#tw unwanted touch

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Hey! I was looking through the serial killer au tag, and found this post! X

I was wondering what this line meant: Such as forgetting to keep their hands to themselves after taking advantage of his kindness.

It's okay if you wanna keep it a secret for now, but I'm nosy lol

part of me is hesitant to explain, but it's no fun if everything about the AU is kept a secret >w<

But this does cover a serious topic involving unwanted touch and attempted assault.

Some time after Sun and Moon got their upgraded bodies they were talk of the town for a few days. Most wanted to check them out, either approaching them or dragging them into places to show them off. At one point the latter happened, and it was at a bar.

After a while a girl who was clearly drunk was looking for someone who could walk her home. She asks Sun specifically. And Sun, only wanting to help, agreed to make sure she got there safely. She said she didn't live far and that they could get there on foot. She wasn't local and was staying at the inn.

The whole time she holds onto him until they get there. He assumes that's the end of it, but then she claims she needs help getting up to her room on the third floor. He feels a bit off about it at this point but he helps her there anyway.

(tw: topic of attempted assault below the cut)

He gets her to the door to her room when she suddenly pins him to the wall; he can easily break free but he's more shocked by what was happening to do so. She speaks in a drunken sultry tone about thanking him for his help and wanting to reward him, and she starts feeling him up. Her hands go to places he doesn't want them to go. She even tries kissing him.

He snaps out of the shock and is scared shitless by this, pushes her away and runs out of the building and straight to his and Moon's apartment. He never sees the girl again as she leaves town the next day.

Sun never told Moon about this incident until years later (still before Detective Y/N returns) because the girl was absolutely wasted and likely didn't know what she was doing; that and he was afraid Moon would kill her. When Moon does find out after Sun suffers a panic attack at a resident's party, he is livid. He's pissed at the girl for doing it, not caring she was drunk, and pissed at Sun for keeping this a secret because they always told each other everything.

But yeah. Because of this incident, he doesn't like going to gatherings that serve alcohol, nor does he like going into places that serve it. It's also why he's not interested at all in a partner.

[promptspa]

Heiii !! How are you ? Wanted to request a continuation for random prompt 88 if you want please

Request #8 - Part 1 Part 3 Hi, Anon! I'm doing good, I hope you are as well.

Villain listened to the gentle breathing beside them, focusing their gaze on the roof. They had given up nights ago on trying to imagine the master criminal beside them as someone else. As Hero. The two were too different, like the sun to the moon and fire to water.

Supervillain used to be so appealing, even without all the strings they had attached to people like puppets. At first, they were everything Villain had thought they had wanted. Bright, clingy, energetic, protective... But then the red flags started to wave.

Insane, manipulative, boisterous, possessive...

So, the criminal had fled to their one escape from Supervillain's constant watch: their work. It would be cheating, they'd insist when the bigger villain offered to help or just do the heist for them. So, they absorbed themself into the dangerous field, going into action whenever they got the chance to.

And they met Hero because of it, and slowly everything slid into place. The bond Villain lacked with Supervillain was suddenly there and everything felt so right and so much fun. Sneaking out at ungodly hours of the night became normal routine.

Hero was everything they needed. Calm, understanding, patient yet so adventurous and encouraging. They kept Villain's heart from shattering when things got too stressful, when they felt like they were being watched. Hero was a safety net and the person Villain wanted more than anything in the world, and the person who made them brave enough to leave Supervillain.

Safe, loving and just perfect.

Shaking their head, Villain rubbed the stinging feeling from their eyes as they slowly sat up, careful to not jostle the arm circled around their middle too much. With practice they slipped away from Supervillain's unwanted embrace, making their way out of the bedroom and into the living room.

The early morning sun draped the room and kitchenette in a warm glow, the sunrise barely visible from the huge windows covering most of the wall. The apartment was much too high up in Villain's opinion, but they knew why it was chosen. They wouldn't get down three floors before Supervillain caught them once more.

Villain strolled over get a better look at the view, trying to peer around the towering city buildings for a bigger glimpse at the sun. Instead, their eye caught something else; a familiar silhouette flying in the warm coloured sky. Quickly, they forced themself away from the glass, only making eye contact for a fleeting moment.

They were definitely in luck, as Supervillain walked out of the bedroom just as they moved to start the coffee machine. They really didn't need a lecture about loyalty and threats so early in the morning.

As soon as they had placed a cup under the machine, arms were laced tightly around Villain's waist and kisses were peppered across the back of their head. They forced their shoulders to not stiffen, uncomfortably leaning back against Supervillain's chest.

"Good morning, my love." The master criminal's voice in their ear sparks a sharp pang in their skull and they stare at the coffee machine with malice. The caffeine certainly wouldn't help them with the headache, but it would for keeping up energy to deal with the figure behind them all day.

Villain murmured something akin to a 'good morning', which Supervillain looked much too pleased at. A relieved sigh was nearly tempted out of the smaller criminal as their arms slipped away from them. Thank the stars Supervillain actually had work to do today. Pressing one last kiss to the side of Villain's face, they dismissed themself back into the bedroom to change before heading out of the apartment.

The sound of the door shutting calmed the rapid pace of Villain's heart, an exhausted breath leaving their lips as they slumped forward, mug of coffee now cradled tightly in their hands. The warmth on their palms was soothing and a distraction from the bitter cold left by Supervillain's affections.

And then there was the sound of shattering glass. A shattering window.

The coffee mug dropped from their now shaking grip, crashing against the marble counters. Villain stared at the large window and the web-like cracks now spiraling along the glass. All caused by one punch from one person.

The door clicked open once more. Another punch to the window, now more... panicked.

What the hell was Hero doing?

[ghoulofatook]

For the ask game: your crush will never love you! Silco and reader (you can choose which one loves the other)

Your wish is my command, thanks for the ask! 💖 Hope you dig it ✨

Silco x Botanist Reader (no pronouns so can be read as genderneutral in this fic but may continue later as female reader)

Warnings: Obsessive Silco, Unwanted touch, threat of murder, unrequited love, messed up dude tryna not have feelings.

Inhospitable Ground

Silco lazily strolls through the artfully curated Cultivair gardens, secretly hoping to catch a passing glimpse of you as you go about your day.

He had been putting this visit off for as long as he could manage, finding it a frustrating challenge in self control to stay away. You always drew him back, despite his best efforts to excavate you from his thoughts. They eventually drifted back on you, slithering into the forefront of his mind as dreams, passing thoughts, even people who might have been you for a moment, glimpsed from behind in The Last Drop.

He meanders down through a plant lined hallway inhaling the sweet earthy scent of the place rounding a corner to finally confront the damage he had done.

The grand meeting room where he had threatened the chembarrons with his ornate little box of filled with noxious gas. It had been a small oversight to discover in the aftermath that it had withered every plant in the room.

He knew how much you loved that garden, it was your pride and joy and he had slaughtered it in so few moments to posture over subhuman scum. It was too late by the time he realised what he had done. How as the plants shrivelled and died, so with them had any hope of his affections for you ever being returned.

Standing there now in the empty room, arms behind his back, he observes how you'd removed all the death, how new soil now lay in all the garden beds. It must have been an immense job.

His brow knits as he frowns at the unfortunate mess of the situation. There would be no remedying it now.

He hears a thump behind him and turns to see you there in the doorway, a plant dropped at your feet.

Your mouth drops open in shock, eyes wide for a split second before they narrow and all the fires of hell fill them.

"How dare you show your face back here." The venom in your impulsive words could kill ten men.

Silco turns fully towards you, his expression carefully set to considering neutrality.

"Just because you own this garden doesn't give you the RIGHT to slaughter it!" You take a step forward over the dropped plant towards him.

"Some of those carnivorous flowers were the LAST specimens of their kind. They were HUNDREDS of years old." Tears of rage start to line your eyes as you continue pointing an accusing finger at him. The smart part of your brain is begging you to stop but you’re far to angry to listen.

"You should leave" you’re choked up now, hating how your voice quavers as you look up at him.

In that moment his heart aches for you, wishing you would smile or say something kind instead. But the hateful rage in your eyes reminds him that he is a monster. He remembers what he had become, what he had sacrificed of himself for Zaun. He allows the darkness inside himself to bloom in his chest, curling protectively around the pain.

He exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring with his distaste.

