#waiting to peel off that human suit just like snake skin

[stitchwitchsapprentice]

Family: A Short Story

Five boys crouched in the alley between the toy store and the bakery on Vine Passage in Queensville. All were between the ages of ten and fifteen. A layer of mud on their bare skin disguised much of the tree-bark like lines snaking across their skin, marking them as sprites, but did little to hide their vibrant red hair.

"Should we really be doing this?" One of the boys whispered, "my mom'll kill if we get caught."

"It's what they deserve, for picking on Oak."

The youngest boy, and the only one with blonde hair, tugged a knitted red cap over his head.

"Shh! They're coming!" A third boy hissed. He stood at the front, the tallest, though not the oldest, of the five. A silence fell upon the gathering, and the boy at the front held up three fingers as he watched from around the corner. Five more boys approached, of similar ages, also all sprites. These boys were better dressed, if only because they were not covered in mud from the recent rains. The fingers counted down. Two, one, and then pointed. 

The five in the alley ambushed those in the street, hurling clods of mud from a reed basket two of them carried. They chased the others to the corner until a woman came out of a gift shop. She was human, and she was clearly not pleased to see the boys near her shop. "I'll see to it you're all arrested by the keepers!" She yelled, and the boys scattered.

They slowed down as they reached Acorn Avenue, and started to peel away, leaving Oak and his brother, Ash, to trudge toward their house. 

"We're gonna get in trouble, aren't we?" Oak asked.

Ash put an arm around his little brother's shoulders. "Maybe so, maybe not." He nodded his head toward a house on the corner. Oak followed as they knocked on the door.

"What did you get yourselves into this time?" The boy who answered was one of the few humans who lived on Acorn Avenue. Though his skin was a similar golden brown color as the other boys, it did not bear the distinctive tree-bark pattern. His hair was a boring brown, and he was a head taller than Ash, even though they were the same age.

"The Central Row boys were picking on Oak. Saying he's not a real sprite, just 'cuz he's got blonde hair." Blonde hair wasn't unheard of among sprites, but it was unusual. Most had red or orange hair, the color of autumn leaves. "Whose heard of a blonde tree?" one of the boys had asked.

Nic grinned as he opened the door wider. "Come on, you can wash up in here. My parents aren't home anyway."

Oak went first, using a towel Nic gave him to clean as much of the mud as he could off his skin and clothes. Not much had gotten in his hair, since he had been wearing the red cap.

When he came out of the bathroom, the older boys were sitting at the table, smoking cigarettes. "Mom's gonna get double mad at you," he told his brother. "She's told you not to smoke."

"She won't know if you don't tell her, will she?" Ash put out the cigarette on a plate, and then stood up. Nic took one more drag and then followed suit, opening the window as Ash cleared the air with his wind magic.

"You'd better clean up," Nic said as the cigarette box disappeared into his pocket. Then he grabbed the plate and disappeared into the kitchen to dispose of the evidence.

Ash went to the bathroom as Nic returned and leaned in the kitchen doorway. "You couldn't have taken just a couple more minutes in the bathroom?"

Oak perched on a chair at the table. "Why, so you can keep breaking the rules? I know you're not supposed to smoke either. Otherwise, you wouldn't wait until Ash came over so he could get rid of the smell." He wrinkled his nose.

"Well, it's the first time mom and dad have both been gone all week, okay?"

"Where are they?"

"They went to pick up Roman from school." Nic's twin brother, Roman, was a mage and studied at a special boarding school in the port city of Stonewall.

"He doesn't like it when you smoke either."

"No, he doesn't. Not that he'll be around to notice. Apparently he's already agreed to help with the lightning at that kid's play at Bertram."

"The what?"

Ash came back in from the bathroom, hair dripping, and shirtless. "Please don't tell me you just mentioned the Bertram Opera House in front of my brother."

"What do you mean kid's play?" Oak bounced in his chair.

