your best friend Ashe. Your thoughts went back to Ashe and you felt incredibly guilty. How stupid you were, willing to throw away your friendship of 5 years, your only real friendship just to put on an act and sell your drunk state. Pathetic. You sighed as you looked back to where you were a couple of minutes ago. Although you felt immensely guilty, you couldn't help it, it was a part of your act.

Trying to go back to what you were doing, you eyed a few of the people at the bar. Although you had to act drunk, actually drinking was off-limits for today. You ordered a sparkling lemonade for yourself while looking around. Meanwhile, your eyes caught on Seonghwa. He was leaning against a counter, head leaning back. his eyes were closed and his soft bangs fell over his forehead. He brought his drink up to his lips and took a small sip. As he swallowed you saw how his adam's apple bopped up and you gulped feeling giddy inside. You tried shaking yourself out of it, but when he placed his drink aside and ran his hand through his soft, black hair, you almost lost it. You could barely see the sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he brushed his fingers through his hair.

Luckily for you, you were interrupted by the bartender bringing over your drink, and you looked away embarrassed. You shook your head to get rid of any weird thoughts or feelings as you were sure you were practically drooling. Without looking, you brought the glass to your lips to have a sip. Just as you were about to take a sip though, you caught a whiff of a rather familiar smell. You pulled the glass away from your lips and looked questioningly at the bartender.

He just looked the other way and raised his eyebrows, ushering you to follow his gaze. As you did, you found a well-built, tall, brown-haired man staring back at you. You looked back at your drink and swirled it around a bit. You noticed that it was an alcoholic drink and there were some undissolved white particles at the bottom of the cup. You looked back up at him and he simply winked at you, smirking. Pathetic. He just tried to fucking drug you and thought you'd fall for it.

You smirked realizing your act worked and he actually thought you were drunk. You tried to cover up your discomfort and simply flashed him a lop-sided smile. You turned around, tilting your head back and lifting your hand to your mouth, acting as if you had just downed the drink. You sneakily slid the drink over the counter into some far corner, so no one would notice. You messed up your hair slightly before turning back around to catch his attention to further solidify your act. As soon as you turned back around to look at the guy though, you noticed he was gone. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around, trying to find him.

"Looking for me, honey?" You heard someone sensually whisper into your ear from the side. Chills ran down your spine, but you tried to cover up your discomfort and disgust. You turned to him, looking him in the eyes, making sure to look a little droopy before calling out to him.

"Hi~" You slurred, making sure to breathe out so your warm breath hit his face. His eyes immediately rolled in pleasure, jaw-dropping as he took in your sexy aura. You almost scrunched your face in disgust but clenched your jaw to stop your reflexes. He opened his eyes again and inched closer to your face as he spoke again.

"You're so gorgeous, damn, how have I never noticed you?" He said, his breath hitting your face. Your nose scrunched as you smelled the alcohol in his breath. Luckily he thought you were just reacting to his compliment. More importantly, however, you confirmed he was drunk... Perfect. He would most likely let down his guard so you had a solid chance at executing your plan. He also revealed that he was a regular at the bar, another important piece of information you needed to confirm your suspicions.

You giggled as your hand slowly trailed up his chest. You rested your hand firmly on his chest as you tried to push yourself further into him. He hummed and trailed a hand down to your waist. Although you didn't want his hands all over you, it was inevitably a part of the job, so you tried your best to just power through it and ignore it.

He leaned in closer until his bangs fell over your forehead. He secured his hands around your waist and held you tight. You flinched from the roughness and tried squirming around to loosen, his grip but he didn't budge. Soon a hand trailed to the side of your hip and you knew where this was going. You sighed and looked down at his hand. Normally, you would have instantly pushed him away, but this mission was far more important than how you were feeling at the moment.

He rested his hand near the dip of your waist, right above your hip, testing the waters. Remembering that you needed to act drowsy, you looked back up at him, your eyes fluttering as you smiled one last time, before falling limp in his arms. You heard him grunt as he easily threw you over his shoulder. Although this should have seemed like a major red flag to anyone around you, people weren't paying attention and they probably didn't care either. You internally whined at the situation you were in and slyly looked around, he was walking towards the back of the club, near the backrooms. You wiggled around a bit in his arms and he resorted to pressing a hand against your ass. You moved around slightly, still acting as if you were drugged, trying to get his hand off you, you couldn't directly push it off as he'd know something was up.

"Where are we goingg" You slurred, trying to indicate you were still conscious.

"Don't worry about that, honey" He whispered, smacking your ass. What a pathetic sick fuck he was. You groaned at the impact, bracing yourself for what was to come next.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was simply looking around, observing his surroundings and being cautious as usual, when he noticed a man carrying one of the ladies into the backrooms. He knew she was unconscious, most likely drugged and being taken into the room against her will. It seemed as though the people around them didn't even care. He looked a little more closely and noticed what she was wearing. A bodycon black dress up till her thighs, with studded embellishments on the waistline and straps. It was you. He has seen you around the headquarters, tagging behind San all the time.

"Y/n?" He whispered, beginning to get a little angry, it was one thing to mistreat a woman and force yourself on her, but it was another to mess with a member of his gang. He saw how you were thrown over his shoulder, head hanging upside down, hair cascading down halfway to the floor. He huffed in anger, looking around for backup, ready to stop him, but when he saw the man smack your ass and feel up your dress, he lost it. He smashed his glass of whiskey onto the nearest counter, glass shattering as he did so.

He immediately pushed past the people around him, trying to get to you. His head tilted slightly down, eyes locked on his target, a few meters ahead. He looked psychopathic in all honesty. His bangs covered his forehead and eyes slightly. With his head tilted down, he was able to cover up his deadly eyes and killer expression. He couldn't care less about the people around him at that moment, his only concern was teaching that guy a lesson for messing with his gang.

He pushed past some people, shoving a couple of guys on the way until he was about halfway there. He was ready to just fully commit and barge across another load of people before he was interrupted.

"Uhh Hwa? What are you doing? Why do you look like you're about to kill someone?" He heard someone next to him say. He whipped his head to the side, ready to punch whoever it was that came in his way, before realizing it was San

"Because that's exactly what I was about to do, before you came in my way, now move." San shivered at his tone. Never had Seonghwa ever commanded San in such a way. Sure Seonghwa had been angry a lot in the past, but his frustration this time seemed more emotionally fuelled.

"No, no, no, that isn't a good idea, how about we think about this for a secon-"

"I SAID MOVE! Can't you hear me?" Seonghwa growled as San violently flinched at his loud tone.

"Why what's so urgent, is everything alright?" San inquired, straightening his clothes a bit, and regaining his composure.

"I'm not obligated to tell you that" Seonghwa finally said, before shoving San out of the way and walking towards the direction the man was walking before. What he didn't realize though, was that in the time it took him to talk to San, the man had seemingly disappeared.

"What's wrong?" A voice from beside broke him out of his thoughts.

"Look what you've done, I lost the man now" Seonghwa replied, massaging his temple, trying to calm his frustration.