"I will not leave my Cultivair." He says coldly, steeling his gaze to fix on your own and striding forward with terrifying purpose.

"If you continue to speak to me like this." He lunges forward and grabs your face so quickly, leaning down over you like an eagle swooping down on a rabbit.

"I'll bury you in that garden bed, so your bones feed the plants you so love." He growls into your ear.

If you wont love him, fear and hate are as close as can be, he decides.

You squirm, disgusted by his very touch. Silco smirks devilishly at the feeling of your warmth pressed against him.

"Let me go Silco" you whisper through gritted teeth. Skin crawling at the lingering threat of his body pressed to your own.

He withdraws slowly, unwrapping his long limbs from around you.

Taking a measured step back you turn to pick up the plant that you had dropped, grateful the roots were bound with damp heshen and that it was a hardy specimen. You clutch it to your chest and turn back to face the awful creature before you.

Silco watches you slowly turn with the lovely green plant in your arms. You're so beautiful, so gentle and caring in your work. The feelings it divulges twist and roil inside him, the only external tell is a single deep breath.

"Why did you come?" You ask, trying to hide behind some semblance of professionalism after your shock induced seething rage had spilled forth.

"I'd like a small garden with a pond in the office." He proclaims, slipping easily into the flow of business. "I need somebody to design, build and plant it for me."

You rush to cut him off.

"Bryta is skilled in garden design, I'll send her over at once." You say confidently.

He snorts a cruel half laugh shaking his head. It’s a cute attempt to distance yourself but he won’t be having it.

"I don't want Bryta, She is not the head botanist."

Your heart sinks as you realise you won't be able to get out of this.

"No, no, petal. I want my head botanist herself to make me the best garden money can buy. No expenses spared. You can plant, whatever you like."

You look up suspiciously but you have to admit you're lured in by his generous offer. It was a dream job, despite being promised to you by the devil at the crossroads.

"Help fund the purchase of plants to replace your mess too." You dare to demand. Forcing yourself to stand straight and eyeball him.

He holds your eyes for a beat, glaring at you. You barely notice you’re not breathing.

"All you need do is ask." He says before turning on his heel and sauntering out of the room.

"I expect to see you tomorrow" he calls from the hallway and you suddenly remember to breathe. Pinching the bridge of your nose you move the plant to rest on your hip.

You could not despise him more.

✨ Thank you for reading ✨

Tag list: @angxlictexrs

[inktheartsyfreak]

I don't think I said that before, but we have an Error Sans in our system too. He is quiet, but when he is not he is usually at least midly annoyed at the people around us (and probably at us too lmao). He is nice though. The local emo cousin.

Now uhh tw unwanted touch? its sfw. idk how to tw

We have a sibling who really likes to hug and kiss people even if the person says no and he gets really pissed at them when they do that to other ppl. He defends very much people who don't like being touched. I know that's what ppl should do, but that's something he does that really makes me think about him and how people view him.

[s-acrificium]

verses! Dion

“An oracle of a different kind. I’m the right hand of Bahamut, and he uses his vessel as he sees fit…”

no matter how much it revults me…

Dion Lesage, son of a prominent man who utilizes connections to many high ranking families. Sylvestre Lesage is descended from those who worshipped Bahamut, just as the Lucis Caelum family worshipped Etro. Power to glimpse the future, skill in war and conquest, might and dominion is what the Lesage family craved and Bahamut gave it to them. However, after the war of the eikons and the others turning their backs on Bahamut (not wanting to deal with his shit). In the Lesage line, they got afflicted with scorge and the people were turning left and right. Crying out for help, the dragon told them he needed a vessel. Those Chosen of Bahamut, could take on his power and given an ability similar to the oracle. Absorbing the scorge into their body…through intimate touch.

Dion is the latest chosen, and he is used as a grand soldier in protecting Sanbreque or being used by the nations his own have friendly ties with. He has known since his powers awakened that he was nothing but his father’s tool. Nothing but a weapon to be used. A container for the scorge that people made him take as some ritual. he stopped fighting it years ago. The sickness and pain is unimaginable by those not given this power…everyday he feels himself waning. Everyday he wishes for escape.

He wishes Etro would just take him.

He is Dion Lesage. And he has become ruthless in battle, and distant in heart, for no one wants him for the man he is. All they see is bahamut’s weapon. The body who they touch and takes the scorge from them. He is ….no one.

[hells-greatest-performers]

So Alastor, can you nurse?

Alastor: *not looking down*

Lucifer: *checking and massaging his chest* Nope. No milk. Maybe because your pregnancy was so fast?

Alastor: *mortified that Lucifer was touching him* That could be it…

Lucifer: *ponders* Well the baby will need formula. I can go grab some! *poofs out of room*

Alastor: *still in petrified state after being touched like that*

[s-creations]

Never Mess With a Warrior’s Emotions

Macaque gets a little more than he bargained for when he agreed to face a possessed Wukong head on. 

( I put it in the tags, but just a warning here as well. There are moments of unwanted touching at the beginning of this story. It's not that severe, but I don't know how to tag it other than that. )

Fandom: LEGO Monkie Kid       Rating: Teen and Up Audiences         Relationships: Shadowpeach, SunWukong/Macaque,       Warnings/Additional Tags: Other characters are mentioned, be warned, there is unwanted touching at the beginning of this, don’t know how else to word it, possession, hurt/comfort, happy ending, if i need additional tags let me know

The plan was pretty straight forward. Or as straight forward as it can get dealing with a skeleton demon. All Macaque was worried about was his part. Keeping Wukong distracted enough for MK to get the staff. Simple. But the Shadow Warrior knew it was easier said than done. Wukong was holding himself back for the kid’s sake when they’d first fought all those months ago. In talking with MK, he and Nezha also came to the realization how strong Wukong truly was. Almost winning against the Lady Bone Demon, before…

 Macaque shook his head. Now was not the time to worry about that, he couldn’t change the past. He had to focus on getting MK to the top of that mech as fast as possible. Clearing his head to prepare himself for the soon-to-begin fight between him and the newly possessed Wukong. 

 “Come on kid!” The Shadow Warrior called out from the opened van door. MK gave one last look to his companions before joining Macaque. Both transforming to birds and taking to the sky. 

 Just as they thought, getting the staff back from Lady Bone Demon’s hold was not going to be that easy. MK was just barely able to dodge Wukong’s first attack, Macaque able to catch the kid before he was quite literally blown off the mech. Hiding behind sarcasm and smooth words, Macaque’s heart raced seeing Wukong take a fighting stance. He gave the call and MK responded, dashing forward, appearing to be making an attempt for the staff again. Macaque held off for as long as he could before blocking the attack meant for MK.

 Even just standing there, holding the other monkey back, was a struggle. Macaque knowing he had a task ahead of him. “Alright MK…I hope that staff is worth it!”

 He flung both himself and Wukong back. Holding back a wince as his back connected hard with the cold metal. Pushing away the (self-inflicted) pain to kick Wukong off and knocking the golden monkey further from MK. Every hit seemed to actually send shockwaves through Macaque’s body. The black furred monkey knew that Wukong wasn’t using his full strength at this point. Which just made the feeling even more worrisome. 

 “Why isn’t he fighting with his full strength? Is he just…toying with me?” Macaque growled as he went to deliver his first hit. Shocked when he actually connected, sending Wukong into the mountain side. “Maybe…she’s spread further than I originally thought? If she’s unable to get Wukong to actually fight me, then-”

 That thought quickly ended when a chill traveled up Macaque’s back. Just registering that Wukong was right there before he was slammed into the ground. The possessed being following closely to pin the Shadow Warrior to the ground. 

 Macaque struggled, which only caused Wukong to press down harder. “L-Let…me go!”

 No reply, the golden monkey didn’t even move. Continuing to stare down at his trapped prey. The Shadow Warrior growled, snapping at the Great Sage. “What, did you break? Do something! Hey lady, did your toy break! Why aren’t you-”

 “Macaque?”

 The black-furred monkey almost swallowed his tongue he’d stopped talking so fast. Wide eyes stared up at Wukong. Noting the other’s face had softened considerably, the harsh glare no longer in place. His eyes still held a lingering bit of blue, but Macaque could see flickers of gold showing on occation. Even with these changes, Wukong made no move, still keeping the Shadow Warrior pinned. Macaque had his guard up.