"Forget it," Ash said, "it's not for you."

Nic looked from one brother to the other. "Am I missing something?"

"Oak has decided he is going to perform one day at the Bertram Opera House."

"I'm going to be the first sprite on the stage!" Oak bounced higher. "I'm going to be just like Lakeshore Silverflight!"

"Well, Silverflight never performed there, so you're not going to be just like him," Nic reminded the younger boy.

"Then I'll be better."

"Oh gods, you've gotten him started. Look, Oak, it's a human theater. They don't want people like us."

Oak ignoed his brother. "What's the play?" he asked Nic.

"Uh... I think it's... Lions of Gold?"

Oak bounced higher still. "Lions of Gold! Lions of Gold! I know that one! I could play Akalle!"

Ash shook his head. "Great, now I'm never going to hear the end of it."

Nic walked over to the other boy. "Relax, he's a kid. Let him dream a little."

"That's right. I forgot you were a dreamer too."

"Hey, astromythology makes no less sense than the Calistian gods." He licked a thumb and wiped a speck of mud off Ash's face. "You missed a spot."

"Can we go tomorrow and find out when they're having auditions?" Oak suddenly stood between the two older boys. "Please?!"

Ash looked down. "Oak, I already told you. No one at the Bertram Opera House wants you. They want people like..." Ash pointed to Nic. "...Roman."

Oak stamped his foot. "If you don't take me, I'll tell mom and dad you were smoking."

Ash rolled his eyes, but Nic just grinned. "Little brothers, am I right?"

"You and your brother are twins."

"One of us is still older, right? By five minutes or something?"

"And who's that?"

Nic shrugged. "Do you remember your birth?"

"You're not helping," Ash said as Oak tugged on his arm, alternately begging and threatening for Ash to take him to the opera house the next day. Ash relented. "Fine. We'll go. If we're not already in trouble for fighting." He grabbed his brother and pulled him toward the door. "See you later, Nic."

They did not get in trouble for fighting. Either the other boys had also gotten away with their escapade, or no one had ratted them out. So the following day, Ash took his brother downtown to the Bertram Opera House. He made sure both of them were well dressed in clothing made from the tight, woven fabric humans wore, rather than the knitted yarn that sprites had been wearing for centuries. Ash glanced at Nic's house as they passed, wondering if he should invite the other boy to come. But Nic was probably still asleep. He tended to stay up late, stargazing.

Ash and Oak were all the better for it because Flame, Forest, and Moon were headed out too. "Why are you dressed like that?" Moon asked.

Ash sighed. "We're going to the Bertram Opera House."

Forest snorted. "Why are you going there?"

"Because Oak wants to audition for the play."

"I want to see this." And so the other three joined them.

It was a twenty minute walk to the opera house. Ash was glad the other boys were with him, since he didn't want trouble. They technically weren't doing anything wrong, but they didn't really need to be for someone to call the keepers on them.

The five of them stood across the street from the opera house, watching as people bustled in and out. "Well, something's going on," Forest said, "they're not usually this busy until later in the day."

A woman passed them holding the hand of a young boy about Oak's age. He was blonde too, but he clearly not a sprite. Another woman at the door with a clipboard greeted them like a new teacher at the start of school.

"They're already auditioning!" Oak made a run for the door, but Ash grabbed his shirt collar.

"Hold on, there," he told his brother. "We can't just go running in."

"Yeah," Moon nodded to the lady with the clipboard. "You have to be on the list."

As the mother and son walked inside, the woman with the clipboard looked up sharply at them. "And what are you doing out here?" She spoke the words in a quick, clipped sort of tone, except for the word you, which she elongated and let hang in the air.

"I want to aud..." Oak started to say, but Ash clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Nothing!" the older boy told her. "Just running an errand for my mother. She needs a pound of mackerel from the fish market."

"Then you'd best be on your way."