"What man?"

"Someone threw the girl- Y/n over his shoulder and took her to one of the back rooms" He claimed, gripping the bridge of his nose in annoyance. San's eyes widened and he gasped. He knew you were up to something tonight but was this a part of your plan?

"What?" Was the only thing he could muster. He wanted to ask why, where, and how you even got in that situation, but he was too stunned.

"Not only that, he had the guts to slip his hand under her dress and feel her up, not to mention inappropriately grab her and spank her" He sighed, beginning to look around again. San gasped and immediately began frantically looking.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier" He panicked, looking around, running towards the backrooms trying to find you. He didn't doubt that you could defend yourself, but what if someone did drug you. He knew you knew better than to accept drinks from strangers and were always cautious, but he couldn't help but worry. His breath quickened and he began pacing around frantically.

"Calm down, we'll find her" He felt a pat on his shoulder, reassuring him. He let out a sigh, before nodding and continuing to look around.

"Why does this girl mean so much to you anyway?" Seonghwa dared to question, voice slightly laced with a negative tone. Was he shaming him, threatening him, genuinely curious, or maybe even slightly jealous of the way you were able to bond so easily?

"You don't even know the half of it."

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Meanwhile, the man had dragged you into one of the rooms in the back, locking it before, dropping you on the bed. Your legs dangled off the bed as he slowly approached you. He unfastened his belt and slowly pulled it through the belt loops. Through the corner of your vision, you were able to see exactly what he was doing and you knew where this was going.

He dropped the belt and slowly climbed on the bed, hovering over your legs. Meanwhile, your fists clenched unconsciously, head slowly turning away from him as he approached you. You really didn't want to do this, but you had no other choice. You had to keep him occupied for another hour or so and you had no clue how else to. You couldn't poison him or knock him out as you had no clue what tracking devices he could have had on him. Your jaw tightened and your hands unconsciously gripped at his shirt, subtly trying to push him away. Feeling some rustling from underneath, he looked down at your hands and noticed you pushing him away.

"Aw, honey there's no need to be scared" He whispered and you internally sighed.

"I never got your name, by the way, I bet a pretty face like this has a pretty name too..." He whispered into your ear from above.

"Y/n" You weakly grumbled.

"Yours?" You dared to question him back.

"Jungwoon, but I doubt you'll remember it tomorrow," He said, caressing your face. You sighed and realized he was right, you had to act as nothing had happened.

You shouldn't be able to even remember that his name was Jungwoo- Wait. His name is Jungwoon. Jungwoon? That wasn't the name you were told earlier when you were informed of the mission. Unless you got the wrong person... Your eyebrows furrowed unintentionally as you tried processing the information.

"Why? surprised honey? I'm second in line to the Kwon empire, brother of the infamous mafia boss, CJ Kwon" He said snickering a little. What an idiot, he just admitted his identity and now you confirmed your suspicions. You got the wrong fucking person.

You scoffed realizing your mistake, and he simply looked at you, confused. You shoved your knee in his groin, as you lifted yourself upright. He flew backward slightly at the impact, feet back on the ground as he tried regaining his composure.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? How aren't you out?" He questioned, still bent over, clutching his sensitive area. You just ignored him, standing up and tilting your head to the side, trying to figure out what you were going to do. The whole reason you couldn't knock him out was because of any tracking devices he might have had. Now knowing he was the son of a big Mafia empire, you had to be careful.

"Okay I mean no harm, I don't want to hurt. You're a trash person, but I still don't want to get into any trouble, so if you could excuse me" You raised your hands, trying to get out of the room as soon as possible. He made it quite difficult for you though, as he pulled out a gun from one of his back pockets, aiming it at you.

"Absolutely not! You're a crazy lady and you attacked me, I can't let you go" He aimed the gun right at your chest as you raised your hands above your head. You slowly started walking towards him, but he cut you off.

"Don't come any closer!" He gripped the gun harder, finger on the trigger. You examined his posture and the way he was holding a gun, for some indicator or weak spot. You looked at his fingers and then the gun. Aha!

"You leave me with no choice, I wasn't going to hurt you, but seeing as you're literally pointing a gun at me, I can't help it." You sighed, hands dropping to your waist, as you looked him dead in the eye.

"I'm gonna shoot you first, you crazy bitch." He huffed, readjusting his stance, now aiming the gun at your head.

"You see, the gun you're holding is a Kahr MK9-1, so the ejection port is visible. It isn't pushed back completely, meaning the gun is unloaded. Furthermore, the magazine release is triggered, meaning there aren't any bullets loaded either." You sighed, pressing your temples. His eyes widened as he pulled the trigger, only for a soft click to be heard. He removed the magazine, inspecting it, indeed, he forgot to load his gun.

"You're an idiot, you brought an unloaded gun, what good is that?" You scoffed, now walking towards him. You cracked your knuckles before raising an eyebrow at him. He backed up, a little scared of you now, you seemed to be well versed with guns and Mafias, you must have been a part of a gang. You were smaller than him, but we were aware that you could very well be capable of more.

"No, no, no, I'll let you go" He nervously said before gulping.

"Now what fun is that?" You said, tilting your head and snickering at him. He backed up into a corner of the room as you walked closer towards him.

"How does it feel huh?" You whispered as he looked down at you afraid for what was coming next.

"How does it feel to be backed into a corner? I bet it sucks, right? Well, that's what you've been doing to a bunch of innocent girls at the bar, so take this as a lesson before trying to pull something on anyone else next time." You sneered as he looked down at you blankly. His attitude and facial expressions were getting on your nerves so you decided to teach him a lesson.

You shoved your right arm into his jaw, with a clean uppercut. Shoving him backward as he stumbled, falling back into the wall behind him.

"Do you understand, you sick fuck?" You yelled as you grabbed the collar of his shirt. He nodded his head rapidly as he held his jaw in his hands. You just scoffed and left the room, head mildly aching from the idiot you just had to deal with.

As soon as you left the room, however, you remembered your mission. You panicked realizing you might have fucked up everything. You got the wrong person, meaning the real target was somewhere out there. You started brisk walking until you reached the main area, away from the backrooms. You fixed your hair quickly, trying to look for your target. Knowing what Jungwoon looked like, finding his brother, now shouldn't be too hard. You jogged through the crowd, looking around, scanning the place the best you could.

You looked back at the usual seating spot for your gang and realized it was practically empty. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran over to the seats there, looking for any familiar faces. You reached the area, noticing there were a few cigarette packets, vapes, and half-empty drink glasses, however no people in sight. You inspected the area, trying to look for any clues as to why and where they would have gone.

Sweat started collecting at the back of your neck, realizing this may have been your fault. It was your responsibility to occupy CJ tonight and you failed. What if he got to your gang? What if he had gotten to Seonghwa. You shakily sighed, a hand going up to your face to press your temples. You gulped dryly before thinking of a possible explanation. Your thoughts were cut short though, by a loud booming voice from behind you.

"Hands where I can see them bitch!"