 “Wukong…haven’t heard your voice in awhile. How are you feeling?”

 “...Amazing.”

 “I- Really? That’s a little hard to believe.” 

 “Our Lady has taken away all my pain.”

 Macaque faltered at that. “Is…that so. What pain would that be?”

 “My mistakes, the faults that rested on my shoulder, they’re no longer mine. My mind’s been freed from those burdens, I no longer think of them.”

 “...How thoughtful…and what of MK? Pretty sure that kid’s dealing with what you left behind. You really want that resting on your shoulders.”

 “MK…” Wukong laughed, but it wasn’t the sound Macaque remembered. It wasn’t warm and inviting. It was quiet and cold. “MK will join us soon enough! Our Lady is a kind individual, she’ll allow us to live on as her soldiers-”

 “Wukong, this isn’t you! Stop talking like this, you know what the Lady Bone Demon is capable of, she’s not going to let any of us live.”

 “Our Lady-”

 “Stop saying that,” Macaque growled, “I don’t work for her.”

 “But you do, your debt has not been repaid. You still have much work to do, My Shadow.” 

 Macaque felt the air get sucked from his lungs. Eyes widening, from shock or fear he couldn’t tell, as he stared up at Wukong. He hadn’t heard that name in so long. Heart hammering with joy upon hearing it once more, but he crushed that feeling quickly. “Don’t…call me that.”

 “I thought you liked it when I did?”

 “This isn’t you.”

 “Come with me, My Precious Shadow.”

 “Stop talking.”

 “Our Lady can take away your pain.”

 “Please stop…”

 “We can be together again, after so many centuries.”

 Macaque had his eyes shut, breathing deeply trying to keep himself together. The words were so soft, so welcoming, but he knew they were empty. The Lady Bone Demon must have dug into Wukong’s memories, found out about their…past lives. Using that as some sort of sick leverage against him. But he wasn’t going to fall for it. He wasn’t. Wukong wouldn’t even look his way, let alone say those things. Not now, not after everything they’ve been through.

 He flinched, feeling a hand cup his face. Macaque realized that one of his own hands was free. Taking advantage, he let out a growl as he threw a punch. But it never made contact. Wukong caught it easily and pinned it down once more. Moving to have both pinned by one of the golden’s own. 

 Macaque attempted to turn away from the gentle touches. Shivering weakly, knowing he didn’t want this, but it had been so long…

“I’ve missed you, My Shadow.”

 Macaque responded by trying to bite at the hand. Missing and being given a harsh slap. Head ringing from the sudden impact, he couldn’t fight back as a hand gripped the back of his head. Macaque hissing as he attempted to move, legs digging into the dirt. He let out a noise of complaint as lips harshly clashed into his. Shivering, in disgust and pleasure, as Wukong’s tongue was forced into Macaque’s mouth. Thinking quickly, the black-furred monkey bit down hard. 

 Wukong pulled back quickly. Glaring down at Macaque as he spat blood onto the dirt. “My patience is running thin.”

 “You try that again and I’ll bite it off. I don’t care if you’re possessed.”

 “But I’m giving you what you’ve wanted for so long. Haven’t you missed me? I have…I’ve missed you so much.” 

 “Stop talking, this isn’t you Wukong!” 

 “You were always fearful of opening up, weren’t you? Afraid I would hurt you…that I would leave.”

 “You did, you did leave me! You left me for dead, you never came back for me!” Macaque held his tongue, wanting to shout this, but knowing it would affect nothing. He twitched, shutting his eyes tightly as he felt lips pressed against his cheeks. Wukong slowly moved down to nip and kiss at the Shadow Warrior’s neck, who couldn’t help but shiver. “Stop this…”

 “I’ve missed you so much. Everything about you-”

 “S-Stop…”

 “Holding you close, our quiet conversations at night, talking about our future together.”

 “Please stop.”

 “You always made the most adorable chirps when I was able to take you by surprise. You were clingy, I wasn’t able to go anywhere without you following…but I loved that. Because it made me feel like you’d always stay with me.”

 “Wukong…”

 “Don’t you want that back? I do, I want you here with me, by my side once more. Please Macaque…let me love you again.”

 The words were sweet, but dripped into his ear like poison. Macaque wasn’t sure if it was left over magic that the Lady Bone Demon had over him. Or if his wanting heart was being won over by the sweet, empty promises. But it didn’t matter how hard Macaque tried to pull back, he felt himself losing. 

 Macaque didn’t fight back this time when he was pulled into another kiss. Didn’t shy away from the gentle touches that graced his cheek and neck. When his hands were released, instead of pushing the other away, he instead pulled Wukong close. Their tails wrapped together as they pressed closer. 

 Macaque was falling hard once again. That harsh voice of telling him to stop, stop this, this is wrong! was continually pushed further back. Seeming to ignore the chilled air that had begun to enter his lungs the more this continued. His racing thoughts started to quiet down. 

 All he needed to focus on were the gentle whispers from another.

 Focus on the comfort from the other, the warmth (chill) coming from Wukong. 

 Allow himself to sink further into the calm quiet…

 Macaque’s ear twitched hearing a cry sound a distance away. It…sounded familiar. Where had he heard it before? The ground shook, pulling the Shadow Warrior further out of his stupor. He was doing something important…something to do with…

 Another cry sounded and this time, Macaque knew where he’d heard that from. “MK.”

 “It’ll be alright, My Shadow, he’ll join us soon.” Wukong’s voice sounded wrong, a tinge of her voice coming through. 

 “No…No, this is wrong- Get off me! Stop this, Wukong, stop letting her use you like this!” Macaque reached up to swipe, landing an attack over the Great Sage’s left eye. Wukong let out a cry of pain as he stumbled back. Cradling the injured eye that was freely bleeding. Macaque was back on his feet just as fast, breathing heavily as he attempted to regain his focus. Mind still holding a little bit of fog. 

 Wukong let out a low, warning growl as he pulled his hands away. Three clean claw marks running over his eye, but thankfully not enough for it to be lost. The golden monkey let out a soft laugh. One that made Macaque’s fur stand on end. “Oh…My Precious Shadow… An eye for an eye, is that where we are now? How poetic…”

 “I’m not falling for this again. MK needs my help and-” Macaque let out a gasp as a hand was instantly wrapped around his neck. Clawing desperately at it as he tried to suck air into his lungs. 

 “You lost your chance at a given path. One where your end would have been far less painful.” Wukong had fallen quiet, stoic once more. Instead, Lady Bone Demon’s voice was the only thing heard. Echoing in Macaque’s head. “I gave you what you’ve longed for the most. I simpler time where it was just the two of you-”

 “You can’t erase centuries of…of turmoil with just a few simple words,” Macaque hissed back, “I know better than that.” 

 “...Then you shall suffer, just as the rest of them.”

 ____________________

 The day was won. 

 The city was in ruin, there was a pile of scrap metal lying around the mountain range, and there’s a lot of physical/mental/emotional damage to deal with. But right now, all were content to just enjoy their food in peace. MK was clearly exhausted, dark shadows under his eyes, but was smiling widely. Content with the people surrounding him. Mei and Redson were practically glued to each other’s side, the demon teen going so far as to rest his head on the dragon teen’s shoulders. Nezha, the being covered in the most wrappings while sitting around the fire, was content to just watch and listen while everyone celebrated. The child, once possessed by Lady Bone Demon, had color returning to her cheeks, a wide smile resting on her face.

 All were gathered around the warmth of the campfire. All…except for two. 

 Macaque couldn’t speak on behalf of Wukong, but the Shadow Warrior wasn’t feeling much for being social. His mind and heart were still heavy, not wanting to share his experiences during the final fight. As far as anyone was concerned, he’d held his own against the possessed Monkey King long enough to weaken the hold over him to allow Wukong to break free. They didn’t need to know of his…slip up.

 So he’d taken to a nearby tree, hidden by the leaves as he ate. Content with just watching the group below him. His own bowl had been finished only a few minutes after being given. Resting at the base of the tree he now sat in. He’d return it later, but he just wanted to remain in his hideaway for a few moments longer.