"Yes ma'am." When Ash struggled to drag the straining Oak down the sidewalk, the other boys helped.

"But I wanna audition!" he whined as they reached the street corner.

"Yeah, well they don't want us."

Ash hoped his companions would agree with him, and they could go home, but Flame leaned down. "Well, you need to stake out the competition first, don't you? Come on." He tilted his head down a side street. And that was that.

Flame wasn't the leader because he was the oldest--two years younger than Ash in fact--or because he was the strongest--that was Moon. He was the tallest of the five, almost as tall as a human boy his age, but that had nothing to do with it either. He had this smile that eased you into things. A playful grin that could have convinced the sun to change its course in the sky. It almost reminded Ash of Nic.

Flame led the group down an alley to the back of the opera house. "I don't like it down here," Oak complained. "Isn't this were Godfrey Erikson was killed?"

Ash rolled his eyes. Leave it to his little brother to know about some actor who died a decade before he was born.

"Who cares about Godfrey Erickson?" Moon muttered, looking around the way he might when they were on Central Row.

"Yeah, didn't he turn out to be a murderer anyway?" Forest asked.

Flame shushed them all. He pulled a bobby pin from his pocket and wrestled with the lock for a minute.

"They're going to be using magic on it to keep it from getting picked, you know," Ash said, but Flame shushed him again, and the door swung open. Ash wasn't sure how Flame had learned to pick locks like that, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Oak tried to run inside, but Flame caught him. "No," he whispered, "We're staking out the competition, remember?"

Oak nodded, eyes wide. Moon continued to look around them, sniffing the air, as the other four leaned in toward the doorway. They couldn't see anything, but they could hear a voice stammering through a set of lines.

"I... may be... small, but... but I could con...conquer a lion."

"He's terrible," Oak whined, "I could do so much better than that."

Before anyone could respond, a whoop echoed in the alley, and something wet and slimy hit Ash in the back. "Ugh!" Forest yelled as the smell of rotting fish rose from the ground around them. They turned as one to see the Central Row boys gathered at the mouth of the alley, firing on them with something that had surely gotten out of the garbage behind the fish market. They'd probably gotten paid a few pennies each to take the trash out too. There was nowhere to flee but through them.

Ash charged into the nearest boy, and soon it broke into an all out brawl. If they had ruined his good clothes, the least he could do was to make sure they went home stinking too. Of course, all this time, the backstage door was still open, and soon several stage hands were pulling the boys off of one another. Ash was a little thankful for the fish garbage after that because he hadn't been covered in it, the stage hands may have kept a tighter grip on him until the keepers arrived. As it was, they didn't want to muss up their own clothes, so he slipped out of their hold, grabbed Oak, and ran.

This time, there was no hiding the fact that they had gotten into a fight. Not only were they covered in fish guts, they had ruined their best clothes. It wasn't until after their mom had given them a tongue lashing about wearing their nice clothes for no reason and hanging around the opera house when they had no right to that she finally got around to punishing them for fighting. They were stuck at home for the next week.

The other boys had fared no better. Moon had gotten an actual lashing from his parents. Forest was sentenced to yard work for the whole neighborhood, and Flame's dad decided to drag him to work. "If you can't stay out of trouble here, you'll stay out of trouble there," he'd said. 

The worst part of Ash's punishment was that when his mother learned Oak wanted to be in the play, she told him he could run lines with his little brother, for "entertaining ridiculous notions," as if doing that would make Oak realize he would never be able to audition at the Bertram Opera House. But the grounding seemed to have the desired effect on that too. By the end of the week, Oak assumed the auditions of the play were over, so it didn't matter that he knew the part backward and forward.

The first day they were allowed out, their mother sent them to get yesterday's bread from the bakery. It was in the business strip about halfway between Acorn Avenue and Central Row, so it was common for brawls to break out there. Since going alone was a poor idea, and Forest and Flame were still living out their punishments, Ash called Moon to come along. He didn't expect Nic to catch up to them on their way down the street.

