#the tempered sword turned out so good i’m !!!!!

[iolitemoth]

here’s my entry for @r0achezz dtyis! this was so fun to do!!!

i decided to change up the pose, basing it on the 2016 Racing Miku figurine (at least i think that’s the right one???)

physical version + version without the filter under the cut!

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Honesty (Daemon Targaryen × Reader)

Summary: In which Prince Daemon seduces his unwilling Lady Wife.

Warnings: Smut. Dub Con/ Non Con. Oral sex (F receiving), P in V sex. Stark reader. Convenience Marriage. No use of Y/N.

A/N: First time writing for Daemon. Reader is the oldest sister of Cregan Stark and acts as his regent. Might write the full story one day. High valyrian from an online translator, not explaining it because I wanted the reader to not know the meaning.

The shift was white, silky, and oh so tiny. You stared at it with contempt. It had cost you a pretty penny, as had the cosmetics Lady Manderly had so eagerly pushed into your hands. Red tint, she had said, to paint your lips and enhance your natural attributes in other areas. The woman had even had the nerve to point at your breasts!

It was ridiculous, this whole thing. Had you been born a man, there would be no need for this nonsense. Had you not been born a Stark, it would still be happening, but perhaps in not such a brutal way. Or had you not been tempered by the cold, made so brazen to insult and oppose Otto Hightower, perhaps your punishment wouldn’t be marital rape.

Still. It was your duty, and you intended to perform it. It was the only way to keep Cregan, Rickon and Sara safe. And you would do it. Prince Daemon, your lord husband, as he insisted you called him, could surely get the deed done faster with the proper incentives.

You took off your gown, having been previously unlaced by your trusty maid. You put on the dreaded, lacy shift. The latest fashion in Dorne, you had been told. For how expensive it was, it certainly was made of little fabric. You glared at your reflection, watching how the long sleeves had a vertical cut that made them useless. Your skin broke out in goosebumps, as you wished you could add more wood to the fire.

Some rustling could be heard outside your room and you panicked. You were running out of time. The tint! Made of some berries, you hoped didn’t poison you. You quickly rubbed it on your lips and cheeks, trying to seem less like the terrified girl you were and more like an appealing sight. You sat down, primly, on the foot of the bed just in time for Daemon to enter the room.

“Wife.” He rumbled, coming to stand in front of you. Daemon had docked his furs and armor, his sword no longer rested at his side, just as your agreement dictated. He had come to you unarmed and barefooted, yet it didn’t make him cut a less intimidating figure in the least. His purple eyes looked at the tint with curiosity, and plucked it from your hands. “Getting ready for me? I’m touched.”

You glared at him, trying to hide how much nerves pooled in your stomach, how you were cold from fear, skin clammy and pale.

“If I must…” You shifted to your hands and knees, and lifted your shift, exposing your naked folds and arse. It was quite the vulnerable position, and heat started to spread almost immediately to your cheeks and neck. You hated the humiliation it brought you.

Daemon’s breath hitched. Clearly affected by the sight of your prone, soft body, on the bed. “What are you doing, zoklītsos?” His hand went to your exposed folds, finding you as dry as the sands of the dornish deserts. You nearly jolted at the touch, and only his hand on your hips kept you in place. It was not a good omen, you had gathered, from nights spent exploring your body before the cold and worries had turned you into the frigid ice queen the lords in the South accused you of being.

“Go ahead. Do it.” You closed your eyes, keeping them tightly shut, and braced yourself for the pain. Daemon tsked, his warm palm caressing your bottom.

“Hells, you have been deprived.” He pulled your shift down, covering you.

“I do not understand.” You frowned, looking at him over your shoulder, still on your hands and knees. “This is right, I know. I have seen animals do it.” Your tone was of absolute confidence, petulant, even. To you, it was one of the facts of life. The sky was blue, the sun rose in the west, and fucking was done on one’s hands and knees, with the man behind you. It cracked Daemon out. He snorted, hands still busy fixing your shift. It soon turned into a full-blown belly laugh, at your icy glare.

“Poor little wife, your previous lovers have done you wrong.” He palmed at your ass. You hated how the warmth of his palms made you shiver. Good gods, how was he so warm, barefoot as he was and in only a linen shirt? You wanted to kick at him, at the offense of your virtue, perhaps make an icy comment, but you were frozen in shame. “Unless…” Daemon’s hands moved to your stomach, urging you to get up on your knees. He pressed a kiss to your exposed nape when you did, as if rewarding you. Stubbornly, you tried to escape his grip, but he only hugged you tighter. “Oh, what a treat you are… The gift that keeps on giving, zoklītsos.”

“Shut up and get it over with.”

“Don’t be like that, little wife.” He kissed your jaw, tenderly, and when you moved your face away from him, Daemon adapted and started kissing a path down your exposed neck. “You wouldn’t like that, sweet innocent virgin you are. I would tear you apart, and that's no fun.”

“Oh, by the…” You muttered, exasperated. You tried telling yourself that the red of your cheeks was out of rage and not embarrassment. Used as you were at being the smartest one in the room, you deeply disliked how out of your depth you were here. It was not your fault, being uneducated on these matters. Orphaned when you were a lady just flowered, there had been no time for anything else but caring for your siblings. “Why must every woman you meet burn for you?”

“Because I am the blood of the dragon. Heat is in my veins.” He mouthed at your shoulder, this time. His kisses felt like a trail of fire down your body. It was… Waking feelings you didn’t wish to have. Nipples pebbling, hairs standing up, pleasant shivers and all. You breathed in and out, trying to control yourself. Daemon pushed the sleeve of your shift down. “My proper little wife. My ice queen. You will melt, in the end.” He kissed back up and towards your ear, whispering, cruelly. “They all do.”

Your breath hitched. A slip. The first of the night. You could feel Daemon’s smirk against your skin.

“Do you really want to find out how the fire in your veins meets the ice in mine?” You remarked, coldly. It was an attempt at projecting a bravery you did not feel. Bravado. Nothing more. And Daemon could tell.

“Fire can melt ice.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on your throat. With the way he held you, curling and uncurling around you, Daemon reminded you more of a snake than a dragon. You felt as if you were in the grip of a boa, constricting around you, robbing you from your air, leaving you breathless. It was wrong, being so excited at being the sole focus of such a predator. But heat was pooling between your legs, you were getting embarrassingly slick.

“Ice can put out a fire.” You warned, one of your hands going to his silver locks and tugging. You got exactly the opposite reaction of what you wanted. Daemon’s eyes closed, expression turning into a delightful mix of pleasure and pain.

“Only a fool would meet your ice head on.” He kissed your sternum. You remained as still as a sculpture. He tugged at the sleeves, until they gave. There went the dornish shift, ruined forever. You felt a distant rage at having wasted so much gold on it for him to rip it apart. Daemon drank the sight of your exposed chest eagerly, seemingly entranced. You tried covering yourself, but he grabbed at your wrists.

“I think not, Lady Wife.” Then, very tenderly, he pressed kisses to the top of your breasts. You whined, low in your throat. It felt good, and he had no right, no right at all, to get your body to betray you like this. “You see… A tiny flame, if constant, can begin…” Daemon kissed lower, encircling your areola, purple eyes gleaming with mischief. “To melt your ice.” And with that, he took your nipple into his mouth, making you let out a little scream. You squirmed, feeling more wetness gather between your thighs. If you wanted to keep your dignity, you had to get away from him. But Daemon’s grip wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried.

“No… I… Husband… Please. Please.” You begged, shame so deep you were nearly in tears. How it was that easy for him to take you apart, you didn’t know. Despite your pleas, his tongue circled your nipple, his lips making nearly a vacuum around it. His hand came up to pinch at your other nipple, warning. “I don’t want this, please. Just… Just…” But whatever you were saying got lost into your moans, until you were unable to know if you were asking him to stop the sweet torture or give you more of it.

When your tears started to fall in earnest, Daemon let go of your breast with a nearly obscene slurp.

“What is it, zoklītsos? You don’t want the attention of your Prince?” You nodded, and he gave you a mocking little coo. It almost made you think he would stop. Almost. If not for his hands, bunching up your shift until you were exposed once again. Under the candlelight, your cunt glistened with how much wetness you had produced. You tried to close your legs, but he kneeled, forcefully keeping them apart with his torso.

“No. I doubt that's the problem.” Daemon rubbed a finger against your entrance, not putting it in, but just pressing. “I think my little ice queen is melting. A big puddle, she is turning into.”

“You think…” You got cut off by a moan. Daemon had found your pearl, and it seemed he knew exactly what to do with it. “Yourself so smart. Smug…” He pushed a finger inside you, making you yelp, and effectively unable to finish your sentence.

“If you still have coherent thoughts…” He pulled away from you, taking his shirt off. Your eyes immediately were pulled, as if by magnet, to his chest. He had a warrior’s body, muscles all functional. Deliciously broad shoulders, toned stomach with the slightest hint of definition, yet still slender in the way most Targaryens were. Closer to gods, indeed. He bent down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, making you squirm.

“Lord Husband…” You warned, noticing how his kisses started to approach your privates.

“Lady Wife.” Daemon repeated, with a mocking tone. Then, he curiously pressed a finger against your button. This time, your hips bucked, and you were unable to quiet the moan that slipped from your parted lips. “Such a pretty cunt you have.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Oh, but where is the fun in that, zoklītsos?” He spread you apart, as if opening up the petals of a flower, gentle but so casual. “If I wanted a quick fuck, I would have taken one of your servants, or found myself a whore.” Daemon leaned down and licked a strip over your cunt. In your haste to muffle a scream, you brought one of your hands to your mouth and bit down on your palm until you tasted blood. It was the oddest feeling, a line of scorching hot electricity on your exposed sex. “I intend to enjoy you. As often as I can. That’s why I accepted marrying you.”

“I don’t… I….” You muttered, but you weren’t really opposing him anymore. It was impossible to think about anything apart from what he was doing, of how his heat and wanton ways were starting to warm your blood too. Daemon kept licking at you, making your hips twitch. He was entirely ignoring your pleas, apparently finding great pleasure in the way he took you apart.

You felt like you were burning up, as if something that had been long asleep in you had started to be awakened. Long hidden and forgotten desires that were making themselves known. You found yourself looking down, mesmerized by the sight of the blond shock of hair between your parted thighs and how it bobbed up and down with each eager lick he took. Your hand reached down, tangling in Daemon’s hair, and it was then, you got pulled over the edge.

Daemon would later say it had been the way he had groaned against your pearl, what had made your thighs quiver and tummy tense, an impossible amount of wetness dripping down your thighs. You would say, if asked, it had been the way his purple eyes met yours, mouth still busy at devouring your cunt and face twisted into the most smug and deviant expression you had ever seen. Whatever it was, it pleased him greatly.

“I knew you had it in you. You weren’t cold.” Daemon whispered against your skin, kissing a path towards your mouth. He was unhurried, dedicating lavish kisses to your hipbone, moving to mouth along your belly button, gnawing hungrily at your ribs. Under him, your body went lax and pliant, spent with the first climax you had experienced under his careful touches. “You just needed a dragon to warm you up.” He licked at the sweat collecting in the hollow of your throat, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips.

This time, you answered. You took his lower lip between yours, playfully. You could taste and smell yourself on him, and it was more alluring than what you had ever thought.

“Good.” He said, pulling back. He started to undo his breeches, and you felt panic grip at you some more. This was it. You had to fulfill your end of the deal with him, let him take you. As if he could feel your nerves, Daemon rubbed your thigh, affectionate. “Do not fret, zoklītsos. You will enjoy this, too.”

“It is meant to hurt.” You answered him, pouting. He tapped at your lower lip, gently.

“Put that away, before I have to bite it.” Daemon took out his cock and rubbed it up and down your folds, gathering the wetness. Despite your fears, a wave of desire overtook you. His fingers had felt good, so had his tongue. You wondered if this, too, could be pleasurable. Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many bastards being born in Westeros, right? But you were supposed to bleed. Bleeding was not pleasant, ever.

“I…” You grabbed at one of his hands, holding on for dear life. He may not have been your choice of husband, but he had vowed to protect you under his gods, standing in the sand and mixing your blood with him. Daemon took his valyrian vows seriously. You were desperate for any scraps of reassurance he was willing to give, even if in normal circumstances you would have rather died than be helped by him.

“It won’t hurt.” Daemon said, kissing your forehead. You looked up at him, eyes wide in fear. He squeezed your hand and lined himself up. You felt the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and wondered what it looked like. It felt blunt, and it was very warm. “I will do it on one thrust, like ripping a bandage off. You probably don’t have your maidenhead, with how fond you are of riding. And if you do, you are more than wet enough.”

“Lady Manderly said it hurt her, the first time.” You pouted again, and this time, he did good on his promise. He leaned down and kissed you, biting at your lower lip playfully.

“She has a fool for a husband.” Daemon muttered, kissing your ear. You shivered, nearly mewling. You weren’t aware of how sensitive you were there. “Trust me on this. I know more about it.”

“Taken many maidenheads?” You remarked, with a hint of a teasing smile on your lips.

“Jealous, ice queen?” Daemon licked a strip down the base of your neck towards your jaw. “You will have to admit you know little of the topic.”

“I would say I know plenty.” You answered, glowering, just as he thrust inside of you, seemingly tired of the conversation. At the sudden feeling of fullness, you yelped. But there was no pain, as he had promised. Only an odd feeling of being stretched and filled to the brim, and a slight discomfort. “Rude.”

Daemon smirked. He stayed still, letting you time to adjust. You took a deep breath, and shifted to rest your weight on your elbows, to take a curious look at where you were joined. To your disappointment, you could only see a cloud of light hair, mixing with yours, hips impossibly close.

“Did it hurt?” Daemon flicked at your pearl, absent-mindedly. He groaned when that made your walls tighten around him.

You glared.

“No.”

“You silly girl.” He laughed, starting to thrust. The friction felt good immediately, and you moaned, grabbing at his shoulders. “And you thought fucking could only be done on your hands and knees.”

You didn’t answer, choosing instead to cling to him, mouth falling open in moans you were unable to keep quiet anymore.

“Fucking is a pleasure.” Daemon insisted, pinching at one of your nipples, You whined. He could be telling you the secrets of the realm, and you wouldn’t care. “And I will teach you all about it.” He grunted in your ear.

You were too gone to care about his smugness. Your heels dug into his back, pulling him closer and closer. You met him thrust by thrust, scratching at his back until your nails were bloody. Daemon kissed you and tugged at your hair, desperate to claim you. You could hear his silent laughter, feel his mocking smile against your skin. He had finally gotten what he wanted, a reaction out of you. It could not be faked, this pure, raw emotion. Soon, his fingers found their way to your button, making you whine and squirm. It was too much for your poor, abused body. You screamed his name as you reached your second peak of the night.

Daemon thrust several more times, practically vibrating with smugness. He grabbed at your body, fingers digging in the flesh, surely bruising your hips. His mouth was slightly parted, and something stirred in you at seeing him so raw. Daemon had been right, you realized. Many moons before, he had said bodies spoke and were honest in ways their owners were not. And so, you let yours speak, tugging at his hair, sucking bruises in his pale neck. Perhaps there was something there, in the way he held you closer, shuddering and spilling himself with a muffled cry. Something that mere lust couldn't explain.

You both laid there, panting. Daemon looked down at you, and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face.

“I think, Lady Wife, that the coldness of the North might just be bearable.”

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, angst, crying, some violence, mentions of injury

A/N: i’m sorry this took so long to write😭please forgive me

“Get back!” 

Luke’s sword was pointed directly at the Cyclop’s chest. “Threaten my girl again, and you’ll wish you never left Tartarus.”

You stood next to him, your hands curling around your weapon’s hilt tightly. You were exhausted, but you knew you couldn’t let your guard down. If you did, you would be ripped to pieces.

You and Luke had only been traveling for three days, but you’d faced at least eight different monsters. You felt completely responsible, as you knew your presence was like a magnet for them. The last time you’d been in the mortal world for this long was before you’d been brought to Camp Half-Blood, and even then, monsters were attacking you at every turn. At least now, you had your powers, an ally, and a weapon to protect you. 

Fortunately, none of the beasts that had come after you and Luke had managed to harm you. 

Yet. 

You still had about three days left before you reached The Garden of Hesperides. 

You pointed one end of your dual-ended sword at the Cyclop. It would’ve been even more intimidating if it hadn’t been wearing a cheesy graphic t-shirt that read “Live, Laugh, Love”. “One more move and you’ll be dead.”

It laughed. “You cannot kill me, puny demigod. I have lived for thousands of years, and slaughtered hundreds of your kind. And you think your little stick can defeat me?”

Your temper, which was already short due to fatigue, began to spike. 

“Fuck off,” you sneered. “You know, I was considering letting you live if you gave us some supplies for free, but you’ve really pissed me off now.” 

It cackled. “I’m sooooo scared,” it said mockingly. “Little demigod nobody threatening me? I better run and hide.”

You smiled as its ugly eye widened in horror, observing the smoky black wings appearing against your back. “Yeah, you better.” 

“So, Thanatos has sired a demigod child,” it said, trying and failing to hide its fear. “I never expected…well, no matter. You’re just as capable of dying as any other half-blood.”

Within seconds, the Cyclop was nothing but a pile of dust.

Your sword had been thrown right into its throat, sending it back to the depths of the hellish landscape that was Tartarus.

Luke breathed a side of relief, and placed his sword back in its sheath. 

“Well done, angel,” he said, giving you a soft pat on the shoulder. “We need to get out of here, though.”

“Yeah,” you glance around the sketchy gas station, searching for any other looming threats. Fortunately, it seemed to be empty. That made sense, you doubted anyone would stop here unless it was an emergency. You and Luke had only entered it because you were in desperate need of water. When Luke had tried to steal a few bottles, the young Cyclop disguised as an employee had stopped him aggressively. Then, it revealed it’s true form.

It was annoying how easily they could creep up on you.

After stealing a couple snacks for good measure, you and Luke left the building. 

“So, where to next?”

Luke looked towards the horizon, where the sun was beginning to set. “We should find a place to stay for the night. We’ll get on a train tomorrow, which should take us to Nevada. Then, we’ll only have to hitchhike for a couple days.”

He took your hand, and you began walking along the side of the road. As annoying it was to have to walk so far, it was peaceful in a way. It had given you and Luke time to further explore your dynamic as a couple.

You recognized that you had gotten…softer. You were still strong-willed, strategic, and powerful. But when you were with Luke, you naturally acted sweeter. And he brought out that side, simply by being a loving boyfriend.

You could let your guard down and be vulnerable, knowing that he would accept that side of you.

You had also come to realize that you enjoyed letting him take the lead once and awhile. Of course, you always had a say in everything you did with him. But it felt good to be cared for, to be looked after once and awhile. 

Because of the constant looming threat of danger, Luke’s protectiveness had increased tenfold. You suspected this was because of his past experiences with being on the run. You didn’t know every detail, but you knew enough to understand why he was so concerned about you. He didn’t want you to be attacked and meet a fate similar to Thalia’s.

You appreciated his dedication to keeping you safe. It was nice to know that he cared that much about you. 

Sure, it was a little scary when he got that crooked gleam in his eyes while killing your beastly assailants. But you knew he was doing it to protect you. He’d never let anyone or anything lay a finger on you. 

Besides, as ethically questionable as it was, bloodlust looked really fucking good on him.

________________________________________________

“Hey, you alive?”

Your eyes snapped open, Luke’s concerned voice capturing your attention.

After eating two bags of chips and splitting a mediocre ham-and-cheese sandwich with your boyfriend, your body began to succumb to exhaustion. You felt extremely drowsy, and all you wanted was to get a good night’s sleep curled up in Luke’s arms. 

You didn’t have enough money to stay in a hotel room overnight, so you had resorted to setting up camp in the woods. Luke had taught you how to make a makeshift tent with some waterproof blankets he’d brought along. It wasn’t luxurious by any means, but it would suffice. 

Besides, it felt more like home than Cabin 11. 

“Y-Yeah,” you murmured, sitting up slowly. You’d momentarily dozed off, lying on the blanket-covered ground.  “What were you saying?”

Luke sighed. “Never mind.”

You swallowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I-“

“Angel, what have I said about the unnecessary apologies?”