 In the back of his mind, a nagging voice told him that he should be out looking for Wukong. The golden monkey had disappeared the moment everyone was accounted for and settled in. Macaque wasn’t even sure if the other had grabbed food before fleeing. But the Shadow Warrior wasn’t comfortable with finding Wukong. His stomach still churned and his head hurt thinking about the other monkey. 

 However, he wasn’t going to get his way that evening. No more than a few minutes after having this thought did MK appear. Knocking on the tree while he stood at the base of it. Macaque let out a sigh before dropping down, offering a tight smirk. “What’s up kid?”

 “Um, so, you have good hearing, right?”

 That was…a strange question. But Macaque played it off. “Sure do. Missing something?”

 “I was going to ask if you could find Monkey King.” MK was looking away towards the surrounding forest, missing the way Macaque winced. The black furred monkey’s tail swishing anxiously. “I haven’t seen him and…and I’m really worried.” 

 “You gonna talk to him? I can search him out pretty-”

 “I was actually hoping you could talk to him? Please?” 

 Macaque faltered at that. “Me? I…don’t think that’d be a good idea kid. You know the Great Sage and I…”

 “You worked together, just now! You helped me get him back,” Macaque felt his skin crawl at that, “You…You know him better than I do. And…”

 “And? Come on kid, you’re not really making that good of an argument here.”

 “...I’m afraid to be around him right now.” Macaque was thankful for his sharp hearing because MK barely spoke, barely opened his mouth. The teen appeared like his age now. Arms crossed over himself, looking away fully from the monkey now. Looking…small.

 Of course…of course the kid would still be feeling the effects of everything they’d been forced to face. It would probably be a long time before MK could look at his mentor and not think back to all the moments he was almost handed his end by the person he looked up to. To the person he cared about and who cared about him in return. To have that trust and comfort shattered…

 Well, let’s just say Macaque knew what MK was feeling. Even if the monkey’s fall out was far more damaging. 

 “Okay, fine, I’ll go find the missing Sage. Make sure he hasn’t run off again.”

 Wrong thing to say, regretting it the moment he saw MK wince. But it was wiped away and replaced with a wide smile. “Thanks Macaque.”

 “Yeah, yeah, just get back with the rest of your little family. And get some more to eat, you’re looking skinny.”

 MK replied back by sticking out his tongue, dodging a playful swipe from the other, and grabbing the discarded bowl before running back to the group. 

 With that matter settled, Macaque made his way into the forest. Once he knew he was hidden well in the foliage, he let the glamour fall away. Six ears, each a color of magenta, blue, and green respectfully, twisted and turned. Fluttering as they sought out a familiar sound. One he’d heard plenty of times before. 

 Macaque perked up, ears facing towards the steady beat of a heart. Eyes opened as he followed the strong sound. Passing through the planets easily as he made his way closer. He eventually found himself nearing a river bank. The soothing sound of the running water unable to drown out the steady beating. Resting at the edge, back facing Macaque, was Wukong. The heavy armor off, sleeves from the undergarments had been torn off and were now crumpled next to the golden monkey. 

 Even from a distance, there was a heaviness to Wukong’s stance. Shoulders slumped, unaware of his surroundings. Macaque didn’t even see an ear twitch when he drew closer. In the rippling water was the reflection of the Great Sage. Looking tired, golden eyes not holding their normal luster for life, Wukong seemed to be glaring at that version of himself. Not looking up as Macaque sat next to him. The silence stretched on between them. 

 “...Do you remember the first time we met?” Macaque voiced quietly, eyes landing on Wukong’s reflection. “You were…being an idiot. Even before your abilities, you were a bleeding heart. Keeping younger ones safe from some predator… I had to step in because you took on way more than you could deal with… I think that’s what I was drawn to. You doing what you thought was right, no matter the consequences… Heh, probably why we got into so many fights with other people.”

 “Is this supposed to be a pep talk.” Wukong growled out, now glaring at the water. 

 “Eh, kind of. More of I didn’t like the quiet. Kind of weird to not have you talking my ears off.”

 “What do you want Macaque?”

 “Nothing, really. Truth be told I’m only out here looking for you because the kid wanted me to.”

 That caused a reaction. Wukong’s gaze broke away from his reflection to look at Macaque’s, worry and fear weighing heavily in his eyes. “Is MK alright?”

 “He’s been better, we all have. But if you’re so concerned, you could go talk to him.”

 “...I can’t…not right now anyway.” 

 “Okay, fair. Nice fashion statement by the way.” 

 “I felt constricted.” 

 “Fair part two.” Macaque’s ears twitched as they fell quiet. Really hating how much Wukong wasn’t acting like…well, like Wukong. The Monkey King was loud and boisterous. This quiet was alarmingly unnerving, Macaque feeling jitter from it. “So, crazy past few days right? Who could have guessed it, right? Better be happy you found a successor that could handle a lot. Fast thinker and quiet the man of words, when the situation calls for it. Did you know that-”

 Macaque faltered when Wukong gave a harsh sob. Arms wrapping around himself and he bowed, forehead almost touching the muddied ground. The Shadow Warrior panicking, hands hovering nervously over the distraught form. “Wukong? Hey, this- are you okay? Did I say something? Was honestly just trying to lighten the mood. Figured you’d be happy to hear how MK did-”

 “I saw everything.” Wukong choked out, clawing at his arms. 

 “...Wukong.”

 “I saw everything and I couldn’t stop myself. It was like I was chained up in my own mind and my actions were displayed to me like some movie. I came so close, so many times, to killing MK. It had taken everything to not land those blows. Every time I held back, she whispered how soft I’d become, how weak. Telling me that if I really cared, I would be able to break free.”

 “You did.”

 “Yeah, eventually! But I’d done so much damage already! I betrayed Mei, I hurt Redson in hopes of keeping MK safe. As if damaging one would make sure I could spare the kid. And MK…jeez, MK. Whatever trust that had been left before I left was gone. He wouldn’t even look at me during the final fight. Not that I could blame him… Why would you even want to give a passing glance to someone who tried to kill him so many times?”

 “...That wasn’t you Wukong, you know that.”

 “It doesn’t make it hurt any less… I keep thinking that, maybe if I had reached out before, asked for help when I could, it wouldn’t have turned out like this. That MK wouldn’t be hurt. That everyone could trust me. …That my secrets could still lie with me.”

 Macaque perked up at that. “Secrets?”

 Wukong laughed weakly. “Don’t act coy… She made me spill my heart to you.” 

 The Shadow Warrior swallowed hard, facing away slightly. “...I thought…she was just… I thought it was just a ploy to lower my defenses. To try and bring me back to her side.”

 “I think that was the original idea. Then she found my deeper thoughts and just…she made me say everything I’d hope to say to you one day. You know, when we weren’t at each other’s throats.” Wukong trailed off, still hunched over. 

 Macaque clenched his fists, suddenly torn by what’s been said. “...You’re saying this as if I’ve forgiven you.”

 “I don’t expect you to forgive me, that wasn’t the point. I know I played everything off. What happened between us. What I’d…done. But I wanted you to know that I felt grief, every day, since I lost you. Losing you hurt more than anything I had felt before and I knew there was no coming back from it. The first time my actions…made me feel sick.” 

 “I was trying to save you.”

 “I didn’t…want to be rescued.”

 Macaque’s head snapped over quickly. “What the hell? You were being tortured-”

 “I was being disciplined.”

 “Wukong-”

 “You said it yourself, I did things without thought no matter the consequences. Not everything I did was for the right reasons and I think I knew that. After the mountain…I wanted to change. I knew I had to change or else I would become something I hated. When you…tried to pull me back, when you tricked my companions, I was angry.”

 “And I got the brunt of all that anger.”

 “...Yes.”

 Macaque huffed, looking back to the river. He allowed a moment's pause before continuing. “Being alone for so long, it gave me time to think. When I approached you, it was for selfish reasons. I had the front of freeing you and it was true. But…I also missed you. And when I heard you were off on this adventure, that you were free, and you didn’t think to even find me… I was crushed. It felt like I had been just tossed aside. So, I guess I also lashed out because of anger too.”

 “Heh…guess we really were meant for each other.”

 “The sun and the moon.”

 Wukong laughed softly. “I remember that story… It was one of my favorites.” 

 “Because it starred you.”

 “And you too! Don’t just put this on me.” Wukong leaned over to gently push Macaque with a weak smile. To which the Shadow Warrior replied with a smirk. “...Do you think we could ever get back to where we once were?”