"Hey, haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, mom found out we were fighting." Ash glanced at Moon, who kept his gaze straight ahead.

"Where you headed to now?"

"Bakery. Mom needs some of their day old bread for pudding."

"Can I tag along?"

Ash glanced at Moon again. This time, he glanced back and shrugged.

As they walked out of the bakery, two of the boys from Central Row waited for them. "Well, if it isn't the little blonde freak," one of them said. Ash heard an intake of breath next to him, as if Nic were preparing to speak, and he gave his hand a squeeze, hoping it would silence him. "You guys got us arrested by the keepers."

"You got yourselves arrested. Maybe next time you'll think twice before throwing fish at people." Ash pushed the group past the other boys.

"You walking away from us, you cowards?"

Ash turned. "Oh, you want to fight?" He tried to sound cool and causal, as if he really didn't care what the answer was. Even though they outnumbered the other two boys, he wasn't sure they could beat them. Oak was small, and he didn't know what kind of a fighter Nic was. Besides, he was already in trouble.

The other boys looked at the group. Ash could tell they were eying Nic, but they didn't say anything about him. "Tomorrow," one of them said at last, "Noon. Sunnyside Park. Let's settle this once and for all." Ash nodded, knowing it would settle nothing.

When they got back to Acorn Avenue, Nic went to his house and Moon walked Ash and Oak home. "You shouldn't have agreed to that. We don't even know if we'll have Forest and Flame tomorrow."

Ash shrugged. "They kick us, and we'll get them back later."

"What about Nic?"

"What about him?" Ash could feel Moon watching him. He gave the bread to Oak to take inside to their mother.

"You two just seem close is all."

"So?"

Moon scratched at the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. "Well, you're family. I wanted to know if he was too."

Ash glanced back at Nic's house. "I don't know yet."

"Well, when you do, let us know."

Ash nodded, and Moon headed back to his house.

The next day, around eleven, Ash and Oak told their mother they were headed to Sunnyside Park. They didn't mention what they were going to do there. Forest wasn't done serving his sentence yet, but Flame was available. As Moon suspected, he was not entirely happy with Ash's decision, but accepted it. Everything would have gone perfectly smoothly if they hadn't passed the Bertram Opera House on their way.

Ash hadn't really thought about it. He assumed the auditions were over and his brother would move on. But the same woman with the clipboard was standing out front. She narrowed her eyes as they walked past. "You're not the same boys who were here last week, are you?"

Ash was about to tell her he didn't know who she was talking about, and they were walking toward Sunnyside, when Oak yelled across the street. "Can I still audition for the play?"

The woman's eyes grew wide and she pursed her lips. Then looked at her clipboard and back to Oak. "I'm afraid we're full. Perhaps next time." Then before he could argue, she turned to go inside, almost running right into someone coming out.

"Excuse me," Nic Carter said, as he slid past her and down the stairs. She smiled at him, and after one last backward glance toward Ash and his friends, slipped inside and shut the door.

When he saw the others, Nic crossed the street. He opened his mouth, but Ash spoke first. "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing my brother lunch."

Oak tugged on Nic's arm. "Is it true they're done auditioning?"

"The director's at lunch. They're going to start again when he gets back." Nic barely gave the younger boy a glance, and he spoke in an unfocused sort of way, until he returned his gaze to Ash. "Don't tell me you're going to fight those other boys at Sunnyside."

"Someone's got to teach them a lesson."

Oak stood next to his brother sulking, until Flame whistled to him. He and Moon were walking away down the sidewalk. Flame tilted his head, indicating the other boy should join them. At first he thought they were going to the fight and leave Ash behind, but they lingered several feet away, murmering to each other about strategy. Oak could barely hear Nic and Ash from their new spot.

"And what are you going to do if you beat them? Use your magic to take their breath away?"

"I could take yours away instead."