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Meanwhile, Seonghwa and San were going crazy, trying to look for you. San was admittedly panicking more, while Seonghwa was mildly frustrated.

"Where is sheee?" San whined. By now he was starting to get genuinely worried. Of course, he believed you could take care of yourself, but the whole night you seemed extremely shady. You were hiding things from him and were pretending to be drunk. What if you got caught up in some dangerous schemes?

"Calm down, we'll find her, we just have to-" bang! Seonghwa started, only for him to be cut off by a loud bang. Both of them knew better, it was a gunshot. They exchanged knowing glances, before scurrying to their side of the bar. Although your safety was quite important too, it was Seonghwa's duty to make sure the rest of his gang was alright too.

With people screaming and running around, getting to where they wanted was a little harder. San roughly pushed through the crowd, while Seonghwa stayed a little more cautious, one hand clutching the gun in his back pocket.

"Move!" San roared at the passersby. His voice startled the people around, and they made way for them. San ran over to their usual corner, pulling a gun out of his pocket, firmly grasping it with both hands, holding it in front of him, remaining cautious. Meanwhile, Seonghwa, followed behind closely, running a hand through his hair, chains of his belt jingling as he paced around the area. San squinted, his gun still in front of him as he looked for the gang members. As soon as they reached their side of the club they realized what all the commotion was.

"Drop your weapon, let him go!" San yelled as he witnessed one of the members from an opposing gang hold a knife to one of the young spy's neck. He simply snickered, tightening his grip, the knife now cutting through the skin of his neck slightly as blood dripped down his neck. The young boy squirmed, only for the knife to dig deeper into his neck. He grunted, tears pooling in his eyes.

"What a fucking coward, going for the younger ones, eh?" Seonghwa growled, a dangerous yet playful tone to his voice. The growl was heard in his voice as it dropped in pitch and volume, deliberately trying to scare the man.

The man with the knife didn't budge, however, simply chuckling before, running the knife along the neck of the boy, cutting horizontally across his smooth skin. The boy cried, as his hands came up to grip the knife, only for him to feel lightheaded and nearly pass out. The rest of your gang members gasped, some even whimpering at the young boy's situation. The man with the knife looked back at your gang members as they looked helpless. They couldn't do anything, they knew if they did, he would cut the boy's neck cleanly in half. He looked back and deeply chuckled before refocussing his attention on the two men in front of him.

As he looked ahead though, he realized they were nowhere in sight. He looked around only to be greeted by a cold hard piece of metal pressing against the side of his head.

"I said let go" Seonghwa grumbled lowly, his voice deathly commanding and serious. The man gulped, looking at the gun pointed at his head, through the corner of his eyes. Before Seonghwa could fire his shot, however, a strong pungent smell spread across the room, he furrowed his eyebrows as he heard coughs and whimpers.

"Not so fast, Park" He heard someone snicker. He noticed how San, who was standing right in front of him, began to stumble, gripping onto a chair next to him. It must have been poison or some sort of toxic gas. Seonghwa felt the room spinning, his vision getting blurry as he looked around at his gang members coughing and clutching their stomachs.

"Cover your mouths and noses" He tried to warn them, only for it to come out as a bare whisper. He looked around, most of the members now passing out. He saw San, clutching his stomach, before looking up at him. His eyes fluttered as they got droopier. San simply grunted in pain before mumbling a soft 'sorry' and passing out, his head falling straight to the floor. Seonghwa felt helpless, he tried resisting it, but everything in his body burned. His throat burned and his ears rang.

He clutched his ears, a loud ringing noise making its way to his ears, overwhelming his senses. He let out a gasp, feeling breathless as his trachea burned. His eyes soon fluttered shut as he tried gripping onto the last strings of hope, before succumbing to the poison and passing out...

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"Hands where I can see them bitch!" A loud noise made its way to your ears. You slowly raised your hands as you slowly turned around. Behind you was probably your worst nightmare. Most of your gang members had passed out cold, behind the man. Some of them even tied up to chairs. San, Seonghwa, Ashe, and a young boy were tied to chairs, while the rest were still on the ground. You looked up at the man in shock, your eyebrows furrowing as your tried to process the situation. His face resembled Jungwoon's so there was only one logical explanation, this was his brother, CJ, the man you were after all along.

"Is this some sort of sick game to you?" You dared to question, walking closer to the man. He simply chuckled at you, firing the gun in your direction. It didn't seem as if he tried to kill you, although he aimed for the top of your shoulder, the bullet grazing your acromion. You screamed in pain, crouching down, your hand instantly flying to your shoulder. Albeit a mere flesh wound, it managed to dig quite deep, leaving a deep open would. Blood gushed through the wound as you pressed harder, trying to stop the blood flow.

"Well, it could be if you wanted it to be" He claimed, laughing at your situation. You looked up at him from the floor, shooting daggers with your eyes. He chuckled as one of his members passed him a water bottle. He snickered, before opening it, taking a sip, and clearing his throat. You furrowed your eyebrows, how was he so relaxed, the fate of an entire mafia gang was in his hands.

He chucked half the bottle into Seonghwa's face, and then another quarter into San's. He threw the bottle into some distant corner and yanked at Ashe's hair. Meanwhile, Seonghwa gasped, regaining consciousness, which must have only been a temporary toxin. His hair was wet, water dripping down his bangs, as they fell over his face. He glared daggers at the guy, before trying to get up, only for him to realize he was tied up. He struggled in the ropes, the rough edges, digging into his silky smooth skin.

San had also regained consciousness, gasping as coughed and choked. He blinked realizing the situation he was in. He looked around, noticing Seonghwa, and Ashe, and the other younger boy, as well as the rest of his gang members, and then finally you. His eyes widened as he struggled to try to free himself.

"Y/n?! You're okay?!" He questioned, sighing in relief as he finally found you. His relief was only short-lived, however, as he noticed you clutching your shoulder. He noticed the dark red stains on your hand and neck, a pool of blood on the floor, dripping from your shoulder down to your elbow and onto the floor.

"What did he- What did you- YOU BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER, LET HER GO!?" He yelled, tugging on his ropes. He didn't care about himself at the moment, only what happened to you. You noticed how he started pulling harder, the ropes now digging into his skin as he tried pulling out. His wrists were bruised as the soft skin of his arms cut due to the rough edges of the rope. Blood trickled down his arms as his arms got raw from the pulling and tugging of the rope.

"San-ah, don't resist, I'm fine" Your voice wavered, as you tried regaining composure. Seonghwa's eyes softened as he noticed the sheen of your eyes, tears collecting. He sighed, looking down, unable to look at your current state, you must have been in so much pain, both physically and emotionally.

"I-" You started, only for your voice to break, a strangled sob escaping. Seonghwa's head whipped up as he noticed how you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now falling down your cheeks. You bit down your lip, as your shoulders shook. Your head faced the ground but it was clear you were crying. Whimpers and sniffs echoed as members of the opposing gang simply laughed.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up, but he had to stay calm. Seeing you break down like this in front of everyone, evoked a feeling of fury and seething rage. He simply looked away, unable to take in the sight of you being so vulnerable. You had always been one of the toughest ones in the gang.