 “No…but that doesn’t mean we can reach for something new.” 

 “...Don’t get my hopes up Macaque.”

 “Then don’t act like you’re the only one who wants this.” Macaque felt his cheeks warm up, pointedly turning away, feeling Wukong’s eyes on him. “Don’t make it weird-”

 “You loooove me.”

 “Don’t you dare-”

 “You caaaaare about me.”

 “Wukong, I will take it back-”

 “You woooorry about m-” Wukong let out a small ‘mmph!’ when lips pressed against him. Shock wearing off and he desperately kissed back. Uncaring as he was moved away from the bank. Being laid down, Macaque now positioned over him, never breaking away. When the other pulled back, Wukong opened his eyes again. Letting out a small laugh. “Your ears…I haven’t seen them in so long.” 

 “Well, had to find you somehow.” Was the simple reply. But he didn’t argue when hands reached up to scratch behind both sets, unable to hold back a purr. 

 “So cute!”

 “Stop being weird…”

 Wukong only let out a laugh, nuzzling under Macaque’s chin before initiating another kiss. 

 The sun had started to disappear when the two returned to the camp. Trying to appear casual as they left the foliage. Wukong was immediately filled with an excited teen, MK beaming as he wrapped his arm around his mentor. Who faltered, but eventually returned the gesture. “...Hey bud.”

 “Hi Monkey King, you okay?”

 “Yeah…just a little lost in my head. Nothing that you need to worry about. Although I’m sure you’re going to, no matter what I do.”

 “You know me well.” MK pulled away, beaming up at the other. Laughing as his hair was ruffled. Batting away Wukong’s hands playfully. He stepped back, eyes landing on something on the ground with a brow raised. “So…did you two talk?”

 “Yeah…there are a few things that I need to work out. But I’m feeling better.” 

 “Ooooh, we can tell!” Mei called out, giggling furiously behind her hand.

 Wukong looked confused, turning back to MK. Who merely pointed to something between the two monkeys. The teen holding back laughter by biting his lower lip. When looking down, Wukong felt his face flush up, fur puffing out. At some point, his and Macaque’s tails had wrapped around each other. Swaying between the two easily. 

 “Um…so, we can explain-”

 “Oh Wukong!” The Monkey King stumbled as Macaque practically collapsed against him, The Shadow Warrior seeming to have swooned. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me!”

 “Macaque, I swear to everything-”

 “A confession in the forest would have been a lot more romantic.”

 “Get off me!”

 “You were always so bad at timing- Mmph!”

 “Ewww! Get a room you two, bleh!”

 “Kid, you’ve seen Tang and I kiss plenty of times. Calm down.”

 “Pigsy, don’t just say that out loud!”

 “Do you peasants not know the meaning of privacy?”

 “Oooh, this is so much more scandalous!”

[growup-thatbeautiful]

jealous! bullet proof! tan! oh my!

bullet proof masterlist

tw: blood, jealousy, unwanted touching, guns, kissing

he’s one of those “i don’t like people touching what’s mine” guys, which you weren’t a fan of at first, let’s be honest.

but it grew on you when you started dating, and it just got worse from there. the mix of your mutual fear of loosing each other (both before and after the split) made it to where he couldn’t stand to see anyone that isn’t him touching you

so before you’re married, when he’s just starting to date you (before lovely little jovie comes around), you take a mission where you’re acting as a honeypot, trying to seduce information out of a dealer who made the wrong enemies. needless to say, you’re good at your job. really good at your job. dedicated, too.

you’ve got an earpiece in your ear, tan’s voice telling you positions of guards and other helpful information, and you’re tuning it out, focusing on getting the necessary names/locations.

tan doesn’t like being ignored, and he really doesn’t like being ignored for another guy. but it’s just for a mission, so he deals with it by rechecking the bullets in his gun.

buttt it all becomes a little bit too much when he leans a tad bit too close to you, his lips next to your ear, whispering something tan can’t hear. the guys hand is on your thigh, the other one cupping your face, and you have to fight to keep yourself still. you know it’s part of the job, you know you signed up for it, but you’re feeling less inclined to let the dude touch you now that he’s doing it.

lemon may be the expert at reading people, but tan’s the expert about you, and he can fucking tell the moment that you’re no longer okay with it.

you blink for a moment and there he is; tan, looking like some sort of revenge-seeking angel in an all white suit that he nicked from the serving staff, gun in his hand aimed at the guys head

he’s behind the guy, so tan goes unnoticed until the gun is pointed into the guy’s temple, tan’s arm around his chest. instinctively, you pull the gun from the holster on your thigh and aim it at the guy as well.

tan’s words are whispered harshly to the man, “you’re lucky i haven’t got the time to treat you how you fuckin’ deserve” “no one fucking treats my girl like that” and finally “love, you care to do the honors?”

once you’re out of there, body neatly disposed of, blood staining tan’s white shirt, he’ll lead you into an alleyway somewhere safe, checking in on you and telling you that everything’s going to be okay

of course, you’ll end up pinned to the brick wall, tan’s mouth leaving searing kisses and marks all along your neck and collarbone to make sure everyone sees that you’re his

taglist loves: @venusthepirate @shadows-of-nyx @syd-vixious @thefloatingpickle @sallyp-53 @fictionalcomforts @s-haa @the-bisaster @phoenixhits @wee-little-mouse @cupofstarss @eefos @slut-f0r-u @lotustv @kpopgirlbtssvt @amyg1509 @tangerinesgf @earth-elemental18 @theredvelvetbitch

[drabbles-of-writing]

Haunted Hallways

“The First (and friends)”

AO3

Chapters: 2, 3

For as long as Hunter could remember, he'd never been lonely. Sure, he didn't have any friends, but being lonely implied someone was alone, and he wasn't. He had his uncle, his subordinates, and anyone else who he had the displeasure of working with to keep him some form of company.

Oh, and the weird translucent witches that kept bothering him. But he didn't really count those. Truthfully, they were too much of an inconvenience to be dignified with the title of 'company.'

- - -

In which Hunter talks to ghosts that look way too familiar to be a coincidence.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hunter remembered the first time he saw them.

Well, one of them. For all he knew, he saw the first one way back when, before any memory could reasonably be recalled. But the point was that his memory went back far enough that he could determine something close to a first. 

Somewhere, in the jumbled mess that was his mind, he thought he was three or so, maybe two. Which was pretty damn impressive, considering his memory up until the age of about nine was so fuzzy and distorted it might not have existed at all. As everyone else’s was.

He couldn’t remember the scene leading up to it, nor the context. But he knew he was descending down into the lower bellies of the castle, where he was pretty sure Belos kept him until he got his own room. Not like he had any desire to ask and find out.

But he knew that he was heading down, and he thought Belos was carrying him. He knew he was being carried by someone, at least. Whoever was carrying him didn’t matter, because above all, he had a decent enough memory of turning his head away.

He remembered looking to the side of the stairs, off towards the darker, shadowed hallways, where no lights dared reach. Not very far, at least.

This part, funnily enough, was so vivid in his mind he might as well have seen it just a few weeks ago. In fact, most of his memories of them (because he couldn’t, wouldn’t, call them anything else) were strikingly clear. For his own sake, he chose not to look into it.

There, down the hallway, was a person. They were walking down the hallway, towards them, in a slow, drifting movement. He’d call it akin to a lamp in an attic, had he the desire to be poetic.

He remembered they had a long, pale yellow cloak. Remembered there was a hood pulled far over their head, face hidden completely from how low it was ducked. Remembered they didn’t make a single sound.

He remembered that he pointed to them, probably babbling some nonsense. Likely just asking who the weird person was. After all, in the dark emptiness of the hallway around them, they were glaringly obvious.

Whoever was holding him looked in the direction of the figure, pausing on the steps. The figure, similarly, also turned their head, though it was towards the both of them.

Something circular and golden-brown covered their face, though they were too far away to make out any details. He recalled that they froze then, one foot hanging out midstep. He could’ve mistaken them for a petrified victim for how still they were.

Whoever was holding Hunter only stayed still for a few seconds. They simply shrugged after a moment, continuing down the stairs at the same pace as before, unbothered. He remembered thinking that was a little odd. His uncle didn’t like anyone other than a few specific people being around him, and this wasn’t one of those people.