You rolled your eyes. “‘Don’t do it’,” you said, mimicking his voice. You enjoyed teasing him, his face got all flushed and his eyes would become even more piercing than usual.

Luke gave you a playful glare. “You’re such a brat.”

“Am not,” you argued, giving him a cheeky smile. He shook his head, and reached out to pull you into his arms. You settled onto his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered, entangling your fingers with his. “Just the two of us, away from the chaos of camp, unbothered by gods and monsters.” 

“Me too,” Luke agreed, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Sometimes I wish we could run away from camp, so we could live a life of our own.”

“If we did, we’d constantly be attacked by immortals and beasts. Not to mention that we’d have a hard time adjusting to a “normal” lifestyle. We don’t have educations, or a place to stay, or-“

“I know, I know,” Luke cut in. “It’s just a fantasy of mine, that we could put the Olympians and monsters behind us, and be normal teens. I know it’s impossible, but a guy can dream…”

You nodded wordlessly. Luke’s warmth was making your mind shut down, begging for a chance to finally rest. 

“Let’s go to sleep, angel, you look like you’re gonna pass out any second,” he said softly, lifting you off of him and laying down besides you. He pulled a blanket over you, and wrapped a strong arm around your waist. 

Curling a hand around his bicep, you nuzzled into his chest, enjoying the intimate moment. 

“Luke?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Luke smiled gently, pulling you closer to give you a passionate kiss. “I love you, angel. Sweet dreams.”

Within mere moments, you drifted off, dreaming of a world where you and your boyfriend could live in peace. 

.

.

.

Of course, because the gods seemed to hate you both, your blissful night didn’t last very long. 

A lycanthrope that lurked in the woods had tracked your scent, and was now chasing you at full speed. You and Luke had barely had time to grab your supplies and weapons before bolting to avoid being mauled.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” you yelled, looking over your shoulder to see the beast steadily approaching you both.

“Kill it!” Luke yelled back.

“How?”

“Create a diversion! You get above it, and I’ll distract it on the ground so you can cleanly stab it through the neck.”

You tried to avoid using your wings as much as possible. They made you feel monstrous, and they reminded you who your godly parent was, which was something you tried to forget.

But now, it was necessary. You had to use them, or risk letting the lycanthrope kill you and Luke. 

Quickly willing your wings to appear, you launched into the air silently, disappearing into the trees above. You perched on a sturdy branch, watching as Luke kept the lycanthrope occupied. Finally, after a moment, you saw an opportunity to strike.

Your weapon expanded to its full size, which was a little longer than a yard. You swooped down like a hawk catching its prey, and brought one of the blades of your sword down on its neck. Unfortunately, it managed to dodge just enough so that you cut its skin, but didn’t hit anything fatal. 

“Fuck!” you screamed, frustrated that you’d missed your chance to kill it. You swung at it angrily, which only enraged the creature further. 

Luke appeared at your side, raising his blade. “Stay back, or you’ll be cut to pieces,” he warned the lycanthrope. 

It snarled. “You’ll make a fine meal, young demigod. Perhaps by killing you both, I’ll have leftovers by tomorrow morning.”

You stepped in front of Luke, pure hatred coursing through you. Why couldn’t monsters leave you alone for one fucking night? It was completely unfair, especially because it was out of control. It was the god’s fault for creating children that were constantly harassed by vicious beasts. That thought only fueled your anger. 

You lifted your weapon and prepared to strike, but before you could, the lycanthrope lunged. Instinctively, you threw your arms in front of you, even though it wouldn’t do any good against it’s deadly claws and teeth. 

But the fatal bite never came.

When you opened your eyes, you saw a pile of grey ash on the grassy floor, surrounded by all-too-familiar black smoke. 

Had you just killed the lycanthrope without laying a finger on it?

Luke placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face him. “Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice trembling. You couldn’t tell why he was so shaken, but you had a feeling he was afraid. 

Afraid of you.

You really were an abomination.

“Luke…” you whispered, feeling your vision fade to black and your head swirl with dizziness.

Luke had just enough time to catch you before your head hit the ground. 

________________________________________________

You awoke to Luke stroking your hair, pleading quietly for you to come back to him. He had a square of ambrosia in his hand, and a water bottle in the other. You could see that his eyes were bloodshot. He had clearly been crying. 

When you fully opened your eyes, the sunlight streaming through the trees made you wince. 

How long had you been out?

“Oh, thank the Fates,” Luke sighed, helping you sit up slowly. He pressed a few frantic kisses to your forehead, being careful not to hurt you. “I was so fucking worried. Here, drink some water and eat this.” 

He placed the ambrosia square in your hand, and held the bottle of water to your lips. You drank slowly, the water soothing your abnormally dry throat.

After finishing the ambrosia, you managed to ask, “How long was I knocked out?”

Luke bit the inside of his cheek. “Well it’s about 9:00 in the morning now, so I’d say at least nine hours.” 

“Fuck, nine hours?” You couldn’t help but start panicking. You’d wasted at least three hours of travel time, you could end up missing the train!

You tried to scramble to your feet, but as soon as you stood up straight, you felt nauseous. 

“Woah there,” Luke said, coaxing you back to a sitting position. “It’s okay, we’ll figure something else out.”

“It’s not okay,” you argued, burying your face in your hands. “We’re gonna miss the train, and then it’s gonna take even longer to get to-“

“We’ll find a way, I’ll steal a car again if I have to,” Luke said firmly. “It’s not your fault angel, we’ll get there one way or another, I promise.”

“Yes, it literally is my fault,” you snapped. “I passed out because something really fucking scary happened with my powers.”

You felt hot tears spill down your cheeks, your insides clenching painfully. “I can kill just by getting angry enough. I’m a fucking monster.”

“No, no no no,” Luke shook his head. He removed your hands from your faced, and cupped it with his palms gently. “We were being attacked. You would have killed the lycanthrope anyway-“

“But I killed it without even touching it. No normal person can do that.”

“That’s because you’re not normal, angel, you’re extraordinarily powerful.”

“That’s the problem, Luke! I-I think my powers are developing, changing, getting stronger. I need to learn to control and understand them before someone innocent gets hurt.”

“Angel, please listen to me,” your boyfriend said, a loving look in his eyes. “Yes, you should learn how your new ability work and the extent of its power. But having it does not make you monstrous. It isn’t your fault that your father is who he is. Forget about him, he can go fuck himself. You can use this newfound power for whatever you want, or you can try to never use it again. It’s completely in your control. And no matter what you decide, I will always love you, and I’ll always be on your side. Understand?”

You sobbed, the tears flowing faster. But they weren’t from sadness or anger anymore, they were tears of happiness and relief.

“Thank you,” you whispered, sniffling quietly.

Luke brushed away the tears on your cheeks with his thumbs, giving you a warm smile. “What for?”

“For not being afraid and running away. For believing that who my godly parent is doesn’t matter. For believing that I’m still worthy of love, even though I’m a direct descendent of death.”

He enveloped you in a hug, his right hand resting on the back of your head. You clung to him, his mere presence soothing your worries. 

“Deadly or not, you’re my girl. My angel. As I said, I’ll always be by your side. Not even the gods could pry me away from you.”

You grabbed the collar of Luke’s shirt gently, and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Gods, his lips were so addicting, it was almost as intoxicating as basilisk venom. You would kiss him for the rest of time if you could. 

When you finally pulled away, you felt a lot better. Luke brushed your hair out of your eyes and stood up, offering a hand to you to help you up as well.

“I’ll help you figure out your new power,” Luke promised. “When we have time, you can practice on small plants and trees and stuff like that.  See exactly how it functions and just how much it takes out of you. Once you get the hang of it, I’m sure it’ll be less draining.” 

You nodded, gripping his hand firmly. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.” 

Luke gave you one last peck on the lips before picking up both of your backpacks and slinging them over his shoulder. “Shall we get going then? I think we can make the train if we hurry. If you get too tired, I’ll carry you.” 

You laughed quietly, leaning against his arm as you headed towards the edge of the woods to return to the city. 

“You’re impossibly sweet, you know that?”

“Only for you, angel. Only for you.” 

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship, @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!!

The next chapter will include more intense battles against monsters, as well as the reader discovering just how lethal her new power is…There will also be some fluff because I love writing cute moments lol

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

[bestworstcase]

Fingers crossed on the 'Yang's dad reconsiders about her' thing, mainly 'cuz it seems like an effortless failure mode for their particular dynamic (and one she's super likely to keep internalizing) would be 'huh, guess you're finally using the ol' noggin for more than headbutts, proud of ya sport'. And that's IF both parties aren't too swept up (or unalived in Taiyang's case) by Events for such fine-tuned cognitive script-flipping. Plus, 'we all pedestalized Ruby into a breakdown' does strike me as a higher-priority family crisis if there is any breathing room.

i’m not sure how much i buy the reading that yang internalizes what tai tells her about herself, in all honesty, ’cause like

everything tai says is a generalization from her vytal tournament fights, which:

team rwby won on the strength of their superior tactics and teamwork

yang fired burn because those two were being assholes after her teammate got (possibly, as far as yang knew) seriously injured, then used the power her semblance gave her to take control of the battlefield and turn her opponents’ advantages against them; she wins by applying her strength very tactically.

yang and mercury are very evenly matched, the whole fight is a nail-biter, and yang uses burn to tank mercury’s big finisher, then wins because he assumes he’s won before the match is called. (<- which is merc’s plan, but tai didn’t know that when he formed these impressions.)

tai’s takeaway is:

burn is “basically a temper tantrum”

yang relies on it because she’s “predictable, and stubborn, and maybe a little bone-headed”

yang uses her semblance to make herself strong so she can brute force her way through problems.

except that doesn’t line up with what yang does in either of the fights where she uses her semblance! in the 2v2, she’s angry and she uses that anger to juice her semblance, but she’s not lashing out or blowing things up at random, she’s disrupting the terrain so her roller-blading opponent can’t maneuver; in the 1v1, her use of burn is defensive—she activates it to strengthen herself enough to outlast a volley she couldn’t dodge or otherwise avoid, and she stays focused.

yang, of course, knows this. she’s the one who was in her head when she made the decision to fire her semblance in those fights. she pushes back on the idea that burn is any different from any other semblance, but she’s also able to filter out tai’s specific bias against her semblance to extract some actually good advice, specifically “make sure you’re not getting yourself stuck in a rut, think outside the box.”

which is what we see her doing with burn after v4; she uses her semblance more, in more varied ways. she completely ignores the advice tai gave her to stop “relying” on her semblance because she knows she hasn’t ever been someone who thinks raw strength is the only thing that matters in a fight.

and then when adam taunts her, he doesn’t make jabs about her strength—he says “do you think you’re faster than you were at beacon?”—because he knows, and yang knows, that the reason yang lost her arm is she underestimated how fast he could strike. strength had fuck all to do with it; he hit her before she could reach him.

the thing about that is… sword. fists. adam will always be able to hit yang before yang gets close enough to hit him back, not because he’s a better fighter or faster or stronger but simply because his weapon gives him way more reach. yang is faster than she was at beacon, but is she fast enough to eliminate his mechanical advantage?

adam doesn’t think so. yang doesn’t either. so she doesn’t try—she stands her ground and lets adam come at HER, because she’s been feeling out his semblance the whole fight and she’s confident she can catch his blade. this is why she tells him she’s “smarter;” adam expects a repeat of their last confrontation whereas yang uses what she knows about him to trick him into overextending.

his advantage is superior range, which yang isn’t fast enough to overcome. (sword. fists.) her advantage is strength. being smart, in this case, means using her strength instead of letting adam sting her into a contest of speed she knows she can’t win.

yang is a very agile, precise fighter who’s smart enough to know when to plant her feet and use her strength. she took a risk that she could catch that sword, but 1. that was really her best option, and 2. she spent the whole fight prior testing his limits and her own to prepare herself as much as possible. and in reverse, there have been times—like at haven—where yang decided speed was the most important thing and took the risk of literally disarming herself to get down to the vault as fast as possible.

did she really internalize that she’s a dum-dum who tries to hulk smash her way through every problem, or did she go “well i’m not going to stop using my semblance because that’s bullshit, but maybe i can get more out of it than i have been,” cue experimenting with things like different intensities.

i do think—if there’s a moment of reevaluation from tai—it’ll probably incited by blake or yang or ruby? because, returning to the salem comparison: salem understands who cinder is but doesn’t know what cinder really wants, so when cinder defies her she is able to immediately grasp why. whereas tai generally knows what yang wants (protect her sister, find her mother) but doesn’t understand who she is, so when he tries to explain why she does something he’s likely to be wrong every time. “you’ve fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want, and here i am holding you back” vs “your semblance is a temper tantrum and you’re a little boneheaded”—salem gets cinder whereas tai probably needs to be told he doesn’t get yang.

[mirrorpriest]

Creator Reader dropped into Mondstadt

[the description of mondstadt’s wilderness doesn’t fit what’s in game but shhh i’m working from imagination here, POV also gets a little fucky in here bc i started with key scenes i wanted to hit in the story and then started writing for reader immersion]

The waterfall does little to wash away the buildup of oil and grime in your hair, hardly budging the dirt caked to your skin. It’s so different from the warm showers and fragrant soaps you are used to. The cool of the water at least feels good in your mouth, washing down the berries you had been desperately scavenging for the last few days. They were sweet and sour at first, a refreshing treat when you could find them, but the more you ate the more upset your stomach became. You can hardly bear the thought of another handful, but you haven’t seen another person in so long. Only the occasional white bird or wild boar kept you company. You are left to wonder how far from civilization you are. Will anyone find you before you waste away?

Perhaps it’s fortunate, then, that you will die in such a beautiful place. You had never taken the chance to appreciate nature so thoroughly, but the weather in this strange land is cool and temperate, the breeze always carrying the scent of something fresh and light you can’t quite place your finger on. Your head is clear, for once, of any trivial worries like catching the train or when your next shift will be; how much money you’ll be able to make or who at the drug store finds you unattractive. But that’s only because now you are worried about what you’ll catch from drinking the pond water, when you’ll be able to find your next meal, if you’ll ever see your loved ones again. What you wouldn’t give to be able to listen to your mother retell the same stories from her youth you’ve heard a million times. One day, you had simply woken up here. And, perhaps one day, sooner than you would hope, you will fall asleep here for the last time.

So lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the creatures watching you from the trees until their bodies break through the brush, dark and furry against the green, green foliage. They emerge as one, ambling forward with graceless movements. Your eyes, once upturned to the rushing water, cautiously watch them approach. They stand on two legs, but look nothing like any person you’ve ever seen. Like any beast you’ve ever seen. Your arms fold into your chest, body shrinking at their attention. If not for the matching masks upon their faces, they would be staring unabashedly.

But they are the first sentient beings with the ability to help that you have seen in days, the first thing to find you amidst the thick of the forest, and you smell the burn of a campfire on their fur and tattered clothes as they draw closer. They don’t shy away as you move through the water, waiting at the water’s edge to meet you. The closest one, indistinguishable from the others, steps closer on clawed feet that distort under the clear water. The closer you move, the more monstrous their features seem. Fur covering their bodies, clawed fingers, pointed ears that fold back as you approach, but they make no move to attack. Heads folded down solemnly.

You reach out a cautious hand, finger outstretched to trace the paint across this strange creature’s mask. It stays eerily still, leaning forward for your touch, when the silence is broken by a loud, guttural cry. The furry creatures spring into action, scrambling to turn towards the distant cry, when a large sword comes from the brush and knocks them all back into the water. You startle into the pond, stumbling backwards into the waist-deep water.

There is the swing of metal and the strange cries of the masked creatures, a man in black knocking them all back with little effort. This man speaks in a language you don’t recognize, but you can tell his tone is stern and unyielding. It’s so sudden in the calm of the forest, the first voice you’ve heard in so long, that it rings in your ears. The creatures hardly have the chance to fight back, some raising flimsy, hand-crafted weapons, before their bodies are scattered along the ground. The loud clomping of a heavy creature comes up behind the man, you turn away from the carnage then. The sound of a heavy body taking blows and disgruntled screaming follows, it forces your hands up to cover your ears. Suddenly you long for the worry of finding berries and cleaning away dirt over the worry of who will be merciful towards you in the end. You can’t tell which creature you were close to touching, now among the indistinguishable bodies that litter the bank of the pond. The area falls silent once again. The strange man, who felled the beasts you hadn’t even the chance to meet, stands among the falling clouds of dirt, his brow pinched and mouth open around his heaving breath. His eyes watch you like a hawk, searching your face for… Something. You feel yourself, once again, shrink away at his gaze. His chest is broad, rising and falling in great puffs, and his large hands still clasp the claymore in their grip.

He speaks words you don’t understand, his great weapon vanishing in a shudder of light, as he takes a tentative step closer to you. He’s remarkably pale, made even moreso against the dark clothing he wears. But you know you have no choice but to meet this man halfway, reaching out a hand to be pulled from the water.

To see the water cascading down your skin, glimmering like the brightest gem. Shining and unblemished, the sun reflecting all around you in a way he hadn’t ever allowed himself to imagine. It would be blasphemy to imagine your skin so bare. Flesh like smooth, tumbled stone. This red-haired stranger coaxes for you, a hand reaching towards you, upturned. Contrary to the brutish way he dealt with those strange creatures, he gently wades into the water to take your hand, swinging his long coat around your shoulders. Up close you can see the flush across his cheeks that rivals the red of his hair. You allow this man to lead you from the water up onto the bank so you can retrieve your sullied clothes. You try to ask him where you are, but, again, his brow pinches: this time in confusion. He mutters something low to himself, instead offering his elbow to you. At least this gesture you understand.

You don’t know how long he leads you, keeping his pace measured to your own, before the tree line breaks and you come upon what looks like a farm. The dense forest gives way to grapevines stretching as far as you can see, all carefully line up like dominos, bursting with bright red fruits that make your stomach curl uncomfortably. You’re so desperately hungry for something other than fruit, but above that you are so desperately hungry. You realize what a privilege it is to be picky about what you have to put in your mouth.

The red-haired stranger allows you time to marvel over the rows of grapes, gently coaxing you towards the large manor in the whole big center of it all. It’s only when you’ve moved closer to the large estate that you realize there are other people here, they mill around comfortably and content to live a slow life of vineyard labor. Completely unaware and unknowing to a stranger almost starving to death in the forest they reside.

There are many young women rushing around when the man leads you up the manor steps, but they all stop to dutifully bow their heads at him. They speak the same strange language, quickly snapping to attention when their eyes fall on you. Suddenly you realize how utterly drowned and dirty you look among these perfectly prim maids with their pressed white aprons. You bashfully lower your gaze to avoid their eyes, missing the recognition and, ultimately, the reverence there. The man speaks in a stern voice, almost startling you with how firm his voice suddenly is, gesturing towards a maid who stands above the rest. She is lovely and pleasant, curled brown hair and a practiced smile on her lips. She nods at his words, motioning to take your arm from around his. You sheepishly allow her to lead you into the large manor, fingers folded around the clean black sleeve of her uniform like a child.

She carefully and slowly leads you through the manor and up the steps, unaware of the overstimulated rush to your brain as you try to grasp all that you are seeing and smelling and hearing. Your attention tries to focus entirely on the satisfying click of her polished heels, your aching feet climbing step by step with her’s to a certain door among all the others. Behind it is a lavish bedroom, a bed so tempting you almost move to collapse on it. She cooes soothingly to you, words you don’t recognize but can distinguish as motherly reassurance. You decide to trust her, if only because her brown eyes are warm and clear.

This maid leads you to the bath of the lavish room, instantly removing her arm from your grasp to bustle about. You don’t recognize any of the concoctions or bottles she grasps, focus wandering to your own disheveled appearance in the mirror, until she turns the tap of the large bathtub and there’s a rush of water that quickly steams the glass. It makes your heart leap happily against your ribs, even if you are still quite embarrassed, to think you will finally be getting a warm wash after so long. So ashamed of your own dirty appearance you can’t bring yourself to mind as she helps you remove your soiled clothing, your own skin cleaner than the outfit you wear.