"Now, now, no need to cry honey" You heard CJ whisper. He roughly yanked Ashe's hair once more and you winced at the way her neck snapped to the side. She got up with a sharp inhale, and a loud groan as she tried to understand the situation. CJ walked closer to you, his hand gripping your chin, tilting it up towards him. Seonghwa grunted as he tried tugging harder at the ropes.

"Don't touch her, you son of a bitch" Seonghwa finally growled. His eyes glaring daggers at CJ. This was the first time you heard him speak tonight and it was a tone you weren't too pleased to hear. His voice had a slight rasp to it, voice lower than the deepest trench of the ocean. Water dripped down his face and neck, making the side of his face shine in the light. His dampened clothes clung to his body as his eyes glared through his bangs.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't have too much fun. Now, if you could please get up for me, my darling I have an important mission for you" He maniacally giggled. You mustered all the energy you had and pushed yourself onto your feet, one hand still clutching your shoulder. He handed you his gun and your eyebrows furrowed. He stepped back and you instantly took the chance to point the gun at him. Your breath quickened as you tried to calculate his next move, what on earth was he up to.

"ah-ah darling, it's not me you'' be shooting. It's one of them" He pointed behind him to your four other gang members tied up in chairs. Ashe gasped as she let out a strangled sob, San gasping as well, as Seonghwa simply sighed, taking in your expression. You looked blankly back at him as you readjusted the grip on your gun with your wounded arm.

You shifted your gaze behind him, only to notice, four other men, standing behind the chairs, a gun pointing to each of their heads. "Shoot anyone else, and a bullet goes through all their skulls... that wouldn't be a pretty sight, would it?" He claimed, laughing at his own crazy scheme. By now Ashe was crying hysterically and you couldn't help but feel emotional too. You tried looking away, knowing the second you would look into any of their eyes, you'd break down. You roughly wiped at your nose, nodding, agreeing to his terms.

"I love a game of Russian roulette." You sniffed, chuckling sarcastically.

"May I spin the barrel?" You asked innocently and CJ simply chuckled loudly.

"I knew you had it in you!" He laughed, roughly patting your back. You rolled your eyes before inspecting the gun a bit. You opened the barrel, realizing there was only one bullet, he must have known when the first bullet would go off. You internally smiled realizing you had cracked the code.

You locked the barrel in place, before spinning it, the bullet clanking across the cylinder. Your arms shivered slightly as you raised the gun. Bingo! You were never one to be afraid when it came to guns. The shivering was an act. An act to shake the gun a little to hear where the bullet was clanking. You heard the clanking on the bottom of the barrel, realizing the bullet was going to fire on the 5-6 shot. Realizing it had already gone off once when CJ shot you, it was only logical that the bullet was in the 5th chamber.

You smiled before aiming the gun at San first. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized you were proceeding with this absurd plan. The moment he saw you smile, however, he knew you had everything under control. Besides, he trusted you. You winked at him, before placing your finger over the trigger.

"Just to clarify, If I shoot all of them once, you leave us alone? Whether one of them gets shot or not?" You spoke up, glancing from the corner of your eye.

"That is correct. Now, take your shot lady." You smiled back at him, before pulling the trigger while the gun was aimed at San. He flinched slightly at the noise but quickly covered up as a laugh erupted from him.

"This one got lucky... try the next one" CJ urged you. You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the unconscious boy. He looked young, maybe 16 or 17, and his neck was slashed, blood oozing from it at a slow rate. You quickly looked away and pulled the trigger. Despite knowing it wouldn't go off, you still had to act as if you were scared. Ashe yelped from next to the boy at the loud noise and Seonghwa sighed in relief.

"Well, well, well, I guess they both got lucky... How about your best friend now, you both seemed to be getting it on the dance floor no? It would be a shame for this epic love story to end so tragically." Ashe blushed a deep red as San chuckled from the side laughing quietly. You huffed in annoyance before pointing the gun at her. Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to speak.

"Y/n, if this gun goes off right now, just know that I forgive you, it's not your fault, no matter what-"

"Shut up Ashe" You yelled. The last thing you needed was a sad emotional goodbye, as you knew the second you saw her cry, you would too.

"No! Listen to me, never for a second think that you're responsible for any of this. I love you a lot, and I'm still mad at what you did back then, but it-" bang! Ashe squealed as the next gunshot went off. CJ's jaw dropped, another one was left unscathed. You winced slightly as she flinched. You didn't mean to be rude, but she was getting a little too sappy and you already felt terrible.

"You've been lucky so far, but it's a 1 in 2 chance now. Chances are, the legendary Mafia boss, Seonghwa Park will die, right here, tonight. Not just that, but to the hands of one of his most loyal members." He chuckled maniacally and you pointed the gun at Seonghwa. He gulped as he noticed your finger on the trigger, awfully close to pulling it. You looked straight into his eyes and could sense the fear in them. He gulped, eyes shifting around the room as his foot bounced impatiently.

You sighed, mouthing a "trust me" subtly, and smiling at him. His eyes widened as he realized you had planned this all along. You knew exactly when the bullet was going to go off. He should have known, besides you were the second-best with guns in the entire gang, of course, you would know. His eyes softened, as the corners of his lips tugged upwards.

You returned the smile and readjusted your stance. Meanwhile, CJ on the side had no clue what was coming. He believed with this next shot, the mafia boss of the Park gang would be dead, already coming up with plans to take over the empire.

You pulled the trigger and Seonghwa didn't even flinch. He simply chuckled deeply, before tilting his head back... that's how much he trusted you at that moment. CJ's jaw dropped. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go.

"ONE MORE!" CJ yelled at you as you flinched at the sudden loud voice. Seonghwa's eyes furrowed as he heard him. Your eyes widened as you processed the situation.

"I said one more! Take one more shot, or I'll drive a bullet through Park's head. I don't care who you shoot, but one of you is not going to leave alive today, and I will make sure of it." CJ grumbled, another one of his members passing him a gun. He pointed the gun at Seonghwa's head shoving it into his forehead. Seonghwa inhaled sharply before looking back at you, worried. It was obvious to everyone now that whoever you shot was going to die now. The last chamber had the bullet, so it would fire.

"Why do you care so much about someone dying today!" San yelled from the side.

"You took away one of my young hackers. You shot him right in the back. He's paralyzed now! FUCKING BASTARD SAN! I don't take such matters lightly, and for ruining his life, one of you is now going to pay with yours! I don't care who it is, one of you is going to die!" CJ yelled, gripping San's collar. He gulped realizing CJ found out about one of his missing hackers. Truth was, San helped him fake his paralysis to get him out of that vicious gang. He was now working for you, but CJ could never know that, or he'd go after the young boy.

"So it doesn't matter who I shoot?" You clarified, your voice shaking slightly to sell the act. CJ grinned from ear to ear, looking back and nodding smugly. Seonghwa looked at you with concern as he knew you were up to something. His eyes furrowed as you lifted the gun.