The figure, however, was quick to take a good few quick steps back, cape swishing. He believed he pointed and babbled some more, but they were already turning right on their heel before he could form a mildly coherent word. He remembered being surprised at just how fast they sprinted right back down the way they came.

They swung to a harsh left when they reached the opposite end of the hallway, and Hunter watched as they nearly stumbled right into the wall before running out of sight without a moment’s hesitation.

They didn’t come back.

  The second time was when he was four. More or less.

Same premise, not a lot of context. But he knew that he was in Belos’s throne room. More specifically, he knew that he was on one side of the room and Belos was on the other, ascending the stairs to his throne.

Maybe Belos was telling him to follow. Maybe he’d been dropped off by the select few who were permitted to watch him. Maybe he’d been wandering again.

But he knew that he looked to the other end of the room, to Belos turning around at the top of the stairs, standing right before his throne and looking directly towards Hunter. Whatever words he was saying had long-signed blurred together in his mind.

He remembered seeing something curled around the back of Belos’s throne. He squinted at it, and only when it started to move did he realize it was a hand.

He remembered being alarmingly calm, if confused, to see someone creeping out from behind his uncle’s throne. Remembered that they had a pale cloak and a circular, golden mask with a million cracks in it. Remembered that when they stepped free of their hiding place, they were looking directly at his uncle.

That they were holding something curved, shining, and sharp.

Like before, he pointed. He probably said something like “who’s that?” or whatever was similar enough to it. He remembered, vividly, that the hand holding the sharp object had been raised high over the person’s head when he spoke.

The figure froze.

He remembered their head tilted in his direction, a slow, deliberate movement, and he got the distinct impression of eyes piercing straight through him. It unnerved him enough to shiver, hand lowering.

His uncle jerked his head around, evidently ready and prepared to fight whatever intruder had come for him. As soon as he did, the figure scrambled back in a frantic haste, nearly tripping over their own feet.

His uncle, however, didn’t react. He just kept moving his head back and forth, scanning and searching for who Hunter was still staring at, who now stood many meters away from his uncle. Their hands shook around what he would later know was a kris dagger.

His uncle still didn’t move. He just kept looking around, tightly gripping his staff. His gaze passed right over the shaking figure as though they were nothing more than any old piece of tile.

“Right there, Uncle!” He thought he said. His voice may have cracked, or he may have imagined it.

The figure looked at him again. They tilted their head, much like an inquisitive bird. Hunter almost ducked his head, as if that would save him from their unwanted stare.

Belos spoke again, he remembered. Growling something like this is no time for games or where, Hunter? even as he kept looking right past them.

The figure stayed still for a moment, still staring. Then, with a sharp twist of their body, they turned and darted back behind the Emperor’s throne.

They didn’t come out the other side.

  The first time he talked to them, when he truly counted it, was when he was five or so.

Once again, he didn’t remember what happened before it. But he knew that he was alone, and he was in one of the long, dark hallways of the upper levels. Maybe he ran off. Or maybe he was lost. Or maybe there was someone just out of sight. He sure as hell didn’t know.

But he knew that he was peeking down one of those hallways, and he was afraid. Because toddlers are scared of the dumbest things, and he was reminded of this all throughout his childhood. Frequently. 

But he knew not to show fear to childish things, now. So it worked out.

He remembered shaking as he peered down that hallway, holding his arms. And he knew that as he looked, he realized it wasn’t as dark and empty as he thought it was. Which was a surprise, because they almost always were.

There was someone standing in the hallway. This time, he had enough memory (or was just close enough) to remember the finer details of their appearance. 

They bore a white capelet with golden-brown trims, though he believed that the caplet was torn and frayed at the ends, so it might’ve once been a regular cape. Underneath it was a dark gray tunic tucked into black pants and big, black and gold boots with broken soles. Their heavy-duty gloves were similar in color, stopping halfway up their forearm when he saw them trail a hand over the stone wall next to them. He believed there had been small, silver chains wrapped around their wrists.

They were facing away from him, white hood drawn over their head. Even at that age, he knew there was something downright haunting about them, as there had been for the others. Like a bright splash of yellow in a mansion that had long-since begun to gather dust and cobwebs. Which made no sense, since aside from the white, their color scheme actually fit rather well. If anything, they looked like they belonged a lot better than the last two.

But, in the mind of five-year-old Hunter, they still seemed like a better alternative than being alone. Somehow, they were less scary than the Coven Guards with their pointed, smoothed masks and visible eyes. He never liked when he could see their eyes.

Then, the figure began to move. It was slow, deliberate, and they clearly weren’t in a rush. But their walking was away from Hunter, rather than towards him.

And so, with all the wisdom a toddler can have, Hunter panicked, thinking the one not-scary thing in the whole castle was leaving him. So, in a very sensible manner, he rushed off from the corner he’d been clinging to on not-very-quiet-feet towards the stalking figure.

He didn’t think he was crying, but it was close, and he thought he hiccuped a quick, quiet “wait!” as he ran.

The figure paused, still casual as ever, slowing to a stop as they leisurely looked over their shoulder—

And Hunter had thrown himself at their legs before he could even see what their face looked like.

He remembered it feeling wrong. Like moving through thick sludge and tar. Because when he collided with their legs, his hands and body went through it, if much slower than it would through normal air.

He remembered it was only then that he realized they weren’t completely solid. Because if he squinted close enough, he could see the floor through their legs.

“What the fuck?”

Hunter stumbled, on his hands and knees as he blinked and processed that he had not, in fact, hit the solid wall that was a comforting leg. He blinked a few moments more, staring at the floor, before turning his head up and back, fear replaced with plain confusion.

The tunic apparently had loops all along the front, each with a silver chain connecting across it, despite the fact it wasn’t even a button-up. There was a similar, thicker chain clasping the capelet together, though it connected to a small, silver sword in the middle.

Like all the others, there was a brown and gold mask over their face.

It was only at that age he could recall that it didn’t look like any of the other masks he’d seen in the castle. It was round, reminding him of an owl, with a line down the middle and two thinner holes stretching out where eyes would be, hiding them from view.

It was broken, though. The mask had a huge chunk taken out of the lower left side, exposing blemished, light pink scar tissue all along what was visible of their cheek. There was another smaller piece missing from the same side, a bit higher up than the other, with paler, unmarked skin beyond it. Cracks spread out from both missing pieces, and two more weaved upwards from the right eye. Where one of the cracks ended on the right side of the mask, a small chip was missing.

And they were looking directly down at him, tense and poised.

Hunter stared up at them. They stared back.

Confused (and dangerously curious), Hunter pushed himself up onto his feet again, swaying a little. The figure’s head turned slightly to show they were tracking his movements as he stood, which Hunter took as a win.

He took one, small, step towards them, still staring.

They scrambled back so fast they nearly tripped over their own feet, yelping and cursing as they stumbled. He could see their jaw moving with their words through the holes in their mask, quick flashes of the corner of their mouth through the big hole in the left side.

“What magic is that?” He asked curiously, deciding to stay right where he was.

Hunter thought he meant the ‘magic’ that made the figure semi-translucent. and why he could run right through them. But he was, tragically, still incredibly young, and didn’t know he had to clarify these things.

The figure probably didn’t care, anyway.

“What the fuck.” They repeated, more in a hoarse whisper now, stepping until their back hit the side of the hallway, hands raised as though Hunter, in all his tiny glory, was a threat. “What the—hi? Hello?” They greeted, sounding panicked and shrill as they did.

“Hi,” Hunter greeted back, because he wasn’t rude, “I like your clothes.”

“Holy shit.” They said, very eloquently, and maybe a bit in awe. “Holy—hi. Titan below—yeah, hi.”

Hunter tilted his head, frowning. “You already said hi.”

“Yeah,” the figure breathed, slouching a bit, “hi.”

“Hi,” Hunter repeated, a little annoyed, “you don’t gotta keep saying it.”

“Uh huh,” The figure said, slowly easing themself back against the wall and to the ground, “yeah, my bad.”

“It’s okay,” He said, deciding he could move closer again in a ‘subtle’ shuffle, “why are you wearing that?”

“Huh?” The figure wheezed, still stunned as they finally reached the ground, legs bent and bunched in case of a need to run. 