Oak tried to listen to the conversation Flame and Moon were having, but he couldn't focus on it, especially as a big black car was pulling around the corner toward the Opera House. It slowed and stopped. He could see a man getting out. This had to be the director returning. Oak knew if he could just get someone to listen to him once, he could get that part. He knew it perfectly.

"I can't do this."

"What, can't be seen with your sprite boyfriend in this part of town?"

"As if I didn't spend all year with you at the history museum."

Oak crossed the street swiftly, making a beeline for the man exiting the the car. He was tall and thin, like he was made of toothpicks. He wore a red shirt, black pants, and the shinest shoes Oak had ever seen. Even as he ran across the street, the man approached the door of the opera house without even backward glance. Oak would have to do something to get himself heard.

"I can't do this, not with Roman right there."

"You told me your brother came out last winter, and they didn't care."

"They didn't."

"I may be small, but I can conquer lions!" Oak called out. At first, he didn't think the director heard him. Then he turned, slowly, almost jerkily, as if he were some kind of clockwork toy. Emboldened by the attention he was getting, Oak continued. "I don't need size or strength. I'm Akalle the Cunning." From across the street, he heard Moon yelling at him to stop, but this was his only chance.

"What then? You're afraid of stealing me from your brother? Because he's shown so much interest from that school of his."

"No, it's not that, it's just..."

"Just what?!"

The director strode up to Oak and leaned down until his face was inches away from the boy's. "And who are you?"

"Oakfield Ironglade. I'd like to audition for your play."

"Get out. Of my sight." This was not the reaction Oak had expected. And he really hadn't expected the director to push him. Oak stumbled backwards, tripped over a rock, and landed in the street.

It was the sound of Oak crying the broke Ash and Nic out of their argument. Nic ran over to help him, but Ash pushed the other boy aside.

"You boys have no business near this theater!" A man yelled at him.

Ash helped his brother to his feet. "You're right. We don't. Come on, Oak." Nic approached again, and Ash pushed him back. "Go home, Nic. You don't want to get involved."

"Everything okay?" Moon asked as Ash and Oak joined the other two on the sidewalk.

"Everything's fine," Ash said, "he's just not family. Come on. We have a fight to win. You ready, Oak?"

Oak wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Yeah. Let's go."

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

In the Middle

One of your boyfriends tries to rile up the other.

You get caught in the middle in more ways than one.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None really

AO3: Here |  Want to support me? I have a Kofi

There were pros and cons to having two boyfriends.

You fought a never ending battle pulling hair from the shower drain. You had double the texts to reply to; double the calls to return. No matter how comfortable you were when you fell asleep, you always woke up with a crick in your neck and someone’s elbow in your face.

Hizashi craved attention more than oxygen and sulked if he felt even slightly neglected. He spent just as much time chasing kisses as he did styling his hair. He sang in the shower, the bathtub, the rain and was only too eager to drag one or both of you in for a duet. You learned the hard way not to stand next to him in front of the bathroom mirror, for he would bump his hips against yours until you sang along to the radio with him and you’d ended up with eyeliner halfway across your face more than once.

He would spend the day pouting if no one gave him a good morning kiss and drew smiley faces in ketchup if left to plate up at dinner. He was a handful and a terrible influence; the polar opposite of your other boyfriend in every possible way.

Shouta was neither loud nor demanding. He could go days without talking, much less singing, and was happiest dozing off on the couch with his head in someone’s lap. His affections were subtle and easy to miss, while the emotions behind them were anything but. He met you halfway when you reached out to touch him and smiled in his sleep if you kissed him on the forehead. He would complain if you wriggled into his arms while he was working, but rearrange his position to accommodate you nonetheless.

Hizashi needed attention, while Shouta rarely sought it and nine times out of ten you and Hizashi were the ones who did all of the seducing.

Today was no exception to that particular rule.