"What about this?" You asked, now pointing the gun directly at your chest. San gasped from the side, Ashe yelling at you to stop, while Seonghwa's eyes widened.

"I supposed that is acceptable too. Now get on with it!" He yelled as both the gangs waited for your next move. You took in a deep breath of air before pulling the trigger of the gun. You gasped at the impact, and fell to the ground, clutching your chest.

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur. Not from the actual shot itself, but the commotion around you. You heard the footsteps of the opposing gang members as they scurried out the club. You heard a bunch of cries and whimpers from presumably San and Ashe.

Your back made contact with the floor with a loud thud, as you winced from the pain. Seonghwa immediately felt a surge of urgency, as he tried breaking free from the ropes. He yanked as hard as he could, cutting through his wrists slightly, as the ropes snapped. His wrists were bloody and his arms were bruised all the way p, but he couldn't care less.

He roughly yanked at San's ropes, loosening them a bit, just enough for San to free himself. His breath quickened and his eyes widened as he approached you. He rushed over, immediately crouching down to your level. He sat down on his knees, desperately trying to hold you up. He shifted next to you and brought your head to rest on his lap. Your eyes fluttered shut, as his big arms cradled your face, holding your cheeks in each hand. His cut wrists, left a trail of blood, on the exterior of your face, your hair clinging to your face from the damp blood and sweat.

"No, no, no, you're strong Y/n, you're going to survive this" He whispered to you, his breath caressing your face as his shallow breaths continued. He must have really freaked out. He began lightly, tapping your face, shaking your head in his hands slightly. He, brushed your hair away from your face as his fingers rested on your temple. You heard him let out a whimper, as you felt a warm droplet fall onto your cheek. Wait... was he crying? It couldn't have been... The legendary Park Seonghwa crying over one of his members dying. What a sight. He shifted slightly, moving one of the hands that were cradling you to press at your chest. His large palm, pressed softly at your chest, rubbing against the bottom of your left breast. That's where you drew the line.

"Uh-uh, hands off me" You claimed, pushing past Seonghwa, trying to get up. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes widened. You promptly stood up, as he remained seated on the floor, not understanding the situation. You walked over to the younger boy, untying him too, before grabbing a tissue, pushing at the large wound in his neck. You looked around, trying to find someone to help you, and looked at San. His eyes were wide as he was frozen in place.

"Stop staring and come help me, you ass!" You yelled, ushering to come over. He quickly rushed over, before cupping your cheeks.

"I thought you were going to die..." His voice broke, as you scoffed.

"Come on now, I wouldn't leave you that easilyyy" You whined before guiding his hand to the boy's neck.

"Hold it in place, we need to get him medical attention quickly, or he might bleed out." You passed him the tissues, before walking to untie Ashe. As soon as her wrists and arms were untied she pounced on you. She engulfed you in a hug, sobbing into your shoulder.

"You dumb bitch" She cried into your shoulder, as you patted her head, cradling her face. She pulled away and you looked down feeling guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry" You whispered out, only for her to scoff, before pulling you into another bone-crushing hug. You winced in pain, as your shoulder was hurting quite a bit. You simply resorted to rubbing her back for now. Your little moment was broken by a small cough heard from the ground. You looked down, only to notice, Seonghwa was still sitting on the floor, eyes wide, as he tried processing what was happening.

"Mr. Park... You're uh, still on the floor..." He looked right into your eyes, his eyes narrowing as he pushed himself up to his feet, walking towards you. He looked down at you as you tilted your head up, making direct eye contact.

"Firstly, I am touched and flattered that you cried for me, who would have thought..." You said, more to yourself, as Seonghwa brought his hands to his face, touching under his eyes. He realized his cheeks were wet with tears, as he roughly rubbed at them, sniffing and scrunching his nose.

"Secondly, that was inappropriate, dude! You can't just go around groping women you know?" You yelled as his eyes widened. You pointed back at your chest, indicating where he had tried pressing before. You knew he was trying to prevent, possible bleeding, but you couldn't help but tease him a little. He refocussed his attention to your chest, staring at the hole in your dress.

"Eyes up here buddy" You caught his attention. He scoffed, before bringing you into a hug. Engulfing your smaller body in his larger build.

"Ow! my shoulder, be careful, Park!" You scowled as he pulled back.

"Y/n what the fuck? You're supposed to be dead" He finally said, before bringing his hands, to your shoulder, to inspect the wound.

"Actually no" You pulled back, pulling the neckline of your dress down. His eyes widened as a blush grew on Seonghwa's cheeks. You flipped the top of your black lace bra outwards showing a navy blue thicker lining underneath.

"Bulletproof lining, I managed to push it up from my stomach to my chest when I uh, broke down" Seonghwa sighed, pressing his temples.

"You weren't crying?" He asked, a hand cupping your cheek as he spoke.

"Well no, it was a distraction, to bend over and push up the lining to my chest. The tears from before as well, they were fake too, sorry San, I had to sell my act..." You mumbled but San still heard. He scoffed as he walked towards you.

"I figured as much" He smiled back at you.

Seonghwa tightened his grip on your jaw as he realized something. You gasped as you tried pulling away.

"You knew what was going to happen? Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He said a little louder. You didn't budge, knowing what you did was right.

"Because! If I were to tell you, you would have brought around 20 other bodyguards accompanying us. Besides this wasn't even the original plan... I was supposed to sleep with CJ, distract him for the night so he couldn't carry out his plan. Turns out I got caught up with his brother and had to... deal with him first." Seonghwa loosened his grip on your jaw before sighing, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"Regardless, I'm proud of you, you know? You outsmarted them all and saved our lives. I owe you thanks." He said before stepping back. You felt dampness on the side of your head. Realizing it was blood, you grabbed his forearm, before inspecting his cuts and bruised wrists.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" You scoffed, before, walking over to get him a tissue to wipe the dried blood for now.

"For you, Y/n... I thought you were dying..." He sighed as gripped onto the base of your dress.

"So what? It's a part of the job. I knew what I was signing up for. I very well knew that death was a possible risk. Besides, why care about me so much? I'm rather expendable actually." You said matter-of-factly.

"No, you're not. Never feel like that. You mean a lot to the gang, a lot to me. Even though we don't interact often. I know how much you do for the gang, how much work you put in for everyone." He said, looking at you sincerely. You smiled back at him softly, booping his nose, turning on your heel.

"Let's get cleaned up shall we?"

[captainkurosolaire]

~ Mass Update ~

Mainly going into future plans and intents alongside ideas below cut.