Her hand is steady as she helps you into the bath, lowering you into the steaming water that quickly reddens your skin. But your muscles ache for relief, your sense of self aches for cleanliness. You expect her to leave, but the diligent maid sets to work immediately as you relax. She kneels upon the fluffy cushion beside the bathtub to pour a creamy, fragrant mixture into her palm, thoroughly warming it with her hands before smoothing it along your scalp. She carefully works the mixture and her fingertips through your hairline, massaging the muscles at the base of your head and working up. She presses with measured strength, nails wearing away the build up of skin and sebum from your follicles. You allow your head to loll back into her reliable hands, comforted into complacency.

Adelinde washes at your scalp with a firm touch, the suds dribbling down your strands to fall into the bath water. Her attention is drawn by the slight hairs trailing from the base of your hairline and disappearing down the nape of your unblemished neck, soft and intimate. Her fingers move diligently in a practiced and familiar way, as a carpenter would refine his millionth wooden chair, clearing away all the oil and dirt that had gotten trapped along your scalp and behind your ears. The weight of trying to survive for days in the woods comes crashing down, worked away by this caring maid and her sure hands. Her touch is lighter than ever with you, careful to not tug or nails to scrape along your skin. You are, after all, especially precious company. She brings a pitcher of clear water up to rinse away the soap, her other hand gently tipping back your forehead to avoid your eyes. When she’s satisfied you’re clean, Adelinde works a thicker mixture into your hair, trailing her hands down to the ends where she wicks them of excess water. The conditioner smooths down all the roughness of the accumulated days, soothing your stressed strands back into their natural position.

You don’t notice the other two maids that have arrived until Adelinde helps you out of the tub, standing at the ready for orders to tend to you. One of them has long dark locks held appropriately back by her uniform headpiece. The other is distinguishable by the gemstone on her collar, it shines unnaturally bright. So obvious among the standard outfit of all the maids you’ve seen. Adelinde turns her head just the slightest away from you to address one of the young ladies, who immediately springs away to somewhere past the bathroom door. The other moves around you as Adelinde leads you to sit on the stool before the bathroom mirror, this young lady twitching hesitantly and unsure under the careful watch of the head maid. This new maid seems unsure whether she’s allowed to touch you, hands folded carefully upon her apron. If only you had the means to reassure her.

The maid with the gemstone collar weaves her fingers through your hair, a powerful breeze moved by her fingers and caressing each strand. She moves delicately, careful not to tug too harshly on your scalp. The smell of fresh dandelions and open fields moved by her very will. You want to startle away, look for whatever blowdryer you’re sure she has to be using, but your body still aches and hunger claws away your stomach and reason. You tilt your head back into her touch, the fidgeting of her nervous fingers soothed at your pleased hum.

It's an hour, maybe two, before your hair is dry. The minutes weave together as you blink back sleep, eyelids heavy under the gentle, warm breeze that blows across the skin of your scalp and neck. When you glance in the mirror to look back at the young maid, she catches your eye and gives you a bashful smile, power from her fingers petering out until the breeze has left nothing but a tingle across your nerves. Only when Adelinde orders the maid away and moves to take your hand do you remember she's there.

She leads you, careful and sure, back into the bedroom where you assume you'll finally get some rest, but instead you find clothes laid across the bed. The idea of getting dressed and doing anything else already makes your aching muscles feel weary, but you don't bother to protest lest their hospitality withers away. Not that she would be able to understand you, anyway. You should feel bashful as she dresses you, would if the situation were different, but this maid's touch feels sterile. Like she's dressing a marble statue instead of your body. All your humanity swept away with the dirty water. There's a gentleness to her touch, barely grazing her knuckles across your skin as she buttons the pressed shirt, that borders on cautious. The careful way these maids, even the strange man, have handled you almost puts you on edge. You've never been cared for so tenderly even by those that love you. Surely... Surely, this isn't just because you're a guest. You wish you had the means to ask why they are acting so attentively.

When you step out into the hall together a heavenly scent floods your nose, an impatient rumble coming from your stomach. You can't hurry down the stairs fast enough, trying to restrain yourself to the polite pace Adelinde takes. You're led into a lavish dining room, perfectly fit and furnished for the stately manor, where the red-haired man waits. He's standing, at attention the moment he sees you enter, waiting politely for you to take your seat. As if you were a most important guest. You shuffle on your feet, in borrowed clothes and covered in borrowed scents bestowed by his borrowed maids, hastily sitting when the waiting butler pulls out your seat.

Now... Well, now you wish you hadn't sat down. You are served by the polite and practiced staff, while the red-haired man watches you with what you feel to be an undeserved respect. Plates are set before the both of you, filled to the brim with the most beautiful food you've ever seen. A generosity of choices, from buttered vegetables to succulent meats. You've never seen food so worthy of being called art. Though you two can't converse, he seems content to simply watch you. It makes you slow your eating despite the painful twist of hunger in your stomach, sitting up straighter to appear more worthy of such effort. This man has been so strange since he first laid eyes on you.

You hope he's just altruistically generous when it comes to people in crisis, but you can't help feeling there's something you're missing.

[garrothfanpage]

A/N: this is my first fic ever, and I haven’t written a story since I was 13 so please bear with me 💀

I couldn’t really come up with a good plan on how to start this so it’s probably gonna be a little janky at first but I’m mostly just doing this for fun anyway so here goes!

Hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings: Fem!reader, bad grammar, amnesia trope, sloooooow burn

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Garroth x Reader fic

Prologue:

“Try again.”

“Garroth, it’s been ten years and this has only worked once…”

“I’m not giving up.”

“Well I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve got better things to remember. I’m happy with now, I don’t need those memories back.”

“Do you really mean that, or are you just trying to keep from being a burden?”

“Garroth, I……”

“Just tell me what you remember.”

A huff escapes me, closing my eyes I allow the sound of the waves to ground me, and attempt to think back….back to the woods, back to the woman, the fighting, meeting Zenix, and obviously Garroth… a part of me doesn’t want to know. There’s something big hiding in my mind, I can feel it.. like a serpent waiting to strike. I’m happy, sure there are a few things I’d maybe like to be different but nothing as drastic as I know this would be. Besides, I know who I am now, I don’t want to have to wrestle with who I was.

“The woman. Start with her.”

“Garroth, we’ve been-“

“Just humor me..please”

The huff is definitely more aggressive this time but hearing Garroth chuckle almost made the annoyance worth it. “All I remember is that we were close. She was wise. She basically raised me. She told me I’d make my father proud…and then she was gone.”

“Then what?”

“Then there was fighting, or something..I’m not sure. But probably fighting.” That chuckle again.. “I passed out and then woke up to your stupid helmet staring down at me, and Zenix having a temper tantrum.”

Garroth stays quiet.

“That’s all I remember. No new details this time I promise.”

“….”

“…we were out picking berries. I remember that. But it doesn’t really seem too important” I failed to mention that I remembered the woman’s face, and the people I saw chasing after Zenix. It’s not gonna make a difference.. I think.

This time the huff comes from Garroth. “Do you remember after that?”

A smirk forced its way onto my face and glanced at the sand beneath me. “You turned into a worry wart and insisted of rescuing two strays out of the woods cause you have a hero complex?”

“I do not have a hero complex”

“You’re literally sitting here trying to interrogate my old memories out of me cause you think it’ll help”

He stands up and begins to brush the sand off his cape, still looking down at me. I can feel his annoyed glare despite the helm. “I’m trying to help you. You always seem to forget that when I brought you back you practically begged me to help you remember.”

“Ten years ago.. Garroth, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me but I’m tired” I stand and stare up at him. “If I was going to remember I would have by now. I just wanna focus on living from here on out. Please. I promise I’ve given it a lot of thought and I think this is for the best.”

I can almost see his shoulders sag for a moment. He hates giving up. I hate seeing him think he’s let me down.. I place a hand on his forearm and stare into what I can only assume are his eyes. “It’s not your fault. You’ve done everything you can, but it’s time to move on. It’s not like I’m some lost princess, I don’t need to know where I came from to know who I am. Please.” I gently stick out my pinky.

He remains quiet, save for the gentle creaks of his armor as he wraps his pinky around mine, followed by a mildly offended “I don’t have a hero complex.”

I chuckle and begin to walk back to the guard tower where Dale and Zenix are no doubt NOT waiting for us with too much concern. I’m only a stand in guard, available when someone really needs a day off or something (I enjoy being more crafty and artsy than full fledged guard duty would allow for, but I can wield a sword better than anyone in town, other than Garroth) but since Zenix and I basically decided we were siblings, and there isn’t exactly enough houses for everyone in the village, Garroth approved me to stay in one of the spare guard rooms until they needed it for another guard (they haven’t).

The common area was fairly spacious although the kitchen and armory were included in that space. The unusual serenity of the room is cut short by an all too familiar *hic*. Dale is strewn lazily across the couch. “Theeeerrrrreeee you guy*hic*s are..! I was mvaiting…f*hic*or…yyy…” he’s back out before we can even figure out what he was saying.

We make our way up the stairs and stand comfortably at my door as he gives me the rundown of tomorrow’s schedule. “-and Zenix and I will be investigating the entrance-“

“There’s no walls…everywhere is an entrance”

“Would you just-“ he sighs and even tho his smirk isn’t visible, it’s definitely audible. “We’ve gotten reports of suspicious people wandering around. I’ll be taking Zenix with me to investigate. Could you cover his usual patrol?”

My eyes widen “woah woah woah what?! You didn’t tell me about this. What if I already had plans???”

“Well I didn’t say you HAD to…do you have plans??”

“…no not yet…I was gonna ask Donna if she wanted to have a girls day but that was more of a spontaneous thing..”

“You don’t have to.”

“…fine. But you owe me Ro’M-“

“Yes. Yes I do.”

As if second nature he lifts his helmet just enough to kneel down and kiss my knuckles, a sweet little tradition we’ve developed over our years of friendship.

I enter my room and quietly shut the door behind me. ‘Friendship…’ a beautiful word. Its incredible how someone can be willing to go through so much pain just to ensure they don’t loose it. I take a deep breath in an attempt to slow my heart rate before getting ready for bed. This has become my own personal addition to our little tradition.

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A/n: aaaahhhhhh!!! Prologue done!!! Next chapter will be Aphmau’s introduction! We’ll see how that goes lol!! Thank you for reading!!!! Love ya!!! 🫶🫶🫶

[lagoonalake]

pleaseeeee can I get exo ideal type ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

EXO IDEAL TYPE

XIUMIN

Personality: justice, 10 of coins, 3 of swords

He wants someone very reliable and loyal, someone grounded and balanced, no nonsense, someone with whom he can build a family and a secure future with. Well established and stable. Someone who can be a bit cautious at first, a bit cold even, who only opens up to a selected few. Probably he is like this too, and values trust and believes that this is a sign that the person is not playing with him. He wants someone disciplined, fair, kind. He would treat his partner as an equal and values the give and take a lot.  libra, saturn, capricorn, taurus, aquarius

Appearance: 10 of wands, 8 of wands, temperance

Someone athletic, very strong, with a lot of stamina. Even their expression is of someone who has a lot of control over themselves, very disciplined, very active. A more sporty or simple style, flexible body, calm face. Features could be a bit sharp. Lean, muscular. Someone who looks like they have seen a lot in life as well, he needs to see experience and depth in their eyes. aries, mars, capricorn

Turn offs: 4 of swords, 6 of pentacles, knight of cups

People who don’t think long term. Overly kind and giving, a bit naive. Sappy, too emotional or romantic, people who play the victim or who see victims everywhere, the type you’re always gonna hear say “oh poor you ;_;”. People who are not thinking with their brain, people led by their emotions instead of their logic. People who always expect others to save them.  pisces, cancer

SUHO

Personality: 6 of wands, the sun, queen of cups

Someone very proud and dignified, who he would be proud to show off as well. Someone prestigious. Most likely a celebrity. Someone who shines brightly. Very joyful, funny and warm, very open with their emotions and desires. Could like to party quite a lot or have fun. Quite bold, confident and playful, in touch with their inner child. Could be a stage performer. Someone who likes to laugh a lot. Someone who can take charge but also someone who can be very kind and nurturing with him, intuitive, motherly. Someone open with their feelings and emotions, who follow their heart.  leo, cancer, sagittarius

Appearance: 8 of pentacles, 10 of cups, 2 of wands

Maybe someone who looks like him a little. Someone who works hard on their appearance, that he can tell is making an effort. Someone who works out, who is paying attention to the details, a very neat hairstyle for example, and features are very pretty in a detailed sort of way, in this very clean, detailed oriented way that Korea loves. Someone who also gives of a nurturing aura, quite soft. Not too tall. Pale skin. Someone who has a bit of an artistic quality to their style. Expressive and warm, eyes bright with passion.  virgo, cancer, leo

Turn offs: page of swords, the empress, the devil

I think Suho may not trust women too much, especially beautiful women. So he’s a bit turned off by smooth talkers, very beautiful seductive women who are owning their femininity and charm a bit too much for his taste. Manipulative people. People who are a bit too chatty, ask too many questions, are gossipy and nosy. People who have a scattered brain. venus, pluto, gemini

LAY

Personality: 4 of swords, knight of pentacles, 7 of cups

He’s attracted to very chill sort of people, I’m kinda seeing someone who almost seems a bit high, although that’s not it. XD But it’s someone who would be naturally like that, just very easy going, calm, relaxed, who doesn’t stress too much about anything, who is actually quite positive, optimistic, and can see the good things around them. Someone focused on doing their thing, who likes to take their time. Someone who can see all the possibilities in life. Someone who probably could help him ease his stress a bit. Slow kind of energy. Sensual. Creative and with a lot of imagination, most likely an artist. Hippie vibes.  taurus, pisces, jupiter

Appearance: the hierophant, the tower, knight of cups

A traditional asian beauty but at the same time this person needs to stand out enough for him to fall head over heels for them. Someone with a romantic quality, soft features, who doesn’t have to make too much effort to be pretty. Maybe taller than average or looks tall. A sort of fiery, a bit explosive aura. He may prefer a beauty that is a bit more natural like not overly bleached skin or too much plastic surgery. Simple style. taurus, virgo, pisces, scorpio, aries

Turn offs: the sun, the hermit, 2 of swords

It’s a bit specific, but I think it’s about balancing private and public life, between inner self work, a more isolated spiritual life style, and being out there in the world. I think he wants some spirituality in his life but also be able to still live with everyone else and not isolate himself. He wants that balance so he needs someone like that too. Therefore what turns him off is someone who is either too public, or on the opposite end too private. And in general unbalanced personalities, like people who are either too arrogant or too modest, too noisy or too quiet…etc.

BAEKHYUN

Personality: 7 of pentacles, the hanged man, 4 of pentacles

Someone very patient and calm, very stable. Someone with a good sense of timing, who doesn’t rush into things blindly. Quite mature, grounded, almost meditative in a way. A bit possessive. Someone quite even, whose mood doesn't change much, rather quiet. Just very very calm! XD Could be into yoga or things of a more spiritual nature, but especially yoga and meditation. Someone who could introduce him to a more serene lifestyle, maybe outside of the industry, give him a new perspective. A bit of a teacher vibe. Also someone quite good at managing money and the household. Someone who also has built a stable material life for themselves.  taurus, pisces, capricorn, jupiter

Appearance: queen of pentacles, knight of pentacles, knight of wands

Very sensual and comfortable in their own skin. Not shy about revealing some skin. Sexy and sensual. Slow movements and energy, some curves especially around the hips, butt and thighs. Fit and healthy. Could prefer a simpler style, a bit outdoorsy. Not overly dolled up. Could like darker skin tone, people from different ethnicities. Youthful round face with confident expression.  aries, taurus, sagittarius

Turn offs: 5 of swords, the star, the fool

Argumentative people who always want to have the last words, overly critical, nitpicky. People who try to provoke change, I think he likes his stability and doesn’t mind it if his days look alike, but some people need a fresh start all the time, are always focused on the future, what could be improved, changed, are always looking for novelty. He finds it tiring and a bit useless, he prefers to focus on the present moment and enjoy things as they are.  aquarius, gemini, virgo, scorpio

CHEN

Personality: 9 of wands, 3 of cups, 8 of swords

He likes people who are a bit on the defensive or cautious at first, hard to get to know or to approach, possibly because they have been betrayed or wounded in the past, he wants to befriend them first and take care of them. A healing relationship. He has this ability to help people who are a bit hard around the edges to soften and open up. Help them navigate to a calmer, more peaceful, more serene place, and restore their trust in life and relationships. He definitely wants friendship with his partner and for them to know each other well and share a lot of interests and good times. An intimate, softly transformative relationship with genuine interest in each other.  scorpio, aries, pluto, pisces

Appearance: 9 of cups, the empress, judgment

Someone very feminine, who smells good, who looks "fertile". With a beautiful, gentle, warm smile. Someone who also has a certain intensity. Like a ray of sunshine or someone who has this inner light, this bright aura. Beautiful smile, soft skin, very sensual. More traditional beauty. Warm and loving expression. Gold, white, burgundy, pink colors.  taurus, libra, pisces, scorpio

Turn offs: 5 of wands, 3 of swords, king of swords

Competitive people who are always looking for a fight or to dominate others. People who don’t care about other people’s emotions, who are detached and cold, overly logical. People who would be unable to trust him, too distant, never letting their guard down. Cheaters and people who betray his trust, talk behind his back, gossipers. negative aries, gemini, aquarius, saturn

CHANYEOL

Personality: the lovers, ace of pentacles, 2 of pentacles

He wants to be the provider. A more traditional relationship. He’s attracted to someone very partnership oriented, romantic, giving, loving, he wants to do things with his partner, to be able to rely on them and for them to rely on him, he wants to share a lot. Someone who cares about keeping the harmony in the relationship, someone diplomatic, measured, balanced, also someone quite “useful” lol, someone who is always here to help or who is good at finding solutions, it can be for everyday things, little details. Someone good at managing money and quite practical and crafty. libra, virgo

Appearance: 4 of cups, the hanged man, death

More traditional asian beauty, pale skin, long black hair. Round face. Can look quite intense and magnetic, a bit dark, a bit pouty and withdrawn, austere even, or in their little corner. More petite body. Beautiful high quality sophisticated clothes. He likes jewelry. Feminine style. Dresses.  scorpio, capricorn, cancer

Turn offs: knight of swords, 8 of pentacles, the hermit

Someone rude, blunt, impulsive, who never chills, too focused on work, someone who is always negative and never seems to have luck in life, someone who wants to be alone all the time and doesn’t invest in the relationship enough. Someone isolated, unable to adapt to other people around them. Always trying to provoke others. A misfit.  negative scorpio, aquarius, saturn

D.O

Personality: 9 of pentacles, the empress, king of pentacles

Someone stable who has worked hard enough that they can enjoy an abundant and peaceful lifestyle with him. Someone who enjoys the present moment. Definitely a very sensual lover, very physical,who likes to eat, cook, smell flowers, someone who smells good themselves, who enjoys nature, gardening maybe, who likes to focus on their home. A good mother material. Very warm, giving, affectionate. There is just this very luxurious and abundant energy coming from his spread. It’s not necessarily about money, actually he’d like to be the provider most likely and to pamper his partner while they would focus on creating this beautiful, flowery, cozy home. Could be someone who is into home decor as well. Also someone who would like to be stuck with him pretty much all the time. XD taurus, venus, cancer, virgo

Appearance: king of cups, 3 of cups, justice

In addition to all the sensuality that was picked up on in the personality section, he likes someone who is quite magnetic, very deep and beautiful hypnotic eyes especially, sometimes eyes could look a bit fierce and intense, but overall a friendly aura, soft kind smile, a reassuring energy. Symmetrical features, balanced appearance, nothing too extreme, too flashy or gaudy. Blue, black and white colors.  scorpio, pisces, libra

Turn offs: 2 of swords, the fool, page of wands

Immaturity, people who don’t know what they want, who don’t know themselves well yet, people who are gullible, wishy washy, who believe everything they hear, people who have no sense of direction, who are easily influenced by others, who are run by their instincts, people who are too adventurous and always want to explore, cannot settle anywhere.  sagittarius, uranus, cancer, neptune