Summer had hit Musutafu seemingly overnight. It was too hot to sleep or even snuggle on the couch. All you seemed to do lately was curl up on the floor in front of the electric fan in as many clothes as you could bear, while Hizashi stood on the balcony in a tank and shorts, stretching like a cat and mopping the sweat from his brow. It was too hot for leather and too humid for hairspray- sacrifices he had had to make, but was far from happy about.

Shouta remained relatively unchanged. He still went out at night to patrol the streets and continued to plan classes on his laptop on the couch, changing into thinner clothes, but remaining otherwise unaffected.

He was on his laptop, in fact, on this day in particular, drafting out a plan for 1-A’s future training exercises. In the meantime, Hizashi had opened up the box of popsicles you’d been keeping in the freezer and the pair of you took turns in front of the electric fan.

It was only a matter of time before the quiet, heat and lack of attention got to Hizashi and he had rested his head on your lap, golden hair splayed across your thighs. At first it was enough to snake one of his hands under your shirt and cup your breast, but before long that too lost its appeal. He shot side glances at Shouta every so often, sighing and running his tongue over the popsicle.

And so it was you found yourself caught in a battle of wills.

Hizashi waited for Shouta to look over before touching his tongue to the ice. If his gaze lasted longer than a couple of seconds, Hizashi would curl his tongue. Shouta made a point to catch his eye and not react.

Both sides were too stubborn to cave and, as usual, it fell to you to break the tension.

You took the popsicle from Hizashi and leaned back, running your own tongue over the ice. It was on the verge of melting and syrup dripped onto your shirt, causing you to gasp most theatrically and pull the shirt away from your body as if it wasn’t in the least bit planned. At first Hizashi had pouted when you stole his popsicle, but now he was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“It’s rude to take things without asking, (Name),” he said, sitting up. “The least you can do is share.”

You held out the popsicle and he sucked at the end, leaning back to allow you to do the same. You made sure to moan far louder than was necessary, as if it was something far less innocent than a popsicle.

“Ahhh, it’s getting all over my mouth,” you said, wiping the syrup from your lips and chin. “What am I going to do?”

“I can help with that,” said Hizashi, seconds before grazing his lips over yours, checking to see if Shouta was watching before deepening the kiss.

His lips were cold and he tasted of mangoes, the same flavour as the popsicle you’d been sharing. It was sweet, but the realisation that Shouta had stopped typing was far sweeter.

Shouta didn’t seek attention out, that much was true, but he sure as shit hated being left out of the action.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before you ended up on your hands and knees in the bedroom. You dug your nails into the bedcovers as Hizashi gripped your hips and took you from behind, all while Shouta bunched your hair in his hands, kneeling in front of you and thrusting into your mouth.

You barreled forward every time Hizashi slammed his hips into yours, moaning from the sensation of his dick hitting the one spot that made your toes curl.

The sounds Shouta was making were obscene. The vibrations of your moans against his dick combined with the way each thrust sent it deeper down your throat left him trembling. He could do little more than hold onto your hair and even then his hands were shaking.

Hizashi was absurdly quiet, all things considered, though you couldn’t turn your head to see why. You got your answer when he made a wet sound behind you and let out a moan, something icy landing on the small of your back.

“Hizashi...are you...are you still eating the popsicle?”

“No.”

More syrup landed on your back.

“Maybe.”

You heard the smack of his lips as he put it back in his mouth only moments before he took up such an ungodly pace that you took Shouta’s cock into your hand and jerked him off, grabbing onto the bed covers so tightly that your knuckles went white. The tension inside of you was too much to bear. You felt like you were going to explode.

You squeezed your eyes shut and squealed as you came undone, mind falling blank and legs shaking. It was like an electric shock burning through your core, leaving you unable to do anything but absorb each pulse.

Hizashi slowed down to enjoy the feel of you cumming on his dick, but the reprieve lasted only a few short moments. He guided you down onto the bed and over onto your back, shifting positions with Shouta, who lifted your knees over his shoulders.