Ton's of things I've in store this will prove difficult to vent it all out. But here we go... First off rehashing and appropriately learning to tag and organize things better on my blog. Each category will have their own corresponding content, I seek to bring or share. [Tales of Goldbrand] -- I intend this to carry a Compendium of all my writes soon that'll have everything neatly in-order including a glossary, so it'll have highlights of stories that even matter or the best stuff. I've written here for a very, long time, there's been many shifts. I want to make it more accessible. While coloring what matters for people who want to learn Captain or his Crew with less chapters. While also giving choice to find it all easily. This is essentially a step-above master-lists. I'll be doing that after the Saga I have going on, right now is done. [Captain] -- Will provide you strictly with Captain screenshots, gifs, photo-sets. This is still his blog despite the Crew thing's will sort of make this a scuffed Multi-Muse blog. I've few more things to edit and tag fix to get all his stuff though. [The Wild Crew] -- Afterwards this story is done Immortal Age Saga, It's something that I mainly wrote as a passion project within three days to get my warm-up process fixed. It's to allow me to get a feel for all his Crewmates and casts, in combat, in-general, to feel their presences. While also giving a bit of their backstories. At any point, I can go back and polish or tweak things in. They're NPC's but... not entirely. All will have their own 'Dreams' and their own 'Disapproval's' they have their own missions even. These things will factor eventually, they might set seeds, to betray or disagree with something, but that's all angst and more stories to be created, but overall, they'll probably always be Crew, eventually. -- I plan on making character-profile sheets of them and putting them in this Tab, it'll have their screenshots, their likes/dislikes. Some RP partners or people can also be shipped with them, but they'll all be monogamous and originally start off probably Pan. This allows them to figure out what they like on their own stories. I've always been someone who likes organic-flow. Although this one story contain all 16 characters or more, the rest will probably be shortened to a Squad of 4 and dispersed when on adventuring missions. Until I do a War Arc, that's my main goal to build too. [Roster] -- Will contain this Crew in just screen-sets dedicated to them, I'll probably randomly produce those. I've PC players among this Crew too. I may not be done either adding more, but this Crew is mainly built around Quality. Most pirate crew's mainly, have hundreds, thousands. Even Fleets. This Crew has personalities, monsters, people who are living life's that exist with piracy. He's an particular leader that had PC players the same way, he's had split-personality serial killers aboard, tribal chieftains, succubus, all sorts of various people once on a Crew. It's often an outcast style, pirates default are chaotic in nature, so this really isn't any different, it's a Fantasy version of it. There's humanization characters aboard too though, so this cast is really decked, everything and person is vital, they matter because they remind or covet something that others can draw upon. If ever played (Three Houses or Mass Effect / Dragon Age Origins) A lot of things like that are relatable too this structure and format. Which, Is something I want to be able to give when RPing. I want a genuine feel of this new world someone else's muse will be the main-character too. Depending on what's interacting everything they'll be scale appropriately to follow the genre they're in and environment even. [Aesthetics] -- Already explainable what you'll find here. [Asks] -- Same thing. [Prompts] -- Trivial things I was tagged too, I plan on compiling later. [Writing] -- Another alternatively to randomly go-down and it works right now. [Logs] -- Will have more individualistic master-lists and posts there, my poems from Sheik Sphere the Bard, etc.

Things of that nature, I'll probably add still. It's where a lot of my creative writing is summed. [Gems of Hydaelyn] -- My main #tag for other characters and artists, creationist. Lot of amazing people easily to find their zones or follow them optionally if you like. Ton's I intend to support and bolster, be a lot less unspoken. I'm never the type who's been strictly inclusive. But I'll do that when I've time to even explore the dash, I'm always still planning ahead with things and projects. [CKS] My original character-sheet it's outdated on something's but not too terrible. I'll give him polishing someday, I swear? [21+F-List] -- Just purely degenerate stuff of Captain. I'm a pirate blog. I will represent that with openness and furthermore. I'm never projecting you some false-image. I started off a smut-writer by stripping that, I no-longer represent the same aura and identity. But those are strictly his stuff and kinks, I'm effective in executing them but they're not all relatable to me OOC. This blog will always be 18+ containing crude or dark material sometimes, romantic things, this Captain is blunt, will literally put his cock on the table in conversations. Swearing and being censored would be too uncommon and displace most of him, but there's more about him then all this. [Other] -- I pay homage to a lot of characters, I originally am a Concept Designer. Which mean's I make characters and ideas like my addiction. Bad characters / villains or other little things I like to share in designs, I'll put there. Some villains might get little photo-sets, even if they died. Just cause I like their design, or maybe I'll give them an AU, where they won. When I've wrapped up things. [Collabs + Ships] -- Is a new project idea. This isn't going to be something limited too romantic only ships. It'll contain, platonic, romantic, friendships, rivals, frenemies, family, PC Crew, all ships. I am desperately working on improving my gif, screenshot, posing game so I can supply 'Screen Stories' this is not only a way to RP that's accessible with even people who are upon time-crunches from work, It gives visual-representation. To impactful stories shared with others and establish bonds. That are all-valid and impactful matter. Lot of people take a lot of their characters attributes into them and are them dialed up, I work with that and bit more, differently. I'm disconnected from my characters and they'll get hurt and injured and killed by me, that's my duty as their Author to give them conflicts and struggles. I'm their major antagonist, but that doesn't mean at-all, it's always SET that way. The characters I like to make have their own life, they live in this setting and are abide by it, they're often nothing, nobodies, and by the interacting with others, they slowly gradually building, more... Through emotional impacts, they alter, these are REAL people by all their beliefs. Each person they come in-contact with are legitimate and treated like that too. They've always impacted or given them insights to grow, or represent more. Otherwise it'd be criminally disrespectful if I allowed any emotional I felt OOC be the grudge to something IC. Captain in-particular is set on defying me. I cannot have that. ...But I can't stop him. He's met and encountered so many people and lived so many scenarios based on the actions of others, he's giving a chance right now to actually do things a lot further than impossible. The more people he meets and encounters, experiences, the more I lose. These stories are emotionally interactive where everything is a factor and adds to the dice, where the other people are the one who get to roll the dice for him, not me. That's something I want to color in. People range in emotions, they have their down's, ups, their own wholesome-grounding people, spending time with your favorite people, there's nothing more cherishing than that, being in your own comfort-zone or 'safe-space' these are all treasures that we live under, today. Contrary if what people assume of me, I'm not another 'blogger' that's came