KAI

Personality: 10 of swords, queen of pentacles, king of pentacles

He is often attracted to wounded souls, people who maybe suffer from anxiety or could be a bit guarded and shy, and can appreciate his trustworthy, protective, patient energy. A humble, dignified partner, service oriented, altruistic and with high morals. We have the king and queen of pentacles here, a rather traditional couple, so he wants someone who is similar to him, very earthy, logical, grounded, practical, mature and who values caution and trust in relationships. Crafty, artistic and creative. A sensual lover, the physical connection is important and he wants to be close to his partner. He wants to build something long lasting and sturdy.  virgo, capricorn, taurus

Appearance: the moon, the hermit, 2 of pentacles

Someone a bit mysterious, dreamy, who looks more reserved. He likes to observe someone at work, working out, or just focused on their task. Someone physically strong, active with a lot of stamina. Calm and quiet. Long hair. Sensual. Can have a stubborn look on their face. Artistic style although nothing too flashy. Dark eyes, earthy colors, brown, green, beige. Balanced and symmetrical features, natural beauty, soft velvety skin. pisces, virgo, taurus, libra

Turn offs: the moon, the wheel of fortune, 8 of wands

Someone vague, changeable, impulsive, someone who has no stability in life, no structure, who changes their mind all the time, who makes hasty decisions and judgments. Someone blunt or loud, noisy. A "tiring" energy. Someone who cannot sit still, is always looking for novelty. Someone is too self involved, and self sabotages or sabotages relationships, doesn’t take it seriously or respect their partner enough to commit. negative pisces, sagittarius, gemini, aquarius, aries

SEHUN

Personality: the lovers, page of wands, 7 of coins

A romantic person who likes to have fun. Someone very loving, playful, adventurous, energetic. A child at heart. Still behind this more youthful facade, someone who is able to be very patient with him. A long lasting relationship where both people are equals. Someone who values harmony, balance, joy, would know how to keep the passion alive and enjoy a lot of activities with him. Probably someone sporty, and/or who has a lot of interest, I could see them go skiing, travel together…etc. Energetic, smiley, very friendly and sociable. Popular. Someone who laughs a lot. Good sense of humor. Someone who appreciates life at the fullest but knows when to stop and enjoy a calmer more quiet moment too. Funny partners in crime kind of vibe.  libra, gemini, sagittarius, taurus

Appearance: knight of cups, page of coins, the hierophant

Someone with a romantic, soft appearance, cute features, smiley. More traditionally beautiful too (well, this group has a pattern XD). Round youthful face, soft skin, kind with animals and children. Higher pitched, warm, pleasant voice. Contagious laugh. A ray of sunshine. The colors blue, green, turquoise. Rosy cheeks. Pretty eyes. Wavy hair. Just very cute overall appearance!  pisces, libra, taurus, gemini

Turn offs: queen of wands, 6 of swords, the sun

A diva, someone bossy and high maintenance who wants to dominate the relationship, make all the decisions, a narcissist who is mostly interested in him because of his fame and wants to show him off. People who always need attention, always need to be in the public eye. People who want to force change on him, transform his life even though he doesn’t want to. People who don’t listen to him and are unwilling to see their own flaws. negative leo, aries, aquarius

[acaaai-t]

resurface, my love

03. clued

[fem! reader x villain! scaramouche]

cw: angst, blood, scaramouche uses a sword, violence, cursing, death threats, bits of scaras past, attempted murder lol

‘The Fatui’

Scaramouche felt his blood run cold at the sight of the two words. The organization he works for was the last thing he wanted you to get involved in.

He scanned through the rest of the contents, hoping that it was an error in your writings. Scaramouche knew it was futile. You were bound to investigate The Fatui eventually. It was just a matter of time.

His heart only further sank when he saw the folder you’ve created, storing almost everything you knew about the Fatui. Which if presented to a Harbinger like him, even they would claim it was a dangerous lot.

Scaramouche looked high and low, searching for anything that might contribute to your disappearance. He dug through your desk— or whatever remains of your desk, yet nothing, nothing, was found.

Not a single clue as to your disappearance. Scaramouche punched the table in a fit of frustration, adding an extra hole to your already broken desk. He hated feeling like this.

Anxious helplessness tangled with his emotions. He bit down on his lips, the bitter taste of blood blooming in his mouth.

Kazuha seemed to sense Scaramouche’s restlessness. Even Tomo felt unease at Scaramouche’s presence, clambering back onto Kazuha and tucking his small form inside his jacket.

“Scaramouche.”

“What?” even he was startled at his sharp tone. “What…” he tried again, in a calmer voice.

“I was going to suggest asking her coworkers, maybe they would know something.”

Scaramouche frowned. Why didn’t he think of that? They were someone you see on a daily basis, if you were to suddenly disappear, they would be the one to notice first.

He got up, brushing the dust stuck on his knees away. Even though Scaramouche would have liked to organized your room back to how he remembered it to be, he figured it would be best not to temper with evidence.

“Let’s go,” there was no trace of emotion in his voice as he walked passed Kazuha and down the stairs.

…

The streets of Inazuma hadn’t changed one bit from how it used to be. It’s been a while since Scaramouche had walked through the markets filled with merchants selling all sorts of goods.

He missed the days where he would hold you in his embrace so gently, as if you were porcelain that would shatter in nothingness with the wrongest move.

Those days are long gone, he bitterly thought to himself.

A frightful yelp drew his attention away. Scaramouche scowled in annoyance. There was a person standing in his way, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“That’s him!” the old man screeched. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to stare. “It’s him! He’s The Balladeer, those crimes that happened in our town is all because of him!”

By now a crowd had gathered to see the unfolding spectacle. Kazuha squeezed his way through the crowd and grabbed Scaramouche’s arm.

“Gotta go, fast.”

Scaramouche didn’t need to be told twice. He shook off Kazuha’s hand and began running after him, but not without the citizens chasing after them with anything they could use to attack.

He scowled again when he felt something— it felt like a potato, hit the back of his head. Kazuha had somehow found his way up to the rooftops, and was now hopping over the gaps, following Scaramouche closely. It seemed that the townspeople was only targeting Scaramouche.

“Fucking bitches…” he muttered, drawing out his weapon from the scabbard. He skidded to a stop and pointed the sword at the crowd.

The mob of people instantly slowed, stumbling onto one another for support.

“Somebody really wants to fucking die,” he mused, the tip of his sword dug into the pavement below. It was an old fashion way to fight, but Scaramouche had long grown use to its constant company.

A tomato flew his way, and Scaramouche, with ease, sliced the vegetable in half with a flick of his wrist. “I’m not here to cause shit here. If I was, all of you,” he pointed at the crowd, nodding. “Will be dead.”

“Scaramouche,” Kazuha’s voice was urgent as his voice trailed down from the roof. “The Tenryo Commission is coming, we need to go.”

“To hell with them,” Scaramouche scoffed. “They’re so easily destroyable. Just a tiny step on them and they crush like a bug. Pathetic seeing them try.”

“You’re— you’re a monster,” a fearful voice cried out. It was the same person who had exposed him as the Balladeer.

“So I’ve heard,” Scaramouche grinned, sheathing his sword.

Those who hadn’t already fled the scene beforehand began to slither away. When the old man had found himself standing alone, he too, wavered and broke, scrambling away as Scaramouche stared him down. His purple eyes glinted with amusement and malice.

“How pitiful,” Scaramouche laughed. “Haven’t even done anything and they all ran.”

What once was the bustling streets of people was now empty, not a single soul in sight. Well, expect for the people dressed in black and purple running towards him.

Scaramouche clicked his tongue in disapproval. He pulled out his gun, aimed, and was about to pull the trigger when Kazuha stopped him, grabbing his arm. The serious look in his eyes told him no. Scaramouche rolled his eyes and set his gun aside.

“Whatever,” he said. “Let’s go before I feel the need to kill them.”

Kazuha dragged him over to an empty alleyway and pressed a finger over his lips, signaling for Scaramouche to stay quiet.

The group of Tenryo Commission members thundered past the two, with nobody noticing the two suspicious shadows crouching in the corner of the alleyway.

When Kazuha had made sure the coast was cleared, he motioned for Scaramouche to follow him. He deadpanned at Kazuha, watching him scale the walls and jump onto the rooftop.

“Hurry,” Kazuha hissed.

There really wasn’t an option for him to choose from.

“Why can’t I just use—” his words were cut off when a gust of wind started swirling under him before lifting him off the ground completely. Scaramouche froze, and didn’t move until he was down on solid ground again.

“There, that’ll get your slow ass moving,” Kazuha said. He threw a smile at Scaramouche and turned around, silently trailing away towards the direction of the Tenryo Commission. Particles of Anemo danced around him with every step he took.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes and scoffed. The lingering power of Anemo set his steps light as he sprinted after Kazuha, the slight breeze picking at his hair. Scaramouche glanced down at the empty streets. The pests the Commission sent out must’ve cleared the streets of everyone. Stalls were left unattended, the fire of some still left roaring. How hazardous, Scaramouche thought to himself. Would be a shame if I were to…

He snickered to himself, eventually deciding against his actions. There’s no need for Scaramouche to cause any more trouble for himself.

The sight of the Tenryo Commission building was getting closer. With the building being one of the fanciest things the city has build, it was hard to miss it, even if one was just passing by. It was by far the grandest thing the council had ever invest in.

Scaramouche leaped down from the rooftops and landed with a silent poof of air. The entrance to the Tenryo Commission beckoned at him. There were guards pacing around the premise, but they be easily taken care of.

The sky darkened, and the tingling feeling of electricity hung low in the air. Scaramouche took his time walking to greet the nuisances, wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Meanwhile Kazuha began to investigate the surroundings. He was quite certain that somewhere around this area, he could find a trace of you. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Immediately he picked it up as Scaramouche doing something idiotic, again.

He didn’t tried to interfere with whatever Scaramouche had planned. Not only will Scaramouche beat his ass for interrupting him, but it’ll only add fuel to the flames that is already raging uncontrollably.

Kazuha sniffed the air. There was a familiar scent to the wind. He followed where to the breeze led him, and he ended up in an abandoned part of the town. There, everything was run down. Windows were boarded up, doors were bolted shut.

A glint caught his eyes. It was a broken mirror, with droplets of splattered blood dotting the ground around it. Kazuha looked closer at it.

Ah. So that’s what was familiar scent was.

…

The sparks of electro fizzled away into the air, and with that, the bodies of everyone began to drop, one by one. Weapons clattered to the floor as the numbness overtook their vessels. All expect for one.

Scaramouche chucked, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “Oh relax General, they aren’t dead. I’m not that cruel.”

“Don’t move,” Kujou Sara’s voice was stern, unwavering as she stood a distance away from Scaramouche, her bow raised and aimed. Even with the room being near pitch black, she could still see as clear as day.

Scaramouche grinned. “And what are you going to do? Kill me? You know well enough that even if you tried, you’ll still lose.”

The electro vision strung up by her hips glowed fiercely, a sign that she was beyond pissed. Scaramouche’s grin only grew wider. He took a step forward, holding both hands up in the air mockingly.

“Shoot me,” he said. “Do it.”

Sara let an arrow loose at Scaramouche’s words. Infused with the cackling energy of electro, the power alone was enough to knock out four grown adults. The arrow zipped through the air, it’s tip aimed dead at his head.

A crack of Electro came slashing down, effectively slicing the arrow in half. Sara kissed her teeth and lowered her bow. As expected.

“Good try, general. Better luck next time,” Scaramouche laughed. “Now, I believe I came here asking questions, not a fight.”

“What could the Fatui want with us,” she spat out the word Fatui with distaste, hatred clearly rooted in her tone.

“Oh no, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Scaramouche plopped down on the office chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I didn’t come here on the behalf of the Fatui. Do you by any chance…”

He folded his hands together and leaned forward on the messy desk. “…know where [name] is?”

The main entrance banged loudly, it’s hinges trembling with every slam. Muffled voices could be heard shouting from the outside. Sara narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Oh, General, don’t be so tense. I have no intentions of hurting her.”

“Who am I to trust you?” The lock keeping the door jammed cracked.

“I’ll offer you a deal, how’s that? “ he smiled. “You tell me where she is, and I’ll tell you where that girl of yours you’ve been looking for is.”

Sara’s breath hitched.

“Wonderful deal, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve been looking for her for almost what? Three years?.”

Silence.

“I don’t have all day, General. Pick. Lest you want me to go find it myself.”

Pick..

The lock couldn’t support the battering beating its been receiving, and it finally succumbed under the pressure, the doors crashing down with a loud resonating boom.

Sunlight filtered into the dark empty room.

Sara sat there, not a single word uttered. Her eyes bored holes at where Scaramouche had stood. Whatever remains of her bow laid by her feet, and in her her hands, held a crumpled up sheet of paper.

“General? Are you alright? Do you need to seek a medic?”

Gone with the breeze was he, leaving only papers slowly descending to the ground. The pattering footsteps of her underlings echoed in her head as they began scouting the area.

“… In the left drawer, the third one. It holds her resignation letter there.”

Scaramouche raised a brow. “Resignation letter?”

“It was left on my desk yesterday. No sign of [name] when I went to look.”

“Oh?”

“You can go check her office if you don’t believe me, last door to the right of the hall,” Sara said through gritted teeth. She had given away more information that she had intended to.

“Did the cameras capture footage of her handing in letter?”

“Someone sabotaged the security system a few nights ago, it’s still in the process of getting fixed.”

“I see,” Scaramouche mused, tapping one finger against his cheeks. “Mind sharing the footage of the night when it got sabotaged?”

“Now that I cannot give away—”

In a flash, Scaramouche was out of his seat and had Sara by her throat before she could even finish her sentence. “It wasn’t a question,” he hissed, his nails digging into her skin, deep enough to draw blood. “We can either do this the easy way, or we can go the hard way.”

Sara had known about the evil doings of the man holding her in a chokehold, the stories whispered held enough warning to steer clear, but to experience it herself was terrifying. Black spots danced in her vision as her air was abruptly cut off.

“I— I can get it for you,” Sara gasped.

Releasing the women from his grasp, he stepped back and crossed his arms. Sara rubbed at her neck and winced, trying to brush away the pain prickling at her tiny wounds as she clicked away on the computer.

“Here,” she said, handing Scaramouche a USB drive.

“Thank you, wasn’t that hard at all, was it?” he flashed Sara a cold smile before disappearing all together with a swift swoosh of the wind, leaving no traces of there ever being a second person in the room.

She was left alone.

“A resignation letter,” he said, waving the crinkled piece of paper in the air. “And footage of the night the cameras was messed with.”

Kazuha raised a quizzical brow. “A resignation letter?” he echoed. “That’s out of character for her. Oh yeah here, I found this while searching the area.”

He handed Scaramouche the broken mirror. “It was near the abandoned part of town— quite close to where I saw your lover get taken.”

Quite close to where you disappeared.

Scaramouche shoved the USB drive and the letter into his pockets. “Take me there,” he demanded.

Borrowing in the resonance of Anemo from his friend, Scaramouche surged forward just a few steps behind Kazuha. The wind played at his hair, tossing it to the left then to the right. In less than a minute, Scaramouche arrived at the scene.

“Here?”

He scanned the environment. This area does seem like the type of place where people tend to do the unspeakable.

“Here,” Kazuha led him to where he found the item. “Look, that’s the smell of blood.”

Scaramouche got on one knee and took a closer look. With all his years of experience, he should know better than anyone what a scene of crime looks like— and this place, even without there being actual evidence of what took place, aroused heavy suspicion.

What made it worse was that Scaramouche realized that this part of town is what one would call a ‘ghost town’, a place isolated from everyone else, even when it was so close to the lively city. There were no cameras, nothing to record down what had transpired the night you disappeared other than the small droplets of what Kazuha claimed to be blood. Your blood.

It wasn’t that Scaramouche didn’t trust Kazuha’s senses, he had placed full trust in his keen nose. It was one of the prominent reasons why Scaramouche had spared his life that day and allowed Kazuha to work for him. But the thought of you bleeding— wounded, brought up an uncomfortable sensation.

He checked both the front and the back of the mirror, hoping it would show him something he can’t see with his naked eye. Nothing.

“Let’s go back,” he had tried to mask his bitter disappointment, but it was evident. There was no use trying to hide it.

The journey back to your house was swift, thankfully having nobody starting up any more trouble than they were worth for the two. With the sky being dipped in a golden red hue as the sun slowly sets, Scaramouche pushed open the door and gestured for Kazuha to step in.

The house was cold despite Scaramouche having the heater turned on all the way. Kazuha sat on your couch with his cat curled up on his lap, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he read through the resignation letter you left.

“Kazuha.”

“Hm?”

“Did you bring your laptop with you?”

“…no.”

Scaramouche muttered a curse under his breath. “Well I can’t find a laptop in the house. The only one she had probably got destroyed.”

“It’s quite bold of you to assume I would carry such things with me at all times,” Kazuha chuckled lightheartedly. “I can ask for Xiao to bring it over.”

“How fast can he get it here?”

“Depends on his mood, really. But all in all, he’s pretty fast.”

“Have him bring it over. Tell him it’s urgent.”

“Mmhm.”

Scaramouche trailed back into whatever remains of your bedroom and sat down on the broken bed frame. There, his thoughts slowly began consuming him.

How did he manage to mess up? He was gone for only two days. Two days, and something happened to you.

Scaramouche was a careful man, he knew to steer clear of you as to not place harm over your head. If the past were to ever come to light, it’ll only further damage both of your reputations. He bit down on his tongue. Having to shroud the past wasn’t too difficult, Scaramouche had easily blocked it all out. But to bring it back up again hurts.

He buried his face into the palms of his hands. It hurts.

Meow.

Scaramouche looked up, meeting eye to eye with Kazuha’s cat. The tiny feline jumped up onto his lap and yawned, his sharp fangs peeking out. His claws dug into Scaramouche’s skin as he began kneading.

For the past 24 hours he’d been looking nonstop, searching nonstop— fighting nonstop. He hadn’t allowed himself to rest, no. His muscles ached, but that was nothing compared to the pain that had rooted itself deep within his heart. It hurts.

The night he chose to left was ultimately the hardest decisions he had to made. It broke him, but he knows that it’ll hurt you even more than it’ll ever hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Sorry does nothing— nothing.

He wanted to stay. Stay in your tiny bedroom, cuddling with each other as the night gradually fades away into a new dawn. Sometimes he wonders, would things have gone differently if he had stayed?

Idiot, of course it could’ve gone differently.

He should’ve stayed. God, he hated himself for the decisions he had chose. He missed you.

“Scara,” your voice echoed in his head. “Scaramouche.”

He’s spiraling.

He wanted you to leave, to disappear from his mind— but you lingered there, bounded to be a ghost that roamed in his nightmares. No, Scaramouche cannot forget you even if he tried.

Even if his memories were wiped clean, he knows that somehow— just somehow he’ll still recognize you in the sea of strange faces.

It was unbearable.

“Scara…”

Love. Love hurts.

“… Scaramouche.”

His eyes snapped open. “What?”

Kazuha gave him a worried glance. “Xiao’s he— good god are you alright? You look paler than usual.”

He frowned. “I’m… okay. Just tell him to on leave the computer on the kitchen table.”

“If you say so,” Kazuha spared another worrying look at the violet hair man before disappearing downstairs, his cat trotting right next to him.

Scaramouche ran his hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. He can’t stand this anymore, now he’s more determined than ever to find you and tell you all the words he had meant to say before he left.

The USB sitting in his pocket jabbed at him, and his hands closed around it. First things first, examine the clues.

Scaramouche got up and hurried down the stairs, right into the kitchen, where the laptop Xiao had brought was placed on the island. Kazuha was nowhere to be found, but he was sure that the wanderer wouldn’t be gone for too long. After all, Kazuha does play an important role in his hunt for you.

The laptop brightened to life, and Scaramouche hastily plugged the USB into the port. It took a while for the technology to process the information dump, but eventually a file popped up on screen labeled ‘11/16’.

It was the night you disappeared.

His eyes narrowed as the video footage played on. For such a grand company, the quality of both the camera and the video was absolute shit. The time played all the way until near midnight, and that’s when Scaramouche noticed something amiss. He paused the video and took a closer look.

There was no mistaking it. The black shadow definitely wasn’t just the camera acting up— it was someone. Scaramouche felt his heart skip a beat as he rewinded all the way to the footage of two nights ago. He needed to confirm his arousing suspicion.