“The mask.” Hunter simplified, because he could be patient, stopping before he was in between their feet, wringing his far too-crooked and misshapen hands in front of him. “Uncle doesn’t have that mask.”

“My mask?” The figure echoed, shaking their head a moment later, one hand coming up to press against the side of it. “Titan—what the hell, okay—aren’t you…” They paused, swallowing, “aren’t you the…the Emperor’s new guy?”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to tell people that?” Hunter frowned, tilting his head.

“Oh Titan,” The figure breathed, “yeah, okay. That is…alright. That’s cool.”

“It is?” Hunter blinked.

“Yeah,” The figure nodded, dazed, “very cool. Do you have a name?”

“M’not supposed to tell people that.” He mumbled, wary as he ducked his head.

“Oh, well—that-that’s okay,” The figure stuttered, hesitantly leaning forward a bit, “I won’t tell, I promise. No one will know.”

“...not even Uncle?” Hunter narrowed his eyes.

“No, no, not even him.” The figure shook their head. They paused, then reached out a hand. “Can you see all of me?”

“Yeah?” Hunter frowned. “Course I can. I’m not blind.”

“Just checkin.” The figure hummed, still a bit shrill, and he could see the edge of a mildly panicked smile through the hole in their mask. It made him feel weird when he saw it. “Haven’t talked to someone like you in a while.”

“Like me?” Hunter pricked his ears. 

“Like you.” They confirmed, hand halfway outstretched. “Can…can you come here?”

“Why?” Hunter asked quickly, defensively. 

“You kinda fell through me.” They said, chuckling a bit. They had a scratchy voice, much older-sounding. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry about that. You…I wanna see if you fall through again. I don’t want you to fall through.”

Their voice sounded a little heavy. Some emotion he couldn’t pick out. It wasn’t as threatening as when he couldn’t determine his uncle’s, even if only just.

He inched closer.

But Hunter was a smart kid, if you couldn’t tell, so instead of touching their gloved hand, hesitantly reached for their knee.

With a featherlight touch, he felt something solid. Not completely, about as much as a soggy cake would be, but solid all the same. He heard the figure suck in a quick breath.

“Oh,” They croaked, “maybe that oracle was shitty.”

“An oracle?” Hunter echoed, still in wonderment of how weird they felt, but he didn’t think they heard him.

“‘You have nothing but hauntings for company,’ sure I do.” They laughed, a hollow sound as they pressed their hand over their masks eyes, hanging their head a bit. “Yeah, yeah, sure I do, but betcha didn’t see what came after that, huh? Titan below. ’Oh, yeah, he’s gonna have a tiny look-alike kid staring at him’ wasn’t even on the radar? Not even a little bit?”

He seemed to be talking to himself, so Hunter wasn’t sure if he should bother him. His uncle talked to himself sometimes, too, and he didn’t like to be bothered. So he just experimentally kept pressing his hand against his knee, noting that with enough force, his hand started to sink in.

“This is what I get,” He bemoaned quietly, inhaling shakily, “this is what I get. A fuckin’ baby talking to me.”

“I’m not a baby!” Hunter bristled, ears lowering.

“Yeah, sure,” He said weakly, loosely dropping his hand from his eyes, “you sure look like it.”

“Babies can’t do anything!” He protested, crossing his little arms across his chest. “I can do lots of things!”

“Course,” He hummed, shifting so his legs were drawn back, “yeah, course. Cause babies don’t have names.”

“I have a name!” Hunter snapped, turning his nose up and before he could think about it; “it’s Hunter.”

“Hunter,” The figure repeated reverently, sitting on his knees, “Hunter. Of course he called you that.”

“I—well I like my name.” Hunter grumbled, glowering. “My Uncle said it—“

He didn’t get to know what he was planning on saying next. Because in one scarily fast movement, the person had reached out and snagged an arm around his side, making him stumble. This made Hunter squeak, and the figure bark out a shocked, wet laugh.

He pulled him closer, held him tighter. His arm nearly went right through Hunter until he realized the problem. He was much lighter after that, with just enough force to almost send Hunter into his chest.

“Holy shit,” He giggled, sounding a bit delirious, “you’re tiny.”

“I am not!” Hunter protested, pushing at his stomach and trying to pull back, movements feeling like swimming. “I’m really big!”

“You’re tiny.” He cooed, dropping his head. “Oh, Titan, you’re so small.”

Hunter spooked when their masked forehead dropped to the top of his head. 

Really, he froze up, heart beating wildly in his chest. He didn’t dare move, let alone breathe. His uncle used to hold him something like this when he was younger, though he stopped as he got older.

He didn’t like it when Hunter moved while he was being held, way too close for comfort. The sharp points on his gloves would hold so tight it made him bleed. He never said a word.

“Oh, Titan,” The figure choked, sounding close to tears, “was I that small?”

The hold on his side grew heavier.

Hunter, in a moment of panic, shoved at his chest. It startled him enough that the hold lessened, and Hunter stumbled away till he fell onto his back, a soft spitting noise escaping him before he could smother it. His uncle hated it when he made those noises, he said it was for feral beasts.

The figure gave a half-assed reach as Hunter scurried further away, backwards on his hands with his feet kicking out at the stone floor.

“Don’t touch me!” He hissed, pleaded, really, because this wasn’t his Uncle, and his Uncle didn’t like it when other people touched him.

The figure stared at him silently for a moment, seeming bewildered. He looked like even more of a disheveled mess than before, and Hunter thought he could see blond hair poking free of his hood. He still had his arm halfway outstretched.

“Oh, kid…” He murmured, sorrowful and, from the downwards curve of the side of his mouth, horrified, “what is he going to do to you?”

Somehow, it sounded worse than the hands around him had felt.

“Whoa, is that a kid?”

Hunter jerked his head around, hissing like a cat.

Two scouts stood at the other end of the hallway, halted in their tracks, confused. Hunter stared at them for a few seconds, hiss dying in his throat. 

They glanced at each other as one of them pushed up their mask, revealing a red scaled demon underneath. He remembered she looked worried.

“The—he just—“ Hunter started, pointing to the figure—

Who wasn’t there anymore.

Hunter paused. Then jolted, looking around frantically, hallway blurring together. Nothing. No hide nor hair of the person that had been right across from him.

“Should we take him to the captain?” He heard one of the scouts ask hesitantly as he ran over to where the figure had been, patting at the wall and ground.

“Probably, I mean—I assume he’s someone’s kid?”

“Maybe they couldn’t find a babysitter?”

“Yeesh, you’d think this place would at least give enough money to hire one of those. Must be a trainee.”

“Where is he?” Hunter demanded, a bit desperately, still sitting on his knees where the figure had been, looking to the scouts.

“Who, kid?” The scaled demon hushed soothingly, slowly approaching with hands outstretched. “You looking for your dad?”

“The guy!” Hunter insisted, patting at the wall again. “The-the weird mask!”

“What mask, little guy?” The demon asked gently, still moving closer, slightly crouched.

“Owl! The-the owl mask!” Hunter huffed, frustrated as he glared at them. “The guy with the weird mask! Where is he?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, kid.” The demon said, hands reaching over him. “C’mon, let’s go find your—“

“Don’t touch me!” He barked for a second time, jerking away. “Don’t touch—where is he?” He demanded again, looking around. “He was here!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, kid.” The demon said, holding her palms up, her friend hovering over her back, nervously looking down both ends of the hallway. “It’s okay, I won’t touch you. I’ll help you find whoever you're looking for, okay? It’s gonna be alright.”

“But he was right here!” Hunter repeated, weaker. “He…he was right here.”

Hunter may not remember a lot about his younger years. But he remembered that moment very potently for two reasons, neither of which he liked.

First, well, it was his first memory of ever talking to someone like that figure in the hallway. Every few months, he’d think about him again. Try and piece together all of his words in a puzzle that he knew would never be completed. He was always frustrated when he came up with a few pieces missing.

Secondly, he remembered it because it had to be his earliest, and may have even been his first, memory of feeling so entirely, so terrifyingly, utterly and completely helpless.

It was a feeling he’d get awfully used to.

  He didn’t remember how, or when, the scouts got him back to Belos. But he remembered that Belos didn’t like people seeing him wandering about unless the captain assigned to look after him was there, or Belos himself. 

So he knew that Belos would be upset before he even found him.