before, who's wanting to force a harem, then constantly is bewildered when that falls to pieces cause of selfishness or a lack of communication, or the skeletons they have in their closets and beliefs they hid behind and swindled fooled everyone. I'm not looking to be popular or anything really, I just create stories and want to share in those, and I want to also boost others included, upward with me, especially those who make me. There's no ego in anything I do, this is purely love. I've never cared about being replicated or duplicated, I've had stalkers, I've gone through more then anyone would imagine, I've been used OOC and abused, just for my writing and cold-harshly told, i'd never amount to anything other then that or vice-versa. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion. That's all I got and am anymore. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion is the hardest thing to keep. It's something that can be stolen, quite effortlessly. Few words of discouragement, a bad negative representation, a lack of confidence, or small amount of time, there's many thing's that can put that flame out. Once you lose it. The difficulty to reattain is hundred-times harder than climbing any mountain for real. I've watched the greatest creators crumble from under the pressure, from beaten down by others. I watched many of them do it to themselves because they put a grand vision of needing validation of another and once lost, felt uncompelling to press onward. But passion also can be given BACK and drawn. It can be shown and encourage others, with a soft-triggering, that pushes them. That motivates, that constantly sticks to it. There are many that fuel me. If I ever quit, I let them down, I spit in the faces of people who're better than me in every-way. Or people who've came and given me their precious Time. That have given their character's or dedication to the abundant stories and community-driven things I've done. There's ONLY things you can do, create, give and provide. It cannot ever come to life without YOU. This is a fact. ...I swear, If you let your creativity soar, you'll be amazed by the heights you get. Constantly polish and learn and hone the best you, challenge yourself day after painstaking day, to draw better improvement on something, no matter how trivial or unfamiliar you are. You'll find a confidence only you can give yourself. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Future Plans --------------------------------------------------------------------- For me, I've got so much more stories to give and also explore, I might be taking up soon some other artists and more skilled people from community and hire them for some of my future writes, to up my game or cause something thing's can't be done in-game cause no background carries it. I also got a lot of-set up things and more angst stuff I want to practice, plus I'm adamantly on that grind to produce screen-sets with the intent's to some sort of improving daily. Additionally more people I'll be reaching out too soon for these collab's ideas and things. I look forward to shaking your hands, giving some hugs, show you my respect and admiration, then creating some enchanting stories and giving plots light. Feel free to reach out to me, I get scattered-brain but I'm working on getting better about it. Eventually will get to you though, my goals, if uninterested just say so when I poke, no bites, unless you kinky. Anyways, cheers hearties.

[pedropascalssimp]

Hoth

Boba fett x bounty hunter reader

Summary: y/n is a skilled bounty hunter who works for jabba the hut. But even jabba knows that y/n has her limitations, so once jabba sends y/n on a particular hunt, he makes sure that boba is there to assist much to the man in beskar dismay....

Warnings: language. Slight Violence. Boba being grumpy and a bit of an asshole. And fluff.

|Got bored and made this|

The room was full of small chatter, men gathered to watch jabba's women dance, and the women that strayed in eyeing the bounty hunter who walked in with a struggling qaurry hungrily. It was no secret to everyone in the galaxy that boba fett's reputation didn't always revolve around the fact he was the most dangerous man in the galaxy, a skilled bounty hunter who put fear in everyone's core from just a glimpse of his beskar. But he also upheld the reputation of being quite the lady's man, every woman he came across seemed to be wooed by his voice, his word's, his aura. And the man was a tease, he was Arrogant, stubborn and a hard ass. At least that's how most viewed.

Walking to be stood in front of jabba's throne, boba kicks the man he had restrained in the back of his knees, making him fall with a whimper.

"jabba! I - I was going to pay you! I really was! But -

Boba cuts the man's words short by pressing his blaster pistol to the back of his head. "save you're lies for someone fool enough to believe them" his accent couldn't be masked through the modulater in his helmet as he spoke to the qaurry.

Jabba laughs joyfully at the sight of boba fett's triumph, catching the thief who was dumb enough to still from him. "well done fett! You must be rewarded for you're victory! Name a price or take you're pick" jabba motions towards the women chained to his side.

But boba simply shakes his head, "I'll take whatever credits you offer and another job" boba spoke while watching jabba chuckle.

"ah, ready for another hunt? I'll give you you're reward and another job... But that's for tomorrow, now you rest boba fett" the disgusting fat creature said just as you walked in. Two men cowering away as you had them in cuffs.

This draws boba's attention, for he doesn't remember quite seeing you before. Now standing beside boba and his qaurry, you shoved the two men by your side down onto the ground harshly. Boba only watches, intrigued by your heavily armed self and beauty.

"ah! Y/n! You're back earlier then expected!" jabba happily announced, you try hiding your disgust with the looks of the creature, the slob before you. Who had women chained to his side, you hated jabba, hated the way the women looked at you with begging eye's to free them, oh how you wished you could...

"it was an easy job, to easy in fact" you spoke his native tongue while resting a hand on your hip. Not even bothering to glance over at the man who's gaze burned into the side of your head.

"then how about I give you a job more challenging? Would that satisfy you?" jabba asks and you simply nod your head confirming you'd like that. "it's to big of a job for you to handle alone my beautiful little hunter... So I'll send boba fett here to aid you" you lift a brow at jabba then glance over at the man beside you, his t-shaped visor already looking right back at you.

Like hell you'd let this man help you on a hunt, you knew boba fett, heard the stories people told of him. How he was a flirt with the women, how he was a stubborn hardass. You didn't want to work with him.

"I work alone" you and boba both said at the same time, looking at one another you roll your eye's at him.

Jabba laughs, "you two are the best in you're profession, it's only smart to send my best two for the job at hand" he said while looking at you and boba.

"and what is the job at hand?" boba asks before you could, his voice rolled out of his helmet smoothly, like soft dark velvet. You find yourself wanting to listen to him speak more, but you quickly shake that thought away.

"I want han solo, he owes me money... His payment has been overdue for months now" jabba says and starts eating something you wouldn't even poke. You grimace at the sight and look away, boba snickering at your disgust quietly but you heard and glare at him.

"when I said give me a harder job jabba, I didn't mean impossible!" you point out the logical fact han solo was a tricky bastard and hard to catch.

"that's why I'm sending my best hunters for the job, with the two of you looking for him it's possible!" jabba spoke with a mouthful nearly making you vomit. "I'll be rewarding you both generously" you sigh and start considering taking the job, even if it does mean working with boba fett.

"we'll do it" boba tells him not even letting you speak for yourself, this makes your anger surface fast.

"what the hell do you mean we? What if I don't want to do the job?" you say speaking your own language while jabba chews away at whatever the hell it is he's eating.

Boba huffs before crossing his arms, you can't help but flicker your gaze down to admire his strong arms. "you'd be a fool not to take it girl, it's a good paying job" he said making you look back up at his helmet.

"it's a useless hunt... I mean, I don't doubt my strength for a second nor my skills of hunting but I'm no match against a wookie!" you argue with the man, "I honestly don't think you could even take the big fur ball in a fight!" you chuckle dryly. But he scoffs and simply shows you the braided wookie scalps hanging off his shoulders. You look at him surprised, not expecting that. Sure boba looked strong and skilled enough to handle his own well, but he was also shorter then most men you've met and never thought he'd be able to slay not one but two wookies. But you was wrong obviously.

"you were saying princess?" he smugly replied making you tense your jaw and bite your tongue. Speechless. "we'll take my ship and do the job and you won't have to deal with me again..." boba said making you nod, looking away from him and up at jabba.

"have you both settled on a agreement?" jabba asks, watching how you kept your eyes locked on his yellow ones.

"were taking the job... But don't expect me to work with anyone else again jabba, you know I work alone" you say in his language once more, voice dripping with venom as you glare at him. he only chuckles, looking at you wickedly.

"don't ever speak to me with such hostility, for I could always use someone with you're beauty in my collection, I have a spot saved for you..." he threatened you, putting at the empty caller and chain. You look at the spot and back at jabba with a stoic expression, hiding your disgust and fear.