Pause.

Right there, at 4:21pm. Yep, that was someone, sneaking around the perimeter of the building, looking through windows. Scaramouche fast forward the video by just a little bit, and the camera screen switched, giving him a perfect view of the suspect.

Dressed in all black— not very conspicuous in board daylight, yet nobody seemed to noticed them. He watched as the stranger unlatched one of the many windows and slipped in, completely oblivious as to the fact that they were being recorded.

Scaramouche didn’t need to have footage to prove that the window the suspect had entered through was your office, it was obvious.

The video sped up once again, and the figure appeared back in the camera frame twenty minutes later, looking to be in a rush. In their arms were a duffel bag containing something— if Scaramouche had to guess, it could’ve been case files on something.

But what would they need with the files?

“Reviewing the camera footage already?”

Kazuha’s sudden reappearance made Scaramouche jump.

“Ah, apologies,” he said. “How’s it going? Got any clues yet?”

“Look,” Scaramouche said, pausing the video and pointing to the black figure. “That happened Tuesday morning. Just three days before she… disappeared. And then the next day, the footage crashed.”

Kazuha frowned. “Isn’t that… her office?”

“That is,” he nodded. “Now I don’t know who that person is, or why they barged into her office, but I know that that has something to do with her disappearance.”

Kazuha zoomed in on the stranger's face. While there were a couple of pixels of their face, it definitely wasn’t enough to do a full face analysis on their identity. The only prominent feature was the tiny tussle of blue hair peeking out from the hood. He paused. “What about their letter? Have you found anything odd about it?”

“Haven't checked yet, but I’ve read through it multiple times. The contents just don’t make sense.”

“Hold on, I’ll go find a recent file of hers. We can compare the handwriting. It is a handwritten letter, right?”

Scaramouche nodded, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Tell Xiao I said thanks.”

Tuesday afternoon, someone broke into your office— what they took was unknown. Their identity cannot be confirmed, for they were covered completely, head to toe in black. That was all he had.

He was at a dead end.

Scaramouche groaned in frustration, slamming the computer shut.

It doesn’t make sense.

Why? Why were they unable to see what went wrong? They’d been with you for years— they should know.

Nothing made sense.

What was the motive behind your kidnapping? The criminals you’ve caught is still locked behind bars, cut off from the outside world, meaning they couldn’t have been the one to sought after you. Could it have been the Fatui?

No… Scaramouche would know if it were to happen under the very organization he works for.

And why hasn’t anyone noticed? Even if you were to resign from your position as a detective, you would still be widely recognized if you were out on the streets walking.

According to what Kazuha had gathered over the past months, you were seen outside taking a stroll atleast once a day, even if you were down with the flu. The locals had long adopted your habit— yet nobody, nobody noticed. Not a single person called out on the strange anomaly of your disappearance.

Fucking dammit.

“Scaramouche,” Kazuha’s voice brought him back to the present. “So I did an analysis on both, and I thought maybe you’d want to look at it yourself.”

He handed Scaramouche two pieces of paper. One was the resignation letter, the other was a document written on about the Doctor. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Both handwritings matched near identical to each other.

Scribbled along the margins of both papers was Kazuha’s flawless penmanship.

“I’ve written down the differences I noticed, they may not seem very obvious, but it’s there,” Kazuha said.

Scaramouche scanned through the notes, and his frown deepened as he read through it.

“See what I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s really weird.”

‘Hope this finds you well and alive.’

‘Decided to resign due to personal issues…’

Well and alive? That phrase alone was suspicious enough, almost as if you were expecting death to deliver its final blow towards her. Why would you wish death upon someone who had been looking out for you during the years he cannot?

He reopened the computer and clicked on the footage, then brought out the broken mirror he had been given and placed it next to the computer. Kazuha followed by setting down the two documents side by side next to mirror.

Scaramouche took a hard look at the items placed on the table. While everything seemed to be connected in some way, there was just something missing. A good portion of it was still yet to be discovered, and if Scaramouche were to find it— it’ll connect the dots.

“Let’s get this straight, two nights ago someone broke into her office and took something away. We aren’t sure what it was, but I can always go investigate. The only feature we could find on the said suspect was the tiny pixels of blue hair, and that we can’t even confirm if it’s real or just a trick of the camera,” Kazuha said.

“And then on the night your beloved was taken, I didn’t see anything sort of suspicious, other than a couple of buildings exploding. Which leads us to the mirror I found in where I presumed she was taken,” he pointed to the broken mirror. “And the strangely phrased resignation letter she left.”

“The thing is,” Scaramouche spoke up. “Right after that we reach a dead end. Even if you do go to her office, it won’t be guaranteed that you’d find what’s missing. We’re still not looking hard enough, there’s a large chunk that we’re still missing.”

“Scaramouche.”

A soft thump follow by the light pattering of paws against the hardwood floor was heard as Tomo approached the two men. He dropped something on the floor and meowed as he stared into Scaramouche’s eyes.

Kazuha picked up the item that was dropped, and Scaramouche felt his heart drop and blood run cold once again. The look the two shared said more than enough.

He had hoped it wasn’t, but once the evidence was brought into light— there was really no arguing when the truth was placed right in front of him. Something inside of him snapped, and suddenly a turmoil of emotions raged within his mind. There was only one thought consuming his mind as he ran out the house.

He was going to kill that bitch.

previous || series m.list || next

notes—

— I HAVE SEASON ONE AND TWO PLANNED OUT FINALLY after two months of not updating this series 💀

synopsis —

— you, the hero, disappears overnight, and the only person who looks is the villain. Not your friends, not your family, not the news reporter or any of the people who claimed to love you. Just him, Scaramouche, the very same person who claimed to hate you.

taglist — [CLOSED]

@akairaindrops @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @elernity @shayewrites @angel-suicides @magica-ren @kyouzki @nana-bri @avxntxrine @bleedingwhiteroses222 @rainingduringsummer @darthvada @dan9a-00 @omgblade-starrail @kichiyoshi @inufinuf @vvyeislazzy @alatusorrow @franaby @mellowberrie @sketcheeee @etherisy @crmnic @arizzu @vrisso @id3ru @mochicurls21 @kairuthewriter @suqarlaced @saetorii @anura100000 @divinechicha @starlightaura @karablueyt @supercoolusernameomg @uhh-traashyy @kazuuhhaaaa @lumpywolf @chaosinanutshell @ariilovesmoney @ying-writes @pooonyo @sweetsthetik @i-luvyuu @kunikiss @childeishotasf @scaramochi-lover @eynnwwyjth @liliumaraneae @beriiov @cikolata-kozmozu

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[sadlybeans]

No More Batman AU Part 4: The Prodigal Son

AO3 Link || Part 1, 2 & 3

Dick could pretend all he wanted and play at being a strong, reliable hero, but he wasn’t.

Nightwing had become a beacon of what any new member of the Justice League could aspire to be, standing next to the founding members after winning his own place and not as a replacement to Batman after his retirement. He had worked hard to be the person everyone could rely on, and in turn he had won many wonderful friends that would undoubtedly give everything for him if he just asked— But Dick Grayson? Dick Grayson was a coward.

Dick Grayson was scared to death every day when he didn’t have his siblings in sight, anxiety building up on his chest until he could call or visit to see them, make sure they were safe, they were home, they were alive. He had lost every drop of courage the day he returned home only to be told his little brother had been killed. There wasn’t a single day since those news that he didn’t feel fear, even if he knew his little siblings were strong and capable on their own.

But… well. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid for Damian, or of what he could do.

Dick had started his vigilante career as a child of all of nine years old when his rage was too much to contain and Bruce had lost every battle to keep him home. He had trained with and against many people and he had grown so much that it was said he had long ago surpassed Batman, and yet— yet he felt that Damian was almost, just almost, as good as him.

Damian, the fifteen year old child that had just been dropped on their doorstep a couple months ago. Damian, who refused to acknowledge their presence most days, who swore in expletives that scandalised even Alfred, and who was a trained and seasoned assassin. Damian, who could heal inhumanely fast, who could see in the dark and move without sound, and who had broken Tim’s arm in three with two strikes too fast for any of them to stop.

He was just a kid who shouldn’t have been in their business -much like none of Dick’s siblings should be- yet he was proficient in many of Bruce’s and Dick’s techniques, and he was unfairly fast in learning amidst a fight… Dick had tried setting him up against Cass, and had thought it worked for a moment… until he learnt to use her own moves and set them equally until they were both exhausted. He had mopped the floors with Tim and Steph, and then almost defeated Dick all in a row.

When Tim had asked sarcastically if that was all he had, Damian had frowned as he opened and closed his fist.

“I’m still adjusting to fight without weapons”

A frightening phrase that had made them all fall silent, and then he had to ask cautiously if he’d like to spar with wooden swords. He could’ve sworn Damian almost brightened to that suggestion, but it was such a quick expression he couldn’t be sure. He then picked a katana and won. Against everyone.

And so, after an entire week of testing, they sat in the batcave and Bruce took a deep breath as he stared at all his children, and Dick for once didn’t know how to feel knowing that there was absolutely no excuse to not let Damian out onto the field.

“It’s… clear that your mother trained you well” he started.

“She didn’t” Damian interrupted immediately “Mother had tutors for me, but baba made me better“

Dick mentally filed another tick for concern on his thoughts about Damian’s mysterious baba.

“Right” B cleared his throat “your baba trained you well, I admit that you’re strong enough— But!” the boy scowled and he continued “Things here are not like you’re used to and….”

“I’ve been told on your family’s stand on killing. It’s stupid, but I’m willing to play along” he grunted reluctantly.

Bruce stared at him, and so did Tim and Dick, but there was no trace of deceit in him. For all his intensity and temper, he wasn’t really the type to lie as they had learnt, so Dick was inclined to believe him this time.

“… Very well. You can’t be Robin”

“You have said that already” Damian rolled his eyes “I’ll take another name”

That is certainly not the point, and none of them were comfortable with him being out there when they didn’t even know why he wanted to.

Things in Gotham had gone downhill when Jason died, and when Batman was put into the case that stood next to Robin, it was up to everyone else to keep the order in the city. They’d done a good job of keeping up the illusion, of pretending Batman still existed, but those who knew him well knew the truth… Joker hadn’t escaped in ten years, not since a week after Jay died and Nightwing beat him half to death before tossing him in Arkham. But now the asylum was on high alert, and a certain clown was said to be in a good mood after those photos of Robin were leaked.

The news had exploded and the topic was trending online, hence why Damian was actually needed despite their reluctance; he was the only one that fit the build and size, and who could also perfectly replicate Jason’s body language as terrifyingly confirmed by the photos and footage. They didn’t look that much alike and Damian’s skin was darker, but the pictures were taken at night and from far off, nobody could spot the difference unless he was close enough and standing still.

“Can you promise that you’ll be careful and follow Dick’s rules?”

The boy frowned.

“I’m not a child, I know what to do”

“We already discussed this, it’s my way or nothing”

“… Fine, I promise” he said in a grunt, crossing his arms across his chest. “Any other ridiculous demands?”

“You never patrol alone, ever” Bruce held up a hand before he could protest “that’s a rule all of them follow, not only you”

He didn’t look any more happy but nodded.

“And one last thing… you’re going to need to learn the ropes of how this works, and Dick can’t supervise you all the time. For obvious reasons, I don’t believe anybody else is qualified to supervise you, so after talking it through with Clark… Superboy is going to be your partner whenever Nightwing is not available”

Damian didn’t say anything, no immediate explosion of anger, nothing. They all waited with baited breath as he just stared at Bruce.

“He’s a child” he finally replied, with actual bafflement in his voice.

“Jon is thirteen, yes, but he’s been in the business for longer than you, and he’s kryptonian. It’s safer”

“So I don’t kill him”

“Safer for both of you”

“No, you really just want to prevent me from killing him because I don’t have access to kryptonite at the moment”

“I… Like to believe you would not attempt to kill a child”

Damian shook his head in disbelief and Tim pushed past Dick.

“Are you serious, B!? Jon’s way too good for him, it’s not safe! Why not— hell, if you want him to be supervised by a kryptonian then Kon might be able to!”

Bruce sighed deeply.

“Supernova is as busy as you are, son. And there is an undeniable advantage on Damian being around a boy his own age, it will raise less suspicion”

“B, this is madness!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea….”

Slowly they all started to argue and Bruce tried to appease Steph, Tim and Duke, with Cass staying silently frowning in the background and Dick letting himself fall seated on the chair next to the computer, exhausted both physically and mentally. Damian didn’t look too upset but he was definitely over the whole conversation and completely tuned it out, moving through a couple sword forms with his wooden katana. God… when had things fallen apart this bad?

A phone rang in the silence and Damian turned his head towards the computer, where his burner phone rested. Dick’s eyes widened and slowly the discussion died down as the teen crossed the room and picked it up, looking down at the screen for a second before he answered it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you ungrateful little brat!?”

Dick fully winced at the furious voice that hollered at the other side, audible in the sudden dead silence of the cave. Damian looked wholly unimpressed, and he wasn’t sure if to think that was stupid or brave.

“I’m fitting in, like you said I should. Wayne has agreed to let me patrol with them”

Damian please, don’t you have any self preservation instincts? Why are you talking to your father like this? Damian, I beg you—

“If you so much as step a single foot out on the streets on patrol I WILL DRAG YOU BACK kicking and screaming if I have to!”

“Ok”

“You have no idea of—! … What?”

Damian’s lips turned into a smug smirk and Dick gaped at him.

“I said ok. You can come drag me back inside the house”

Oh.

Oh, this sneaky little brat… It was such a simple trap but it worked. This mysterious “baba” of his obviously wanted nothing to do with the bats -so far their leading theory was that he didn’t want to risk getting arrested-, which was why he couldn’t check on Damian personally, but if the boy did something so reckless that he wouldn’t approve of, something he knew only he would be able to stop… then he had no choice but to come to Gotham and set him straight.

“Damian Al-Ghul, you know exactly why I don’t want you out playing superhero” the man hissed in a low dangerous tone.

“I know” the teen agreed calmly “and it’s not going to stop me. I didn’t want you to go either and you didn’t listen to me”

“I’m the adult in this relationship you little shit, you don’t get to make demands”

“Well you gave me away so it’s not up to you anymore!” And he hung up. He turned off the phone and turned away to stare directly at Bruce. “When can I go out, then?”

Fuck…. Dick seriously needed a drink.

Robbing a store in Gotham was frighteningly easy, as long as you didn’t run across a very pissed off owner or a vigilante. But hey, Mark was very sure that none of the Bats patrolled that area at that hour, giving him a window of time to act and leave silently without anybody being disturbed.

After emptying the safe and putting a few semi valuable items in his backpack he sighed and turned around towards the door, and nearly had a heart attack right there and then, a strangled yelp coming out of his mouth. There was… god, that was a new one!

The figure was perched atop a car at the other side of the narrow street, crouched and staring directly into him through the soulless white eyes. They wore a black hood that obscured most of their face, but the bat cowl they wore was still visible and the ears poked out of it, easily making them identifiable. The rest of the suit was mostly black and red, with a somewhat childish touch on it that gave it a creepy vibe; the chunky boots of a bright red that matched the knee and elbow pads, the crimson palms of the black gloves, and the bright bat on their chest. Something about this miniature Batman reminded Mark of… of Robin, whose pictures had been supposedly taken not long ago.

Fuck, no, it couldn’t be him! Robin had died ten years ago, this was impossible—

The figure stood from his crouch and jumped down to the pavement to start making his way over, and Mark screamed in terror.

New Vigilante in Gotham! Could This Be Robin!?

Dick folded the newspaper and sighed, looking up to the many screens of the computer again. The media had been in a frenzy the entire week, and the internet was blowing up even more. Hardcore fans had dug up every single video and photo they had of Robin from ten years ago and were comparing them side to side with little Batman, and incredibly… they were thoroughly convinced that they were one and the same, which had sparked an avalanche of theories as to how had he come back from the dead, and why so late. If any of them had been skeptical about Damian’s ability to imitate Jason, then their doubts had been eliminated— hell, he could do it so well that he had added details not even Dick or Bruce could remember until they rewatched old footage to compare.

In just his first night the new Batman had turned the city upside down, and so far after a week of continuous work, he seemed to be doing just fine… which was why now, Bruce wanted them to focus on finding that mysterious ‘baba’.

Damian was still not aware of their active investigation, but either way they had found absolutely nothing, not even Babs had managed to dug up any evidence or record, and it didn’t help that the info they had was severely limited to little facts the youngest Wayne dropped here and there.

“I don’t think we’ll find shit” Tim declared next to him, grumpily staring at the nth file they had on the League of Assassins. “We don’t even know what this man looks like”

Dick let out a long sigh and leaned back on his chair as another article popped up on screen, one mentioning the date of Robin’s death, and a vague memory popped up in his head.

“Hey Timmy, do you remember I told you about that kid I ran into at the faire?” he asked quietly as he straightened back up.

“Yeah, the rude little shit that didn’t even say thank you”

“…. I think that was Damian”

Tim finally looked up and frowned.

“What?”

Dick nodded as he turned to look at him with wide eyes, now remembering clearly.

“He was wearing sunglasses so I didn’t see his eyes, but the skintone and face shape is the same, and he was wearing his black hoodie that day, I’m a hundred percent positive it was him”

And come on, the way he talked was a dead giveaway too.

“Dick, why is this relevant?” his poor little brother asked in annoyance.

“Because I saw his dad too!” he declared triumphantly at last, grinning like a mad man, before he turned to the computer and started typing frantically “I couldn’t see his face either, he wore sunglasses and a mask, but he was tall— hell, I think he’s taller and broader than Bruce. And he— he had white hair, I remember I saw white hair beneath his hood”

Tim scrunched up his nose.

“He’s old….? But that can’t be, his voice sounds way too young… dyed hair?”

“Possibly. It would make sense if he doesn’t want to be recognised”

It was a small trail, but a trail nonetheless. With those small identifiers they could check across the security feed of thousands of cameras in Gotham, and narrow the search to big tall men with white hair that had been spotted around the time Damian arrived and right before it. If they clocked a single glampse on him from one of those, they could follow the lead until it brought them to his doorstep. The man was good at hiding, they had to admit, but they weren’t the world’s greatest detectives for nothing.

Before they could truly start digging on the new lead properly, one of the screens was overaken by Babs.

“Sorry to crash your party boys, but I think you should clock in early today— I just got an alert on East End for way too many gunshots. Mini Batman is requesting to go out”

“I’m not a mini anything, Gordon” Damian called from the stairs, where he was walking down followed by a silent Cass.

Babs completely ignored him and Dick frowned.

“I don’t think it’s wise to bring you to a possible gang war, Damian”

The fifteen year old raised an eyebrow at him.

“Should I remind you that of anybody in this room, I have performed best the entire week?” he replied dryly.

Dick frowned but Cass surprised them by raising her hand to interrupt.

“We need all the help. Batman will play nice”

They glanced at Damian, who rolled his eyes but nodded in accordance to their sister. Well then… time to work.

What they found in East End was not a gang war in fact, but clowns… Joker’s thugs. While Joker himself hadn’t stepped out of Arkham since Dick last tossed him in ten years ago, his clowns usually came back every few months to remind Gotham they still existed, that Joker could come back every time… It didn’t seem like he had escaped, not yet at least; when and if he did, he would definitely try to make it memorable for ‘little Robin’. At the very least, it meant there was no rogue running rampant and the cleanup was dealt with almost completely smoothly—

That is, until Damian was snatched mid air by the tall and imposing figure of a man, grabbed by the collar of his cape like a kitten as he kicked to struggle to get free.

Dick -or well, Nightwing- turned to attack and then stopped in his tracks. That man was big, definitely bigger than Bruce was now, with a shock of white hair amidst black and his face covered by both a domino and a red metallic mask over his nose and mouth. None of them heard him move near them, despite the fact he was not a few steps away… he had managed to sneak up on all the bats, he could’ve done anything before they even relised he was present.

“I warned you, and you didn’t listen” the robotic voice came from the mask and its modulator “You’re fucking grounded, you little piece of shit”

Damian twisted to kick him in the chest despite being held up in the air, although the man didn’t even react or move at being hit. The boy wasn’t upset though, grinning as if he’d just won their little spat, which in a way he had.