He didn’t want a lot of people to know about him, he said. As far as the Coven was concerned, he was just a kid that Belos took pity on. Nothing more.

Hunter didn’t remember how angry Belos had been when he was returned. Most things like that were blocked from his memory no matter his age. But he had a very, very faint recollection of a conversation not long after it.

Or maybe he imagined that it happened. Who knows, he may have a better overall memory past nine, but he didn’t have any trust for the bias his own mind had given him until the age of thirteen.

“What’s the owl mask for?” He asked. He thought he was standing beside Belos’s throne, hands gripping the armrest, up on his tippy toes.

“Owl mask?” Belos scoffed, head turning slightly towards him. He hastily dropped his hands from the armrest, moving back to the soles of his feet. His uncle’s mask was by far the scariest.

“Yeah, the…the circle one.” Hunter mumbled, shoulders hunched. “The golden one with-with the little eye holes.” He said, raising his hands to his face to mimic the circular lines where the figures had been.

His uncle went very, very still. He’d been still before, but there was something about how he was frozen now that turned Hunter’s blood cold and insides coiled. He was still staring.

“I-I was just wonderin.’” He said quickly, head ducked and hands behind his back. “It-it’s okay.” He didn’t need to know. He didn’t.

“Where did you see that mask, Hunter?” His uncle asked, far too evenly. He made a mistake.

“I’m-im sorry, Uncle—“

“Where did you see that mask?” Belos growled, voice sharper and Hunter flinched, head lowered further.

“N-nowhere.” He mumbled, then hastily corrected, because Belos didn’t like it when he said that, “I-I just—I saw it in the hallways. On-on the ground. Some…someone was messin’ with it, I think.”

He hated lying. His uncle hated it even more when he lied. But his uncle must not have liked that Hunter saw that mask, because he was really angry now. He must not have wanted Hunter to know about the Coven members who wore those masks. He didn’t want to ruin it any further.

“On the ground?” Belos repeated, voice low. “Who had the mask, Hunter?”

“I dunno.” He mumbled, eyes still on the floor.

“Was it a scout?” His uncle pressed. Still too evenly.

“Uh, y-yeah, I think so.” Hunter thought quickly, brain whirring. “It-it was the…the red scout. With the scales.” He said, gesturing to his face with one hand. “And…and the spikes on her head.”

“Was it?” Belos asked. “She had the mask?”

“Y-yeah, I just…I wanted to ask her about it.” Hunter scuffed his foot on the ground. “But she said we needed to find you…”

There were a few moments of silence. Then, the sound of a sigh, and Belos leaned back in his chair. Hunter dared raise his head slightly, glancing at his uncle out of the corner of his eye. He was looking out at the throne room again.

“Is that the truth, Hunter?”

“Y-yes, Uncle.” Hunter nodded quickly. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know it was bad.”

“That’s quite alright, nephew.” Belos said, reaching out. Hunter willed himself to remain very still as a hand cupped the side of his face, keeping it upright. “I was only surprised. I’ll take care of it. But if you ever see that mask again,” a harsh grip on his face, and Hunter bit back a whimper, face scrunching, “you are to not touch it, and tell me immediately. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Uncle.” Hunter whispered.

“Good boy.” Belos released his face, and Hunter didn’t dare move. “I knew I could trust someone like you.”

Hunter just nodded in a tiny movement, heart pounding so loud he thought it might drown out the Titan’s.

It wouldn’t be till years later, when he thought back on such a memory, that he realized he never did see that scout again. It was a thought that haunted him on sleepless nights, squeezing his chest tight with jeers of your fault, your fault.

Which was especially stupid when he wasn’t even sure if that conversation had happened in the first place.

He never saw that figure in the hallway again, either. That one, however, he could live with much easier. At least he had chosen to disappear.

Or maybe he didn’t. But Hunter didn’t particularly feel like looking it into it more and find out.

Sometimes, never knowing was a better alternative.

[fog-covered-sekai]

mother

filthy dirty violated

violated

so vulnerable

too vulnerable

cant say no, cant refuse, you owe it, you owe her, you have to, theres no choice, no say

too vulnerable

youve been violated

my personal space, its been violated

my autonomy

my boundaries

cant say no

no no no not me please dont

dont touch me please dont hands soff dont make me

violated

so so vulnerable

you owe it to her, you have to, you are all she has left

all she has left

you have to

you must

cant say no

so violated

im so sorry

i cant protect you

i cant protect me

im so vulnerable, im sorry

im all thats left, i have to do it

i may hate it, but i have to do it

it feels disgusting, but i have to do it

it makes me feel filthy, but i have to do it

it makes me feel violated, but i have to do it

theres no other choice.

just move your body, hold your head still.

its painless.

its violated.

it lasts for hours,

but thats just the autism.

you can breathe now, you can move now. choice is yours now, autonomy is yours now. safe again now. no more now. you are done for now.

just.

for now.

but it will happen again.

[arthursaus]

Error’s really fucking tired and he just wants a nap and a million chocolate bars.

Poor thing. Yes, I kin Error, yes, I simp for Error, so don’t be surprised when I talk about Error softly. He deserves the world.

Also, speaking of Error, I’ve been thinking about something on and off for the past few weeks. Is it really that hard for people to respect other’s boundaries? Like, it’s so easy to just. NOT touch someone. Or to not crowd someone.

And this isn’t just about Error, this is also a personal thing for me. I don’t have haphephobia or anything, but I am sensitive to touch due to a sensory processing disorder. And it’s just. Why? Is it really so hard?

Honestly I think I brought this up while talking about Error because when it comes to Error that stuff infuriates me. When it’s me, I’m very uncomfortable and I hate it but I’ll get through it, but when it’s Error I just get really angry.

I don’t know how it feels for people with haphephobia, but I hate it when it happens to me. I have to be in the right mood and mindset for physical touch.

If not… everything feels wrong. Like, inherently, basely, unexplainable wrong. Nothing is right, nothing is as it should be.

It feels like my mind sort of partially separates from my body. Not in the form of having an out of body experience, and I’m not sure if it counts as dissociation either, but my mind’s connection to my body dulls significantly. I can still control it, but I have to seek it out first.

My mind separates from my body while simultaneously drawing further into it. Or into itself? Everything dulls. I can’t think. My head is silent. It shouldn’t be silent. I can’t function. I feel…. Cold? Not cold as in the temperature, but cold as in numbness. Numbness toward the world around me. I feel numb. What am I? Where am I? I feel disconnected from the world around me. I feel… not small, and not insignificant either, but also insignificant at the same time? Something similar?

I just don’t get why people can’t keep their hands to themselves. I get it, my hair is pretty, and you wanna play with it, but 1: you don’t have my permission, and 2: you’re screwing me up. Like, fucking me up. In the right circumstances, a single unwanted touch can throw me off for the rest of the day. I almost feel like… IDK, like a stranger in my own body? No, not really that, I feel like my body isn’t mine to control. Not that it’s not mine, but rather that though it is mine, it is not mine to control.

It’s awful. Sorry, just had to rant. Probably will reblog this to my side blog and/or main blog too.

[goofyrpmaniacs]

Kage: *raises a brow* You can? How?

Tw: unwanted touching

Bella: Well I can—*eyes Kokoro* Hmmmm….

Kokoro: W-what? What is it?

Bella: Hmmm…*pokes her arms* You feel organic…but something about you is different…*squeezes her arm* Kokoro:…*uncomfortable*….p-please stop!

[bl33ditout]

i don't like flirting, it's so stupid and embarrassing to watch people do it. especially when guys have tried to flirt with me. just not the best experience lol

[angeldarkrose]

I’ve never really understood people who touch people in any way without asking. I’ve felt so uncomfortable in my own home for so long now bc of someone. Then they just decide to hug me while I’m standing in the fridge looking for a drink. I don’t care if they were leaving what do I look like, my mom? Don’t hug me from behind like that and definitely not kiss the “side of my head” which was more the upper part of my neck. I really don’t care if it’s just a goodbye. You know I hate being touched by people unless I tell them it’s okay due to past things. First it was constantly talking about my chest when I walk and my outfits then complaining about not being able to unbutton my shirt. Then it was talking about my ‘essence?’ After my showers but hiding it with a Simba joke?? I’m kinda at my end with some people🫱🏻‍🫲🏼