"forgive me for my ignorance then jabba" you say more calmly and rush out of the room, boba bidding jabba bye before following you.

Once out of his palace your greeted with the burning heat of the twin sun's and the scorching sand, practically jogging away from the palace you head toward the town, in dire need of a drink. Hearing footsteps behind you, you simply scoff.

"why are you following me?" you snap, angry with jabba and this stupid hunt you had to prepare for. The cantina comes in sight making you nearly relax at the thought of drinking something, your mouth feeling dry.

"because I'd think you'd want to discuss the upcoming hunt" he said now walking beside you matching your pace.

"well I was hoping I could relax a little in the confines of this dump but obviously that's not gonna happen" you huff and walk through the door of the cantina with boba.

"let me buy you a drink and we'll discuss it here" he offers, and you could never refuse a free drink, so accept his offer reluctantly and slouch in a booth.

Slave I was a pretty neat ship you'd have to admit, you was seated in the co-pilot seat messing around with buttons. Fascinated by the different types of buttons in many colors, you peek over at the mandalorian man who was focused on flying the ship rather then your insistent poking around at the ships controls. Ever so curious you click a red button making a light flicker on, catching the attention of boba. You quickly placed your hands in your lap as if you didn't do anything and he eye's you suspiciously.

"stop playing with things... You act like a toddler" he muttered, watching you shake your head in denial.

"I didn't do anything!" you lie with a innocent smile, but he saw right through it.

"don't lie princess, I saw you out of the corner of my eye. Now keep you're hands to yourself" he scolds you while looking back over the stars that zoomed by.

You sigh deeply and Lean back in the seat, you was bored. Hyperspace not taking you to your destination fast enough in your opinion. Looking over at boba you decide to ask him so questions, what else was there to do?

"so boba... Do you ever take the helmet off?" you ask the question that's been brewing in your mind the moment you saw him. For the first few seconds he's silent before sighing.

"yes" he answered briefly, making you nod with a little grin.

"why don't you take it off now. It must be hot under there" you say, eager to see his face. You'd be lying if you didn't say you wasn't attracted to the mandalorian man before you, he was intriguing, your infatuation with him growing by the second as you traveled with him for only four hours. But damn was boba fett really slithering his way into your thoughts, plaguing your mind as you basically kept your gaze glued to his strong build. His strong arms and damn nice thighs -

"because I don't want to" he spoke snapping you out of your straying thoughts. You only nod and think of another question to toss at him.

"why not? I'm curious to see the man who was ignorant enough to take this job" you tease him with a grin, his helmet tilting in your direction slowly before he scoffs.

"because it's just killing you to see my face, I don't think you've earned that privilege yet though princess... But there's ways you can change my mind" he trailed off with a smug tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice making you shake your head with a chuckle.

"I'll survive without seeing it then" you said with a cheeky grin still. Although your mind began wondering to the ways you could change his mind....

"suit yourself then girl" he shrugs and leans back in his seat, relaxing some before the big hunt.

You smile at him with amusement, so far boba wasn't really that bad you thought. Sure he was smug and grumpy, but other then that he seemed like someone you could get along with.

Until you arrived at hoth, your destination where han and his wookie was supposedly at. This whole situation you found yourself in made you realize that boba fett was indeed, an asshole.

You sat in the ice cave shivering, teeth chattering together while you had your back pressed against the ice wall while hugging your knees to your chest. Small Fur blanket and jacket not nearly enough to keep you warm on this planet. Even the damn fire you made not enough to warm you.

But boba? He seemed fine, his warm under clothes and beskar enough to keep him warm as he laid on his fur blanket by the fire. Arms crossed behind his head as he laid on his back trying to rest some.

You look at him with doe eyes, "b - boba... I think it'd be b - best if we cuddled" you point out the obvious, for you was freezing to death and needed extra body heat.

"I don't cuddle princess" he states, brushing your chattering teeth and shaking off as he tries getting sleep.

You huff, a cloud caused by your breath wafting into the air as you scoot closer to the fire nearly on top of it. "if you wa-wake up and I'm dead... It's y-your fault" you stutter from the cold, nose and cheeks red as you sniffle. Maker this planet was hell.

"you act like you've never experienced I little temperature drop girl, toughen up" he grumbled while making himself comfortable. If you wasn't freezing you'd kick his ass....

"I'm used to planet's like tatooine dickhead" you muttered angrily, Glaring at the man. He only chuckles and shakes his head. That really got on your nerves.

But instead of shooting him or stabbing him in his damned thigh like you desired, your take your fur blanket that hardly covered your whole body, your legs uncovered sadly. You curl up into a shivering ball by the fire and try to sleep, hoping that while your sleeping you can forget the unkind coldness biting at your very being. Closing your eyes you try and lose yourself to sleep, but your shivering kept you awake. Body feeling numb from the cold.

Boba looks over at you with a little frown behind the helmet, hating to see you so cold.... He knew his beskar would be cold to the touch so he reluctantly stands up with a huff, stripping of his beskar leaving him in his underclothes. You peel your eyes open at the clatter of each piece hitting the icey ground, that's when you seen him take his helmet off, revealing a grumpy expression and dark brown eyes looking at you with annoyance. His dark hair short yet soft looking as he strides over with his blanket slung over his arm.

"you're going to die if you don't stay warm" he spoke, his voice even more intoxicating without the vocoder you always heard mask it. You feel your heart melt at the fact boba laid behind you, spooning you from behind as he wraps you up in his big arms, chin resting on your shoulder as he pulled you flush against his chest.

You sigh at his warmth, he felt warmer then the damn fire in front of you. Your shivering slowly subsides as you relish in his warmth, his touch. His and your fur blanket keeping the cold out as he held you.

"thank you..." you murmur, heart fluttering steadily in your chest as you never want to leave this man's arms again. It was comforting, a feeling of pure safety. And it was, he kept you safe from the cold.

"I can't have you die on me now, we still have a bounty to catch" he he whispers in your ear, warm breath fanning over your skin making you shiver for a whole different reason. His large hand finding yours as he held it, letting you cradle it against your chest.

"and here I thought you wanted me dead" you snort with amusement, referring to how you've basically annoyed him through this whole trip. He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"it would make this hunt far easier, but unfortunately it would also make it dull" he whispers, this time his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. Sending chills over your skin. He noticed and smirks, "besides you still haven't earned the privilege to see my face..." he lightly nibbles at your ear making you gasp at the abrupt action, heart pounding.

Damn boba sure knew how to warm a woman up, you was instantly feeling a warmth spread over your cheeks painting them red. "but I've seen you're face -

Your words was cut short as boba chuckles and takes his hand from yours making you nearly pout until he cups your cheek turning your head to look at him, dark eyes seemed darker as he leans down, lips ghosting over your lips now.

"yes... But now you gotta earn it" he pressed his lips to yours, your eyes shutting as you relish in the kiss.

Boba fett wasn't that bad after all. In fact, you hoped that you two would be going on more hunts together in the future.....

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A/n: and I oOp.