“Hi, baba” he said innocently “you look really nice tonight”

[fawntarot999]

What is your new 2023 aesthetic? 💁‍♀️👑💄

Close your eyes and take a deep breath, then pick a pile 🔮 don’t think too much 💋

Decks ~ Mystic Mondays Tarot, Fyodor Pavlov Tarot, The Herbiary Oracle, Rider-Waite Tarot, Rebel Deck Oracle, Tarot of the Cat People

Pictures are from Pinterest, I do not own them

Pile I ~ Jackie

King of Cups, 2 of Wands rx, 8 of Pentacles, 3 of Swords, 7 of Pentacles, Rose, Fool rx, Tower rx, Fucking Apologize, Blank

Hahahaha, okay Jackie you got hurt and now your coming back with a vengeance, huh? It’s real though. It’s not a fake bad bitch energy, it’s an actual prosperity energy. Let’s think Megan Fox aesthetic. 2023 is the year in which you should begin to pursue your creative desires more passionately and in more of a business sense. Stop planning and thinking so much and go get it because the energy is there to turn your emotions into art into money. You were deeply hurt last year. Heartbroken. Some of you were cheated on. This year is your restart. This is the year you’re done playing a fool and waiting for more bad events to happen. It’s the year you start over and learn how to crack open and be beautifully in sync with your emotions. Your challenge this year is forgiving yourself and practicing self care. Forgive yourself and apologize to everyone you’ve wronged. You’re literally being given a blank slate (your last card is blank) and all I hear in my head is “the rest is unwrittennnn”. Single, making money, being creative, bad bitch energy, reds, pinks, oranges, THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER THIS YEAR!

Spirit Shuffle ~ Both Sides of the Moon by Celeste, WYTYNM by Miles Monaco, Junie by Solange, 6000 degrees by $hyfromdatre, my strange addiction by Billie Eilish

Pile II ~ Skate

Queen of Swords, Lovers, Justice, Chickweed, Tulsi, Justice, Knight of Swords, Don’t Fucking Force It, Temperance, Page of Pentacles

Damn, Skate, ain’t shit slidin by you this year. You’re calling bitches out left, right, and center. This is that “don’t lie to me, I’ll know” energy. Some of you might be feeling emotionally detached as well. I’m seeing an alignment of many things here: being brutally honest and just with others, discovering your own self worth, and this cute little academia bookworm vibe that would be so cute on you this year. I keep seeing the cover of Khalid’s first album as like an aura or energy for you guys this year. I’m seeing a lot of you might be in school or even law school this year. Some of you might be getting a divorce. This is a good fresh energy for that and it feels very positive. This year feels like a “that girl” energy: focused on school or learning, truth, and reading of some kind, and really discovering what it means to have a self love relationship with yourself. The only thing is sometimes you have a tendency to force things or move too quickly. This year is about learning how to let life flow naturally, let things come to you, practice the law of attraction, and find abundance from a place of calm. I’m so excited for you, Skate. This year you will learn how sacred you are.

Spirit Shuffle ~ Sick Shit by Together Pangea, I’m That Type of N**** by The Pharcyde, Brain Soup by Nasty Cherry, Sugar Honey Iced Tea (S.H.I.T.) by Princess Nokia, THERAPY! by Lauren Sanderson

Pile III ~ Cig

Justice rx, 5 of Pentacles rx, Quaking Aspen, Daisy, 2 of Swords, You’re The Shit, Drop The Fucking Ego rx, Empress rx, Rejuvenation (Judgement)

This year you are coming into yourself, Cig. This is your “don’t fuck with me” year. You’re upsetting the scales this year, Cig, and you don’t care anymore who’s mad about it. You’ve been rejected and neglected and had love withheld from you. You’re over that shit. This is some powerful energy and it’s giving “I don’t care what you think about me anymore”. You are learning how to be yourself. You have been the peacekeeper for too long. You’ve been making compromises for others for too long. It’s always a choice between being who you really are and receiving love and resources. You are learning that you SHOULD have an ego because guess what, you’re the fucking shit, Cig. You are learning to integrate the masculine side of you. This could be finding your voice and speaking out, exploring gender and sexuality, or finally feeling enough autonomy to make choices for yourself. When you can employ this masculine side of you, you will feel truly expressed, fulfilled, and reborn. I thought this reading was gonna be light but I think this year is gonna be really transformative for you, Cig. And it will happen through your own choices and agency. You are already perfect 🪷

Spirit Shuffle ~ cat scratch by Dua Saleh, No Effort by Princess Nokia, Recipe! by Jean Deaux, Moody! by Jean Deaux, fxck it then by Yaya Bey

[livesincerely]

possessive jack in the merlin au in these trying times??? (no pressure though i love your work sm any writing of yours at all is enough fuel for weeks worth of my bedtime stories)

The upcoming tourney means that training has increased tenfold, which means that the amount of time David spends repairing, cleaning, and polishing Jack’s armor and weapons has also increased tenfold.

Granted, it could be worse: David’s managed to pawn off the worst of his duties to poor Garth so that he can focus on tasks too important to leave to others—namely the aforementioned armor and weapons. Which is why he’s sitting on the edge of the training grounds with a pair of pliers and a set of Jack’s chainmail, carefully replacing any rusted or damaged links with fresh ones, a gentle breeze tempering the worst of the afternoon sun.

Jack is properly in his element out here, watching with a keen eye as the knights run through their drills, calling out corrections and critiques in equal turns. Every now and then he demonstrates a particular sequence himself, the edge of his blade glinting majestically as it slices through the air.

David’s attention is so thoroughly split between his work and keeping watch over his Most Royal and Most Exasperating Pain in the Ass that it takes him a moment to realize that the shadow that’s fallen over him isn’t from a cloud, but from someone sidling up beside him.

“Uh, hello?” he says, squinting up at the unexpected company. “Can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” the stranger says. He’s dressed in a dark tunic with a sword sheathed across his hip, leather braces strapped around his wrists and a plate buckled across his chest. “Do you know if visiting knights are allowed to train on the grounds or should I find somewhere else to run through some drills.”

“That’s a question quite a bit above my station,” David says, recognizing the crest stamped into his armor as from one of the northern delegations. “Sir Sean or Sir Albert would be the ones to ask, to be sure, but in my experience the answer will likely be no. I think there’s a separate area set up in the East Courtyard.”

“Could I trouble you to show me the way?” the knight asks. “I find myself becoming hopelessly lost when I try to navigate the citadel alone.”

“I’m sure I could slip away for a moment,” David agrees, setting aside his pliers. He glances back across the training yards and Jack seems more than occupied, walking one of the younger knights through a disarming sequence. “I understand more than most how difficult it can be to find your way around the castle.”

“Thank you, kindly.” He offers David a hand up, and once he’s on his feet, he bows low over their clasped hands and presses a kiss to David’s knuckles. “I am Sir Camden of Rhodia, and graciously in your debt.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, really,” David says, blushing furiously at the gesture. “My name is David.”

“David,” Sir Camden repeats. “A lovely name for an even lovelier creature.”

He offers his arm as David tries not to stanmer, thoroughly flustered in the face of such an unexpected compliment.

“There’s no need for flattery,” David says, hoping he doesn’t sound as ruffled as he feels. “I’ve already agreed to show you the way.”

“There’s always time for flattery,” Sir Camden disagrees lightly, his expression bright with good humor. “Especially for one as clearly deserving of it as you.”

“O-oh, well—“

“David!”

David turns towards the shout to find Jack stalking toward him at a steady clip, jaw clenched and brow furrowed.

“And where do you think you’re going? We’ve still got several more hours of training,” Jack informs him sharply, as if David wasn’t already fully aware.

“Prince Johnathan,” Sir Camden says, sinking into a deep bow at Jack’s approach. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, I am Sir Camden if Rhodia.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Jack says, crisply polite. He’s got his war face on for some inexplicable reason, the look in his eyes as hard as stone. “And why, exactly, are you attempting to abscond with my manservant?”

“My apologies,” Camden says carefully, his eyes flitting uncertainly between David and Jack and back again. “David had just agreed to escort me to the secondary training grounds—I’m afraid I’m still at a loss when it comes to navigating the castle grounds. Perhaps, if he could be spared for a few minutes—“

“He cannot,” Jack cuts in firmly, offering no further explanation. “However, I’m sure Sir Anthony would be more than happy to show you.”

Tony steps forward as if summoned from thin air, face settled in a polite mask. “It’s right this way.”

“Of course,” Sir Camden acquiesces, nodding politely at the clear dismissal. “Thank you, my lord.”

Jack doesn’t respond, returning Camden’s farewell with a curt nod of his own. The moment the two of them are out of earshot, David swats at Jack’s arm.

“What was all that about?” he demands.

“Getting friendly with the visiting nobles, are we?” Jack asks with a scowl. “I thought you were convinced that one of them was some kind of assassin in disguise?”

“I was just being nice! He’s the one that came up to me,” David defends, though he’s not quite sure what it is he’s supposed to be defending. “And it would’ve been a great way to gather information on the delegation from Rhodia if you hadn’t interrupted.”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” he mutters. “Because Sir Camden,” —Jack spits the man’s name like it’s the vilest of curses— “seemed interested in a lot more than a friendly escort.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” David informs him, rolling his eyes.

“I’m being— I’m being ridiculous?” Jack somehow manages to make sputtering look handsome and regal because he’s an ass that way. “If he’d taken any more liberties he might as well have asked for your favor!”

“Oh, please,” David scoffs. “As if I’d give my favor to anyone but—“

He stops, the rest of the words caught in his throat.

Jack wheels on him like a hunter who’s finally caught wind of his prey. The look in his eyes has shifted somehow, that flinty gaze settling into something softer, but no less intense, his irises glinting like twin flames.

“Anyone but…?” Jack echoes softly.

David takes a deep breath, his heart hammering against his rib cage. “You’re impossible,” he murmurs.

“I could say the same thing about you,” Jack replies, and he reaches up, catching the edge of David’s neckerchief between his thumb and forefinger.

“Jackass.”

“Smartass.”

They share a smile, only for the two of them.

Finally, Jack says, “Back to work, Jacobs. And don’t let me catch you flirting with any more visiting knights.”

“So, the Manhattan knights are fair game?” David jokes.

Jack’s smile sharpens. He tugs at David’s neckerchief: just the once, just enough for the fabric to bite into his skin.

“The Manhattan knights know better,” he corrects.

And with that parting shot, he saunters away.

[petitelepus]

Haganezuka? More Like BAKAnezuka!

Summary: You are a new resident of the Swordsmith Village and you are already on Haganezuka’s bad side. Not that you mind it, it’s the opposite but he is pissed.

Warnings: None

A/N: Female Reader, Reader has a fake name, enemies to lovers, very brief nudity, good old knife chase

Haganezuka had a pretty good life. He worked hard in the hidden Swordsmith Village, creating Nichirin swords for those brave people who so valiantly fought against demons plaguing the lands of Japan.

Mainly to this young promising Demon Slayer called Tanjiro Kamado, but he made swords for others also. Though very few swordsmen could stand him, due to his bad temper, but he didn't let it bother him one bit. People's opinion of him meant very little to him. All that he cared about were his swords.

Or so he thought until the fated day.

The man was just enjoying some of his precious treats mitarashi dangos on the veranda of his shack, listening to wind-chimes play in the soft breeze when he heard his longtime friend and colleague Kanamori calling his name from the other side of the shack, "Haganezuka? Are you here?"

If the man had been in the middle of sharpening a katana, he would have ignored his friend, but he wasn't working on his swords but enjoying some peace and quiet. Or so he was until Kanamori's masked head popped from the corner of his shack.

"Oh, there you are! Listen, I have someone I would like for you to meet." Kanamori looked over his shoulder and called someone to step up. Haganezuka groaned, not appreciating his break being disturbed but just as he turned to glare at the disturbers his eyes landed on a brand new mask he hadn't seen before in the village... A mask that you were wearing.

Who the Hell were you, wearing big and baggy haori and looking at him like that through your mask? A client? Impossible, only residents of the Swordsmith Village wore those masks.

"Haganezuka, may I introduce you to Kiseki." Kanamori politely pointed at you with his hand, "They are a new resident of the village and wanted to meet everyone, as they will be working alongside us wordsmiths at the hot springs."

"So he isn't even a wordsmith? What use do we even have for someone like him?" Haganezuka grunted as he scowled, not even one bit excited about meeting any new person that he would most likely not be in any contact with.

Kanamori raised his hand, ready to say something, but you gently grabbed his hand and lowered it, taking the chance to speak for yourself.

"So you're the great wordsmith behind the black blades?" You asked, your voice disoriented by your mask. Haganezuka's scowl didn't go anywhere as he nodded, "Yeah, so what about it?"

"And your name is Haganezuka?" You repeated and before the man could reply you laughed out loud, using one hand to hold your stomach and the other one to point at him, "Ha ha, more like BAKAnezuka!"

"What was that!?" Haganezuka totally forgot his delicious dangos and the gentle chime of the wind-chimes fell to deaf ears. "I dare you to say it again!"

"Like, how old are you, can you even make proper swords anymore?" You just didn't know where to stop, only taunting the ill-tempered man more and more. Enough for him to slip his mask back on and use his other hand to reach behind him and grab one of his sharp knives.

"Oh, crap!" You yelped as soon as you saw the knife and deadly aura emitting from the swordsmith holding the said knife.

"I'm going to kill you!" Haganezuka shouted as he bolted at you and you cackled like a maniac as you turned and made a run for it.

"As if you could catch me, BAKAnezuka!" You laughed and that only set him off more. The man was screaming as he chased you down the road towards the village, leaving Kanamori shouting after you two, "Haganezuka, please wait up! They are not- Ah, and they are both gone..."

Haganezuka chased you down the village and he would have chased you until nightfall if you hadn't made a disappearance act and vanished into thin air. He tried to get other villagers to spill where you had hidden, but no one knew. So he begrudgingly let you go this time as he returned to his shack to focus on his work.

Little did he know that you were looking after him from your hiding place, thanking any God there was that you had managed to lose him before your stamina had run out. Something that came dangerously close to happening. You decided to wait out at Kanamori's place, his loving wife serving you tea while you waited for her husband to return.

Soon enough, Kanamori returned and turned to look at you, with your mask off and your pretty face out there as you chatted with his wife.

"Ah, Kiseki! You managed to lose Haganezuka?" He asked as he removed his shoes and joined you and his wife on tatami. You nodded as you sipped your warm tea and smiled at the man, "I got damn lucky."

"I can see that. Not many can escape him when they get on his bad side." The man nodded but you could tell that he had more to say. You smiled, "I can sense you want to ask me something?"

"Ah, yes," He nodded again, confirming your thoughts to be true. "I can understand that you want to keep your real name hidden behind your alias Kiseki, but why would you let Haganezuka believe you are a man? Even more, how come you teased him so when you were in fact excited to meet him?"

"Well..." You averted your gaze, a small grin rising to your lips, "He just looked like someone really funny."

"Funny isn't what most would describe when being chased with a knife."

"Oh, let her be Kozo. This is women's reasoning here, right?" En, Kanamori's wife smiled knowingly at you and you tried not to smile, but you couldn't stop the wobbly smile that rose to your lips when you tried so hard not to. You had to cover your mouth with your hand so you could smile as widely as you wanted.

You really had a good reason for wanting to meet Haganezuka, but you couldn't help yourself or your damn mouth. He was so handsome, you were taken aback by his good looks and your brains had short-circuited, resulting in you insulting him. Not that you wanted to, but his reactions were hilarious even if possibly lethal.

You lowered your hand that was covering your mouth and smiled at Kanamori, "I think I'll enjoy living in this village."

Following the weeks and a couple of months to come, every time Haganezuka would visit the village he would always see you there somewhere. You were either running errands, helping the visiting Demon Slayers to find their way to the hot springs or just being right there when he just happened to come over.

He was annoyed, yes, and even infuriated because each time when you would notice him approaching, and would call him BAKAnezuka before laughing and taunting him until he would lose his nerves for good.

Haganezuka could say that he did not like you one bit. The guts you had, even young Kotetsu had some survival instinct as in not to taunt the hot-tempered man like that every time they met.

It got so bad that poor Haganezuka couldn't visit the hot springs because he would get mad by simply imagining you and your smug tone of voice when you would laugh at him. So he crafted a master plan to visit the hot springs when you would most certainly not be there.

It was early morning just before sunrise when he approached the hot springs and Haganezuka was sure that even you wouldn't be there anymore. Not after a long day of serving and guiding visiting Slayers, no, you were certainly resting at your own place already.

So the hot-tempered swordsmith came to the hot springs when there wasn't anyone anymore, but he was confused when he noticed that all the lights were on. Had you left them on? How careless of you, he would make sure to mock you for it the next time the two of you would see each other!

Once in the hot spring, Haganezuka undressed completely, leaving his clothes by the rocks surrounding the hot water with healing water. Slowly, he dipped his legs in first and sighed in pleasure as he sank himself all the way into the water that massaged his tense muscles and washed away the layer of sweat on his body.

The man sighed as he relaxed, leaning his back against the wall and resting his arms on the rocks... He had missed the hot springs so much...

Haganezuka groaned as he stretched his tense muscles, letting the water do its miracles on his weary body... But that is when he heard someone humming a soft tune somewhere nearby.

The man tensed as he listened the voice come closer to his location, but Haganezuka couldn't say anything. That voice... It was alien to him, yet somehow familiar... Like he had heard it somewhere before but he couldn't pinpoint where he could have heard it before.

"Is someone there?" Came a soft voice and Haganezuka felt himself freeze when a figure approached him from the other side of the hot spring and he-!

"W- Woman!?" He shouted as his eyes landed on a woman's bare body. Your bare body, but not that he knew it was you. As far as you knew, the swordsmith still thought you were a male.

You yelped as you noticed Haganezuka resting there in the same water as you, but before he could do or even say anything more, you turned around and rushed away, moving like a snake in the water.

"Oi, hold it-!" The man called after you, but you were gone just as fast as you had appeared. No matter how he looked, the woman was gone. Haganezuka growled as he hit the water's surface with his fists. Just who was that woman and how she felt so familiar to him!?

When the sun rose from the horizon Haganezuka made sure to be by the hot springs until you would come there. If there was someone using the waters then you should know about it.

"I keep telling you, there was a woman there!" The man shouted at you and he could tell you were frowning behind that mask of yours as you crossed your arms.

"And I keep telling you, there was no one else there but you!" You huffed stubbornly, "Geez, are you that old that you see things already?"

"I'm 37 so call me old one more time and I'll kill you!" Haganezuka shouted at you furiously and you snorted, "I'd like to see you try again."

"You little..!" The man growled before shouting, "I'll kill you!"

"Hotaru! Kiseki!" A strict voice came out of nowhere, making you both flinch as you turned to look at the short old man who had shouted at you two. "That is enough!"

"O- Old man?" Haganezuka grunted while you bowed lightly in respect to the old man, "Chief!"

"Enough with this constant bickering between the two of you. It's time that the two of you sit down and talk things through!" The chief of the Swordsmith Village shouted and the two of you glanced at each other before stubbornly looking away.

The old man sighed, "I hate to see you children arguing so much... So I'm making you two talk, no matter what!" The chief snapped his fingers and suddenly three villagers jumped on you two. Two men grabbed Haganezuka while one came up behind you and gently placed a hand on your upper back.

"Oi, let go!" Haganezuka shouted as the men started to drag him away and one holding you escorted you behind them as you didn't put up any fight, unlike a certain man did.

Finally, the men holding you two got you two into Haganezuka's small humble home and threw him inside while you followed him inside. The door was shut tightly behind you two and the chief's voice came from the other side, "You two aren't coming out until you have talked things through!"

And just like that, you were alone with each other. You looked around, taking in the small house and its minimum decoration while Haganezuka growled by himself.

"Damn old man...!" He grunted, "Making me talk with you...! It's like talking to a mule!"

"Oi, show some respect for your elders." You snapped at him, "No matter what, Chief is a kind man. I'm sure he means well."

"I don't want to hear that from you!" Haganezuka shouted, reminding you that you weren't exactly following your own words as you disrespected him nearly every day. You frowned behind your mask, "Also, who are you calling a mule?"

"You, you damn mule!" The man growled as he turned towards the doors and slid his shirt's sleeves up, "I'm going to break through that door no matter what...!"

"Hold it, we are supposed to talk and-!" You turned, but just as you did that, you accidentally stepped on your loose pant leg. You yelped as you tripped, falling face first into the floor and there was a loud crack as your mask cracked.

Haganezuka turned to look at you and he was about to shout at you, but his voice got caught as you got up and rubbed your bruised forehead.

"Shit, that hurt...!" You cursed softly as you rubbed the sore area above your eyes. It hurt, you were sure you would later get a headache because of it.

"It's you...!" Haganezuka whispered as he pointed at you with his finger, "You're the woman back at the hot spring!"

You blinked confusion clear on your pretty face before the realization hit you. You didn't have your mask on. You looked down and around in panic until your eyes landed on the broken pieces of your clay mask before you.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" You shouted as your hands reached for the pieces and tried to push them together as if they would stick to each other but to no avail. Your mask was broken and you had no way to hide your pretty face or conceal your feminine voice anymore.

"Crap, my mask...!" You whispered under your breath. You glanced up and saw Haganezuka staring at you. You flinched at the attention, averting your gaze and covering your face. You were suddenly so bashful, not wanting the man to see you so vulnerable.

The wordsmith stared at you before he finally grunted and pulled his own mask off. Not that you noticed since you weren't even looking at him, but then you felt something nudge your arm and you carefully peeked over your arm... And saw Haganezuka offering his mask at you.

"You can wear mine since yours broke..." He grunted stubbornly and you blinked, stunned by his kind gesture.

"I- I don't need-!" You were about to object but the man pushed the mask harder against your arm. Slowly, you accepted his mask and Haganezuka looked away while you put the mask on, covering that pretty face of yours.

Somehow things seemed to have calmed down between the two of you so you both took off your shoes and sat across each other on the tatami.

"Old man wanted us to talk." Haganezuka frowned, "So let's talk."

"Fine, let's talk." You parroted him. The two of you stared at each other, Haganezuka's orange eyes staring right at his own mask on your face as wind chimes rang just outside the small house. Finally, you grumbled and took off the mask, offering it back to the man.

"I changed my mind, please put the mask back on!" You cried out, much to his annoyance, "Why, what's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, just, put it back on!" You cried as you pushed the mask back harder and the man scowled as he used his hand to push the mask back to you instead, "You wanted a mask so wear it!"

"I told you, I changed my mind!"

"Wear the damn mask!"

"No, you!"

It was a fight, but in the end, neither of you wore the mask, but like said earlier, it was a fight, leaving you breathless and Haganezuka feeling angry. The two of you took a short breather and finally, the man broke the silence, "Why?"

"Why what?" You blinked and the man groaned, "Why do you hate me?"

"Hate you?"

"I understand if swordmen hate me because of my temper, but what reason do you have?" The wordsmith asked and you blinked again in confusion but then his words sank in and you panicked, "I- I don't hate you!"

"Don't play dumb! You're always calling me stupid and making fun of me!" The man bit his lip as he looked at you, "So I want to know... What did I ever do to you?"

You were taken aback by his questions. Slowly, a blush rose to your cheeks and a smile threatened to break out on your lips, your nervous habit. You raised your hand to cover your mouth and nervous smile as you carefully looked aside.

"It's not like I hate you or anything... It's the complete opposite..."

"What?" Now it was Haganezuka who was confused. "Why?"

"Because..." You swallowed nervously as you tried to speak but your voice was small and weak and disoriented behind your hand, "The sword..."

"What? Speak louder!" Haganezuka snapped and you yelped, before lowering your hand and turning to look at him.

"The sword you made was used to save my life!" You exclaimed, shocking the wordsmith into silence. He blinked, but before he could say anything, you continued telling him your side of the story.

"I was about to be devoured by a demon when a young man with a blade dark as night came and saved me."

Tanjiro Kamado. The name immediately popped into Haganezuka's mind because the description fit him perfectly and he was maybe one of the only people who still used the swords made by the wordsmith.

"Of course, I was thankful. I was thankful for him and when I heard that there was an actual man behind that gorgeous sword that was used to save my life, I knew I needed to thank him also..." You sighed softly, "So I came to live here and left my life outside the village behind me."

"You came... Because you wanted to thank me?" Haganezuka asked, baffled and you nodded, "I wanted to pay my respect to the man who created that sword..."

"I see..." Haganezuka nodded but there were still so many things he didn't understand. "Then why the Hell did you lie about your gender?"

"I didn't!" You protested quickly, "You just assumed that I was a man! I got pissed and ended up saying things I didn't mean, like calling you stupid and-!"

"You called me old also, don't forget that!" He quickly added and you nodded, "And then you started chasing me with a knife and..."

"And?"

"And I had so much fun, being the center of your attention..." You blushed as you tried your hardest not to smile, but you couldn't help that wobbly smile from rising to your pretty lips. "I heard from villagers that you wouldn't care about anything else but your swords... So I started to tease you to get your attention."

Haganezuka felt like shouting, but for the first time maybe ever during his long lifetime, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You glanced at him every now and then, smiling nervously while waiting for what he got to say to you.

"You had been acting like some brat with a crush." He finally said as he crossed his arms over his chest, "How old are you anyway?"

"Ah, you should know not to ask a lady her age," You said, but there was no bite or signs of offense in your voice. "I turned 27 just before I got here."

So there were 10 years between the two of you. Haganezuka nodded but before he could ask anything, he noticed that you were staring at him with unblinking eyes. Oh, what pretty eyes you had.

"What?!" The man snapped and you tilted your head in a questioning manner, "So...?"

"So what?" He snapped and you hummed thoughtfully, "Earlier, chief called you Hotaru. Is that your name?"

"Not by choice..." Haganezuka grumbled in embarrassment and you smiled again, bringing a hand up to hide your smile again, "Pfft, that is an awfully cute name for someone as burly as you."

"What about you, huh, Kiseki?!"

"Oh, that's not my real name." You said as you waved your hand lazily, "I just adopted that name since I didn't know if I would stay here or not."

The man scowled and growled by himself before shooting you a glare, "Well?"

You blinked in confusion, "What?"

"Are you going to stay?" Hanagezuka asked and you hummed thoughtfully, "I've lived here for a couple of months already and I admit, I have grown fond of this place, but ultimately, it's up to you I guess?"

"Me?!" The swordsmith shouted, "What do I have to do with your decision?!"

"You know now about my feelings towards you. Hell, I basically told you how I like you. The question is, how do you reply to my feelings?" You asked as you pouted and bashfully looked aside, "If you don't like me back, just say so and... I'll stop calling you stupid and let you be."

"And what if I told you that I'd hate that?" Haganezuka boldly asked and you blinked in shock before looking at him with your eyes wide, "W- wait, what?"

"It's none of my business," Lies, all lies, "But I'd hate to see you leave when everyone likes having you around... Me included, despite you being a little brat about your feelings."

"I..." You didn't know what to say. Despite teasing him and being a total pain in his ass for the whole time you two knew each other, he was willing to put all that behind you two? You blinked, not knowing that there was kindness like that in this world.

Finally, you smiled happily and nodded, "Then, I would love to keep on living here."

"Great, now that we've talked, I think that old man might let us out...!" Haganezuka growled as grabbed his mask and got up on his feet. You nodded as you followed his example and got up, but before either of you went anywhere, he turned to look at you.

"Oi!" The man snapped at you, "Don't get me wrong, I think you owe me something!"

"I guess that is fair," You nodded humbly, "What is it that you want from me?"

"Your name." Haganezuka grunted, "Real name, not some alias. I want to know what to call my lover."

The two of you stared at each other and the man scowled in embarrassment when you didn't react to his words fast enough. Finally, you flinched.

"L- lover!?" You stuttered as you blushed violently and that nervous wobbly smile rose back to your lips, "I- I never dated anyone like this, not with these feelings-!"

"Me either..." Haganezuka grumbled stubbornly as a soft blush rose to his cheeks, "So let's try to get along and get to know each other better..."

"I..." Your smile shrank, but it wasn't a nervous smile any more but a sweet and genuine little smile of joy, "I'd like that."

The wordsmith nodded, satisfied with how things had turned out. He reached for the door, but stopped when he heard you call his name, "Hotaru?"

Oh, how wonderful the name he so hated sounded so sweet when coming from your mouth. The man scowled as he blushed being his mask and glanced at you over his shoulder, "What?"

"Thank you for giving me a chance, even if I was a total bitch to you."

"Your words, not mine." He grunted but before he reached for the door he muttered silently, "And you're welcome..."

"What was that?" You blinked as you smiled, "I didn't quite hear you?"

"Nothing!"

To Haganezuka's surprise, the door slid open without any resistance. The two of you stepped outside and to your surprise, chief Tecchin, Kanamori, and his wife, alongside a couple of other villagers were waiting for you there. As soon as they saw you two step outside, they all cheered.

"Finally, the two of you made up! I'm so happy for you," Kanamori said happily and while you two stared at the audience you had, chief noticed the dark spot on your face.

"Dear, there is a bruise on your forehead!" Chief Tecchin gasped and turned to look at Haganezuka standing next to you, "Hotaru! You didn't hit her, did you?!"

"Oi, I would never hit a woman!" Haganezuka shouted furiously, and you giggled lightly beside him as you brought your hand to cover your smile, "Yet you had no problem chasing after me with knives?"

"That's totally different!" He shouted yet you just kept smiling as you gently leaned your body against his and Haganezuka grunted as if in annoyance but he still allowed the small gesture of affection.

The friends and villagers shared knowing glances behind their masks. It took a moment, but finally, the two of you were together.

[lavenderdreams22]

A Court of Dawn & Dusk - Azriel x Reader (part 1)

Summary: Y/N runs away from an unwanted proposal and finds solstice with an unexpected ally.

A/N: I'm really bad with summaries, but I've had this idea floating around in my head for about a month. I'm planning on making this a slow-burn, multi-part fic, so I hope you guys enjoy it! Comments and Feedback are always welcome!

Warnings: There is a bit of cursing, and very quickly edited.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

*****

The sound of birds chirping woke me up. Sunlight was streaming in through my sheer, golden curtains, casting shapes across the marble floor. I pulled my blanket over my head in a feeble attempt to block out the morning.

There was nothing to do today. Nothing, except for the training session that I had each morning with Ian.

“Shit.” I shot out of bed. The angle of the sun let me know that I was most certainly late.  

I stumbled around my room muttering profanities as I slipped into my training tunic and haphazardly brushed my teeth and hair.

A few of my friends took me to a pub in town last night, and I had stayed out way too late. I could hear Alana’s voice in my head, telling me to live a little. Telling me that the consequences were worth it. Even though she was probably right, I was still cursing myself.

With a grimace at my appearance in the mirror, I threw my door to my suite open, and broke into a sprint down the hallway.

*****

 The training ring was near deserted by the time I arrived. A few were still sparring in various areas, a blur of wings and red and gold. I stepped through the groups, waiting for Ian to spot me from his spot by the weapon racks.

His gaze eventually landed on me, and the grin he gave me took me aback for a moment.

Ian had always been handsome. He spent a good amount of time taking care of himself, and it showed. His shoulder length brown hair was soft and smooth, his cobalt eyes bright and always aware, his muscular build, and beautiful, feathered wings.

“Well, well. Look who finally decided to join us.” Ian bellowed over the sound of clashing metal. “Sleep well, princess?”

I offered him a nasty gesture in response, and he laughed so loud a few people stopped for a moment to watch him.

“Late night?” His cocky smirk had rage bubbling in my throat. My temper today, it seemed, was incredibly short.

“Shut it, Ian. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Only two hours late. But I suppose late truly is better than never.” He slung an arm around my shoulders.

“Just deal me my punishment and shove off.” I rolled my eyes as he ruffled my hair.  

“No punishment today. Your father told me about your court duties later, and that seems bad enough from where I’m standing.” He turned my face so that I met his eyes.

“Court duties?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows.

He reached out and stroked a thumb over my chin, and I shoved his arm away from me. He gave me a wounded look. He had always been touchy, but sometimes it was too much.

“You didn’t know?”

“Obviously not.” I shook my head, “When did you see my father?”

He ignored my question. “You’re supposed to dress up. Maybe shower? You smell like a liquor cabinet.”

“How sweet. Did I ever tell you that you know just the thing to say to make me swoon?” I pushed away from him. “When?”

“Mid-day.”

“Shit.” I pinched the bridge of my nose as he snorted.

“Language, princess.” He tutted, “not very regal of you.”

“Stop calling me princess.” I moved around him, towards the weapon rack.  

“Fine. Let’s run some drills, your majesty.” He bowed, and I resisted the urge to hit him.

When he looked back up at me, his eyes were alight with humor and something else I couldn’t quite place.

“I hate you.” I sighed, defeated.

“No, you don’t.”

He grinned at me as I grabbed a sword from the rack and took up a defensive stance. He pulled his own sword from the sheath at his side and grinned wickedly. With a wink, he was launching himself at me.

*****

I smoothed my hand down the front of my gown. I had chosen something golden with red embroidery. I wasn’t entirely sure what the nature of this meeting would be, but my father rarely requested that I dress up.

The hallway was quiet, except for the click of my shoes on the marble floor, and I found myself admiring the way the morning glories snaked up and around the sunstone pillars. It seemed as though the palace was glowing. The sky beyond was a beautiful blue, the reds of morning still lingering in the sky. The clouds below were few and far between, and I knew that if I stepped up to the railing, I would be able to see the red roofs of the village below.

“This place is beautiful.” A male voice floated to me from down the hallway. “It reminds me of daybreak.”

“It’s almost as if that is the entire point.” Another replied.

As I rounded the corner, and they came into view, I sucked in a breath and stopped in my tracks.

They were both dressed in all black and utterly beautiful. But it wasn’t their beauty that had me pausing. It was the wings that one of them had tucked in close to their body. The membranous texture was so different from the feathers that I was used to.

“You’re Illyrian.” I stated, my mouth open in surprise.

“That I am. But I’d prefer Cassian if you were to call me anything.” He grinned at me, extending a hand.

“Y/N.” I replied, taking his hand to shake. He pulled my knuckles to his lips instead, causing a deep blush to spring to my cheeks.

When he released my hand, I turned to his companion. His violet eyes were shining as he offered me his own hand.

“Are you going to kiss me, too?” I asked as I took it.

“You should be so lucky.” The male said. “I’m Rhysand.”

So, this was the famous High Lord of the Night Court. I shrunk back a bit, thinking back to all the terrible things I had heard about him over the 186 years that I had been alive.

“Rhysand.” I nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

There was a charged silence for a moment, and I added, “Mostly from my father.”

“Who is your father?” He asked, sticking his hands into his pockets, the image of indifference.

“That would be me.” My father spoke from behind the males.

He had come out of nowhere, which was usual for him. He had a talent for sneaking about.

“Thesan.” Rhysand turned, pulling a hand from his pocket to shake my fathers. “I didn’t know that you had a daughter.”

“That I do. She is quite elusive.” My father shot me a small, loving smile. “Consider it a privilege that she pulled herself away from the sparring ring to come and meet with the two of you.”

“Sparring ring?” Cassian asked, shifting his gaze back to me.

“I train with the Peregryn’s every morning.” I answered with a shrug.

“Impressive.” Cassian nodded his approval.

“Please, come in. We have much to discuss.” Thesan opened the door to his office, beckoning everyone in.

It was then that I noticed Ian standing against the wall, examining his nails. He must have been their escort. His face was unreadable as he gave me a small wave, pushed off the wall, and sauntered down the hallway. I watched him for a moment before following our guests.

My father stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you.” I beamed, “I was debating wearing my tunic, but Ian talked me out of it.”

“Remind me to push for his advancement.” Thesan winked before letting me continue into the office. “He is part of the family, after all.”

I eyed my father for a moment, the feeling that I was being told a joke that I wasn’t entirely apart of was something that I couldn’t shake. I offered him a tentative nod and made my way over to the oak table in the center of his office.

Once we were all seated, Thesan clapped his hands together. “Let’s get right to the point, shall we?”

*****

Rhysand, Cassian and I spent the rest of the afternoon together. I gave them a tour of the villiage below the palace, bought them scones from my favorite bakery, and explored the many gardens and courtyards.

Which is how I ended up in a white iron gazebo in the middle of millions of Lotus flowers, with two of the most powerful members of the Night Court.

"So," I started. "What would emissary entail?"

"Mostly communication between our two courts. That, and keeping the peace." Rhysand replied.

"There has rarely ever been unrest between us." I said.

"Then the job should be easy." Cassian grinned. "Plus, you'll get to spend more time with me."

I rolled my eyes playfully. Even though I had only known them for a short amount of time, it felt as though I had known them my entire life. The warnings and stories all seemed to fade into the background the more we laughed and talked.

"How often can I expect to be travelling?"

"That, my dear, is totally and completely up to you." Rhysand said.

I turned my gaze to the flowers, a small smile gracing my lips.

"That can be decided later.” I nodded.

"As long as you're comfortable. You are welcome in our home whenever."

"I've always wanted to travel." I muttered.

"I think you'll love the night court." Rhysand added. "There is one thing I would like to note."

I nodded as a signal for him to continue.

"There will be things that you see and places you go that you cannot talk to anyone else about." He clasped his hands together.

"Why the secrecy?"

"We like to leave some things to the imagination."

*****

"So.. Emissary?" Alana asked, laying on my floor, flipping through one of the many books I had laying around. "What does that entail?"

"I'll basically be traveling between courts, keeping the peace." I replied, pulling my knees to my chest.

My golden gown had been discarded on the floor and Alana was currently using it as a pillow. I had traded it for a plain pair of trousers and a loose fitting top.

"I'm jealous." She said, "I wish I had the opportunity to travel."

"You'll get that chance. Even if I have to drag you out of here myself." I rested my head on my knees.

"You're so sweet." She closed the book and let it fall to the ground beside her.

I chuckled to myself and we fell into a comfortable silence for few moments.

"I should get going. If I'm late to meet Ian, I will never hear the end of it." I finally said, standing and slipping my shoes on.

"Have fun with your boyfriend!" Alana giggled.

"NOT my boyfriend."

"Does he know that?" She raised an eyebrow and I groaned.

"Goodbye, Alana." I shook my head as she broke out into another fit of giggles, and we went our separate ways.

*****

Ian had laid out a blanket and a plate of fruit on our usual veranda.

"What's all this?"

"Nothing really. I just wanted to do something special for you." He said, taking a seat.

I sat opposite him, looking out over the clouds and mountains. We watched the sunset together every day, and I still lost my breath at how utterly beautiful it was.

"So, how did that meeting go?" He popped a grape into his mouth.

"I'd say well, but I can't really talk about it." I replied, taking my own grape from the platter.

"Did the Illyrian flirt with you the entire time, or just in front of me?"

"Him flirting with me had nothing to do with you." I shrugged. "I took them into the village."

"I heard." He replied. "People were reporting that you were out with them all afternoon.”

“Why were they reporting it to you?” I asked, perplexed.

My comings and goings were never his business or responsibility before.

“Probably because you were with two males that no one recognized. Caspian, or whatever his name is, draws in a bit of attention.” He laid back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“His name is Cassian,” I muttered. I knew my face was turning crimson, but I continued. “It makes sense that he would draw attention. He’s very handsome. And he’s huge. Much taller than anyone I’ve ever seen. And those wings…”

“Stop, or you’ll make me jealous.” He rolled his eyes. I laughed, and turned my attention back to the scenery.

We fell quiet for a moment, both of us watching the sun sink down over the horizon. Ian’s breath beside me was the only sound. It was peaceful… Relaxing.

“Y/N?” He asked, his voice low. “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay, shoot.” I replied popping a grape into my mouth.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about… us.” He said, “and I’ve spoken with your father already.”

He paused, watching my face. My eyebrows were knitting together as I swallowed. The grape turned to lead in my stomach.

“Spoke with my father about what?” I asked, turning to face him fully.

“I know this is sudden, but I think we’re a perfect fit. It would help strengthen the bond between my people and the Dawn Court, and… well, I’ve loved you for years.”

He sucked in a deep breath.

“I wanted to know if you’d do me the honor of becoming my wife.” He asked.

I stared at him for a few seconds, only blinking. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I shook my head once, twice, three times.

“Where in the hell is this coming from?” I asked.

“I just told you. I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently.”

“Ian… I-I can’t.” I said, scooting away from him. “We’re friends.”

“But we can be more.” He said, reaching out to take my hands. I moved further away from him. “Your father thinks it’s a great idea.”

“He said that?” My voice came out a bit strangled, and I cleared my throat in hopes of covering up my distaste. “Is that what you were doing this morning? When you spoke to him?”

“Yes. He said it when I got his blessing.”

“Don’t people usually date before getting engaged?” I asked, forcing a laugh. “Shouldn’t you have been courting me?”

“Is that not what I’ve been doing?” He asked. “We spend every day together. We eat nearly every meal together. We buy each other gifts. We watch the gods damned sunset together every evening.”

“We’re friends.” I mumbled, “What about the girl from your village?”

“We tried for a while, but it didn’t work out.” He moved closer, his wings ruffling. “I just couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“I… I need some air.” I said, shooting to my feet.

“Y/N, wait!” He called after me, but it was too late. I was running.

*****

Rhysand sat with his feet propped on the coffee table. The fire was crackling in the hearth, and he tried his best to use that to drown out the conversation that Cassian was having with Azriel. 

“Just wait til you meet her, Az.” Cassian said, sitting back in his own chair. His wings were stretched out around him.

“I’ve seen many beautiful females in my life.” Azriel muttered.

“And I guarantee that she gives all of them a run for their money.” Cassian laughed. “Even Rhys thought so.”

Azriel looked to him, then, his eyes inquisitive.

“She was very beautiful.” Rhys nodded in agreement.

The two of them turned back to their conversation, and a small, fond smile found its way to Rhysand’s lips. 

As he lifted his crystal glass to his lips, he noticed a scrap of paper in his lap. It was covered in a hurried, unfamiliar script. 

Rhysand,

Sorry for writing like this, but I wasn’t sure how else to reach you. I need your help. I can explain when you get here.

Apologetically,

Y/N

P.S. Please hurry.

Rhysand sat forward in his chair, drawing the attention of the two Illyrians across from him.

"It seems you'll be meeting her sooner than we anticipated." Rhysand said, tossing the scrap of paper to Cassian. "I'll be back soon."

[purble-turble]

Read that one “Mac and Azure kidnap Wukong together” AU idea and wrote a lil ficlet for it.

All things considered, the farmer’s life was nice. Peaceful. Relaxing, even.

Azure Lion was happy here. It wasn’t his ideal lifestyle; but it was good. The labor required to farm their food wasn’t too difficult for him (if anything, the hardest part was being gentle enough that he didn’t tear the leaves off a carrot while yanking it from the ground) and the isolation was calming.

It was home. Just for now, not forever, but it was home.

“Oy, Azure!” Macaque yelled out to him. He was holding a pot and mixing it with a spoon held by his tail. “Hurry up and get inside! I’m already halfway done with dinner over here.”

“Coming!” He called back, picking up his basket of root vegetables to join the shadow. “You know, gardening would go by a lot faster if you just had your clones do it.”

“And let you slack off all day as I do all the hard work? Nice try, Bud.”

Azure rolled his eyes before placing down the basket in the small kitchen and wandering into the bathroom to freshen up.

“All freshened up?” Macaque asked when he came back into the dining room.

“I tried to be quick about it.” Azure said as he caught the dishes Macaque tossed him, going to set the table. “Where’s Wukong?”

“That’s a dumb question,” Macaque snorted as he started bringing out the food. “He’s in the nest. I tried to take him out for awhile but he’s in another mood today.”

“Don’t be rude. You know how hard this is for him.”

“Well maybe he wouldn’t be having such a hard time if he just got with the program.”

“Macaque!”

“We’re both thinking it!“ the monkey snarled as he slammed the final, steaming pot down. “If he just got his shit together we wouldn’t even be here!”

“I know that! But the sickness in his mind-“

“Oh, again with “The Sickness”-“

“He does not know what he wants, Macaque. We must be patient with him. You know what they did to him.”

Macaque’s jaw snapped shut with a click, shifting his head to avoid eye contact. Azure Lion sighed, rounding the table to gently grip Macaque’s shoulder.

“I want him back just as much as you do. And it’s easy to blame him for what happened during his enslavement to the Emperor. But Macaque, it’s not his fault.”

“…sometimes, it feels like he’s choosing not to be himself.” Macaque mumbled, staring at the table.

“Macaque-“

“He’ll just. I’ll see him go for the throat of a demon he’s fighting or start laughing at a dumb joke or just stare down an enemy with that twinkle in his eye and for just a second he’s there.”

“I’m sorry, Macaque.” Azure Lion sighed, and Macaque’s head snapped up in shock.

“What?”

“I’ve been trapped in that scroll for so long, but you’ve been trying to find and save him for centuries. It’s easy for me to judge you for losing your temper with him but I was never put into the position you were of watching him whither away. I’m sorry.”

“…okay, yeah, same.” Macaque said, chuckling as he shrugged off Azure Lion’s hand. “I can’t get pissed off at you for just trying to help. Now let’s stop the mushy crap and get dinner started already. You mind getting Peaches? I’m gonna check to see if we have any wine left.”

“Of course.” Azure smiled, passing Macaque as he walked down the stairs. “See if we have any peach-flavored left.”

“I’ll see what I can do!”

Azure smiled before turning to the door, taking a deep breath and summoned his sword. He started unlocking the first of many locks.

Hopefully Wukong would be calm enough to have dinner without starting a fight.

Aaaaaa Anon this is freakin awesome!! Yes, thank you for sharing this I love it 😍😍😍

Such a good inclusion of Azure insisting that Wukong is not himself and needs them to save him. I adore that motivation for these yandere type villains, and it’s something I find especially fitting for the likes of Macaque and Azure.. they just want him back to the way he is supposed to be, after all~

[dyns33]

Lost

Not very proud of this one, not very original, but still another Murderdock story.

Matthew Murdock always knew where Y/N was.

His dear Y/N.

Not only had he ordered Otomo to watch her all the time, his men following her everywhere to ensure her safety, but he always had his attention on her, one ear turned in her direction to listen to her beating heart.

Despite his long training, Matt sometimes lost his temper, and one of the main reasons was when he was no longer able to hear her, because they were too far apart. Almost immediately, Otomo would reassure him by giving him Y/N's exact location, what she was doing, who she was with, and assuring him that she was not in danger. He would have shown him a picture as further evidence, if he could.

He remained quite annoyed though until he could hear her heartbeat, and again until they were in the same room. He then threw himself on her to take her in his arms, to touch her, to feel her, smell her, and to press his head against her chest to listen to this melodious sound, the most beautiful in the world.

It happened almost every day, almost becoming a habit. A ritual.

So when Matt lost his lover's heartbeat, it made him wince, but he didn't panic, patiently waiting for Otomo's call.

A minute passed.

Then two.

After ten minutes, Matt picked up his phone.

           "Where is she ?" he asked as soon as the first blade of the Hand took off.

           "...We are looking, Master Murdock."

           "You are looking. What do you mean by 'you are looking' ?I ordered you to follow her. You and your ninjas are supposed to be the best in the world. You lost her... No. No, you can't have lost her... I heard her heart, then nothing, in an instant. What happened ?!"

           "We don't know, Master. We think there is magic behind it. She disappeared in front of us."

           "Find her ! Now ! That's an order !"

When he hung up, Matt realized he was shaking.

It was really rare that he lost his temper, the Hand had taught him to keep calm, but imagining what might be happening to Y/N, he let out a scream and threw the phone at the wall, smashing it.

Then he left his office, forgetting his cane and his jacket, totally not caring about what people might think, to join Otomo and supervise him during the search. After all, no one could escape his ears and nose, and since he no longer had a phone, he preferred to be there to know immediately what was going on.

What he hadn't expected was that he still wouldn't have regained his composure when he arrived. As soon as a ninja approached him to greet him, he grabbed him by the neck and broke it. The others backed away, while Otomo kept a good distance between him and his master to talk to him.

           "I understand your disappointment, Master. We will find her."

           "Oh, I'm sure of it. The question, dear Otomo, is in what condition she'll be in. Alive ? Wounded ? D... If she's dead, Otomo, you better run, or grab a sword quickly, to clear your honour yourself, because if I catch you first, you will deeply regret it."

           "Of course, Master. I'm sure Lady Y/N is fine. I don't see who could wish her harm, you're discreet, no one knows she's important to you."

It wasn't certain. Admittedly, Matt was doing his best not to publicly show his affection for Y/N. After all, he had many enemies, and while most were so-called heroes with a ridiculous moral code that prevented them from harming those who didn't deserve it, there were also the opponents of the Hand, who could be so cruel and cold.

If any of them heard of Y/N, if they realized she was Murdock's weak spot, then he was sure they would use her.

But Matt was discreet. And he couldn't see who could have taken away his love using what looked like magic. Looked like, because when he arrived at the place of her disappearance, he felt nothing like it. There was definitely something in the air, but he couldn't figure out what. A vibe. An abnormality. It wasn't natural, unfamiliar, but he had been to places where this feeling was present.

He didn't like it. He had no idea what had happened, who was responsible, where Y/N was and if she was okay. He found himself praying for her to be okay. He hadn't prayed in years, since the death of his mother and father, the loss of his eyes, the training with Stick.

Maybe God would hear it, and be merciful, for once.

Yes, Matt Murdock wasn't perfect. He had done horrible things. But he really hadn't had an easy life. For once he was asking for something, and not even for himself, could the old bearded man up here do something ?

But for the next few hours, still nothing. Night was approaching. As a lawyer, who often followed police investigations, and also as a kidnapper, he knew that the first few hours were crucial, especially if the person who had taken Y/N had not contacted him. It could mean several things. It could be to hurt him, by making him despair. Or it had nothing to do with him, and it was possibly worse, because he knew even less what was going to happen to his darling.

He lost his temper again.

He killed several of his men who tried to hold him down, so he wouldn't destroy the entire place. Otomo ordered them to leave him, maybe because he didn't want to lose too many ninjas, or maybe because he knew it was useless and they had to respect their master's grief, no matter how hard it was. Painful, futile, but legitimate.

Y/N was not part of the Hand. She was of no use to them, she was no threat. At first, they had been afraid, that she would disturb Matt, that she would change him. Then they wanted to use her against him, but they quickly understood it was a stupid idea.

Now they were leaving them alone, seeing that she was keeping him quite calm, at least calmer than usual.

           "Otomo..." Matthew growled dangerously, turning to the first blade. "Swear to me it's not the Hand that took her."

           "I swear."

           "Hmm. But you might not know. They know you can't lie to me."

           "They have no reason to go after Lady Y/N."

           "You and I know very well that they don't need a reason to act. Call them. Now. I want to know. I need to know !"

Of course, the Hand denied any involvement, and even though he felt they were telling the truth, Matt killed two more ninjas to make it clear to them that he wouldn't forgive them if they had anything to do with it.

He killed another one, just because, then he decided to go explore the city, hoping to hear or smell something. But nothing. There was nothing. The sweet scent of Y/N was gone. Her footsteps. Her laughter. Her heartbeats.

Foggy Nelson had the misfortune to meet him and greet him. He was lucky Matt didn't kill him on the spot, only barking at him until he ran away.

This was maybe what have caught Spider Woman's attention.

           "I heard you're prowling the streets, scaring everyone."

           "Now really isn't the time, Gwendolyn."

           "... Are you looking for something ? Can I help you ?"

           "Oh, how kind. Why such generosity ? To protect people, or because you have something to blame yourself for ?" he hissed with a fake smile.

           "I just wanna be nice, you can just say no, Murderdock."

           "I don't need your help, kid. Leave me alone."

He felt her staring at him, before throwing a web and disappearing. She hadn't answered his question, but Matt didn't think she could be responsible. It wasn't her type, and if she knew about Y/N and him, she would have told him about it, having plenty of annoying questions and disapproving remarks.

After going back to see if Otomo had found anything, even though he knew full well he hadn't, and killing several ninjas, he returned home. Which was a very bad idea.

In the apartment, the absence of Y/N was even worse.

This silence. Her scent almost gone.

While he remembered the last time he prayed well enough, Matt couldn't remember when he last cried.

Before the Hand, before the Stick. He had been sad when his father died, but he hadn't shed a tear. Not for his mother either. He was already very tired from life. Crying was for children, for the weak.

He started sobbing anyway, in the middle of the living room, muttering Y/N's name as if that would be enough to bring her back, erasing the whole nightmarish situation. Very quickly, he felt ridiculous, and his anger returned. Without thinking, he proceeded to destroy the apartment. He could have destroyed everything, the building, the neighbourhood, the city, the world.

He would have killed everyone, and himself first, for her to come back. Even if he could only hold her in his arms for a few seconds.

Once he had nothing left to throw out the window or crush under his foot, totally exhausted and his eyes full of tears, he fell on the bed. Sniffling, he grabbed Y/N's pillow, held it to his face to smell all the scents, before cuddling it like a fucking kid.

He must have looked ridiculous, and if the Hand had seen him now, they'd be ashamed, but he didn't care. He missed Y/N. He was worried. He felt helpless. He didn't deserve it. He should have been able to protect her.

By praying once more to this God whom he had denied for a long time, and who never seemed to have cared about him, he fell asleep.

           "Matt."

Groaning, he hugged the pillow again. He knew that voice. That sweet voice. And this heart, very close to his ears.

           "Matt, wake up."

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Of course, he couldn't "see" anything, except the world of fire, but there was someone near him, who was touching his arm, and who smelled like Y/N, who had the voice of Y/N, who had her heartbeat.

If it was a dream, it was very realistic. Or maybe he was dead.

           "I'm dead ?" he asked softly.

           "What ? No. But what happened in the apartment ? You were in a fight ? A storm ? Are you hurt ?"

           "Stay with me."

           "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

           "Are you there ? Are you really there ?"

           "Yes, Matt. Were you worried ? Oh excuse me. It's a very weird story. I was walking down the street and all of a sudden I was somewhere else. Spider Woman tried to explain to me, a story of multiverse. There was a Spiderman, it was strange. Matt, baby, are you crying ?"

He wasn't really listening to what she was saying, too shaken to find her after a whole day of worries and fears. He hugged her tightly, still sobbing as he muttered thanks, not sure who he was thanking.

So she hadn't been taken away. She wasn't hurt, she wasn't dead. It had to do with other universes. He'd have to have a talk with Gwennie about it. He should probably thank her for helping him, but also ask her how to prevent this from happening again. If he had to destroy the little machine she carried on the handle, and which allowed her to see her silly other spider friends and her little boyfriend, he would do it without hesitation.

But for the moment, he only thought about Y/N, refusing to let go, too afraid that she would disappear again if he didn't hold her.

           "I will never leave you again. You stay with me all the time from now on."

           "I don't think that's possible, Matt." she sneered gently, stroking his hair.

           "I don't care. I'll follow you everywhere, holding your hand."

           "Not very discreet. I thought no one should know we're together."

           "... I'll kill everyone. Or we'll move to a private island."

           "You are really serious."

           "I thought I lost you." he said with a trembling voice. "Never again. I can't trust Otomo anymore, if he's ever failed his mission once. I need to be sure that you won't disappear again, otherwise I'll go crazy."

Y/N said nothing, continuing to run her hand through his hair and massage his back. He could feel her watching the destroyed room, knowing he wasn't exaggerating. He would destroy everything for good, if she disappeared again. He probably would have if she hadn't reappeared this morning. And the day that she would be hurt, the day that she would be taken from her for good, whether it was by an enemy or God, then the world ought to be very afraid.

If they knew what would happen if they touched his Y/N, then maybe it wouldn't be necessary to hide anymore. Then you'd have to be a fool to even think about approaching her, because it would be obvious that she wasn't Matt's weak point.

No, she was the last thing that made him human, that kept him calm, serene, sane, and without her, nothing could stop him.

           "I will never leave you." she promised him, kissing him, and she meant it, he could hear it. He had never doubted, he hadn't thought for a single second that she could have disappeared voluntarily. He had blind faith in his Y/N.

Now he just had to stick with her, and no one be crazy enough to try to take her from him. He would make it very clear to them, and then they could be happy, without any fear.

[koiyan-hades-kid-with-a-system]

What Koiyan thinks of campers and vise versa (Cannon Campers) Interview Style

Percy Jackson:

uncle cousin????

he often begs me to make blue food because store bought blue food dont hit the same

tries to do sass offs with kacia but she has disney hades genes so he loses them quite frequently

quite tired of his dumb ass getting into trouble but as he is the protagonist, what am i supposed to do????

i dont interact with him much but hes a good kid

His Thoughts:

Niece cousin??????? the family tree is a circle at this point-

Best. Savory. Blue. Food. Ever.

Why cant their alters let me win a sass off just once 😭

She has contemplated putting a child backpack harness on me because of the shit I do

Whenever someone fronts they look so gods damn cool bc of the main host body and the physical changes are kinda hybrid like are so cool

Annabeth Chase:

shes a nice kid

often too analytical and blunt tho-

one time she said in the most eloquent way possible that i looked like shit and i stayed in my room the whole day bc of that

love you tho girl you the best at keeping this camp together

Her Thoughts:

Koiyan has been at this camp the longest out of all of the campers so she knows some things.

Her alters are pleasant beings.

She’s a bit sensitive, but I think it’s a good trait of hers to get all of her emotions out because of the trauma that caused them to have DID in the first place.

Somehow she can read even though she has the most godly blood out of all of us.

She’s an enigma.

Grover Underwood:

goat boi!!!!

one of my fave saytrs bc the others are creeps to me

sweet boi but he is often weary of me and tries to get out of situations with me in it and it makes me sad :(

His thoughts:

Scariest person I have met.

Their alters are sometimes unhinged and Klee most definitely scares me-

Once, I saw them transform into their headspace self and the crow feathers turned into SWORDS.

HER FEATHERS ARE ACTUALLY SWORDS

SHE CAN SNEEZE AND A FEATHER CAN SHOOT OUT AND TRANSFORM AND KILL SOMEONE.

Cool and scary at the same time so I kinda don’t want them to kill me

Luke Castellen:

Traitor.

but before then, he was a good kid

i mean he had the right idea, wrong execution

he comforted me during the time when i was really feeling down because of a prosecutor doing something.

i just wished he went down the right path

His Thoughts:

I kinda miss them.

Shes a nice kid and her alters are sweethearts, well as sweet as they can be.

The prosecutors are a piece of work though.

Wait what do you mean she has new alters?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BILL IS BACK???

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHES NOT FULLY FRONTING ANYMORE?????

Clarrise La Rue:

the fact that i relate to her is scary

we both have negligent dads and we both want them to acknowledge us and be proud of us.

and temper

we both have a temper

Her Thoughts:

Her brother got my dad on his side, respectable.

I don’t know them that well but I have seen her being belittled and mocked for her DID, which she cant control.

I will fight to make her safe because mocking someone for their mental state is not ok.

Niccolò (Nico) di Angelo:

baby brother!!!!!!!!

he is way to self destructive sometimes tho

hes one of dads favorites but i have no hard feelings about it

She’s lying. Shes crying about the fact she will never have the same fatherly love as her siblings do. -Macaque

sometimes i wish he could not look at me with contempt because i was the one that got reincarnated and not bianca

His Thoughts:

I love her but shes annoying

Tried to force me into force me into those slutty outfits and they had to restrain me to do so

I don’t know why she got a reincarnation system

Sometimes I want to find her torch of life and extinguish it for good when she gets too ‘mother-y’ and annoying

I wanna give her light to Bianca

Thats a bit too harsh but I do love her, just, not much

Wait, what do you mean she can hear this?

Wait Koiyan no- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it-

Percy: I’ll go comfort her if Cory isn’t already doing that yet.

Zagreus: I’ll book another family therapy session again.

Will Solace:

my soon to be brother in law!

me and him have fun talking through our kazoos and trying to understand what we’re saying

we kazooified so many musicals-

His Thoughts:

Kazoo buddy!!!!!

She gave me my hell cat!

She’s amazing and so cool!

I wish Nico could see that in her though…