He didn't have remotely the same stamina as Hizashi. You doubted any human did. He was, however, girthier and only too happy to torment you with it. He took you slow and deep, dragging sighs from your lips at the overstimulation. You were still having aftershocks from cumming the first time and saw stars each time his hips hit yours.

You turned your head to lick the tip of Hizashi’s dick, matching the pressure and speed of Shouta’s thrusts. Hizashi sucked in a deep breath, leaning over to grab Shouta by the hair and moan into his mouth.

The first time you had ever had sex with Hizashi, he shattered every window in your apartment building. You had laughed it off as an earthquake, though got the feeling no one believed you.

You had learned the hard way that he was loud when he came and the easiest way to prevent it was to stifle the sound before it could leave his lips, be it with a gag, by sitting on his face, preoccupying him with a blowjob or, as was the case now, with kissing.

You lay on your back and watched them nip at each other’s lips, waves of pleasure rushing through you. You were glad Shouta was holding onto your legs, for it felt as if the bones had left your body.

Hizashi was the next to come, whimpering into Shouta’s kisses as his dick twitched. He sat up and gave himself a final couple of tugs before spilling over your chest. Shouta followed suit, sitting up onto his knees and coming across your stomach.

Double the boyfriends, you considered fleetingly, double the mess.

~~~~

You stayed in bed for at least an hour after that, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. It was still unbearably hot and no one was particularly enthusiastic about putting on clothes, even though the heat from one other’s bodies swiftly overpowered any relief from the electric fan.

“Why is it that whenever you two have shenanigans I end up in the middle?”

You could hear the fatigue in your own voice; the perfect compliment to how heavy your eyelids felt.

“I thought you liked being in the middle,” said Hizashi, only to squeak as you poked him in the ribs.

“I suppose I should take a bath,” you groaned, peeling Shouta’s arms from your waist and untangling your legs from Hizashi’s.

Your legs were more than a little floppy, but you disguised it by dropping to your knees to pick up your discarded clothes.

“(Name),” said Shouta, “wait.”

You turned to him, heart fluttering. Ordinarily he tolerated hugs at best, but on the rare occasions you managed to keep him awake after sex he was the biggest cuddler you’d ever met.

Maybe he wanted you to go back to bed.

Maybe he wanted to join you in the bath.

“Yes?”

“You’re blocking the fan.”

You turned to the fan behind you, heart sinking.

“And they say romance is dead,” you muttered, stepping out of the room.

Hizashi and Shouta closed their eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool air against their exposed skin. The peaceful moment was soon over, though, for seconds later you slipped your arm back through the doorway and flicked the off switch.

“Hey!!”

“(Name)!”

“Switch it back on, switch it back on!”

“Make me,” you said, sticking out your tongue and closing the door behind you.

“Oooooh,” Hizashi huffed, climbing out of bed. “When I catch you��”

He ran out of the bedroom and chased you through the apartment, paying little heed to the fact that you were both as naked as the day you were born.

Shouta turned over onto his side and fluffed his pillow.

He could sleep through just about anything; a fire alarm...hot weather...

...and, apparently, the sound of his two idiot lovers spraying one another with water.

[how-masterful]

Your Highness

Dhawan!master x reader

Summary: The Master turns to a night of comfort after returning back to the tardis with you, aiming to show his tired human some well deserved affection and care.

Notes: oh boy, here we go! All aboard the smutty express! Big thanks to @plethora-of-imagines for the help on this one, check out their blog for some incredible fics! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! ❤

Warnings: lemon!!!

It had been a long day for sure. You'd stolen the crowns of the snobbish royal leaders of Anpavir, leading their disgruntled servants into an uprising and burning their palace to the ground. You'd raced back to the TARDIS with no time to spare, the pair of you exhausted as the Master sent the TARDIS spiralling into the time vortex- you'd helped push a button here and pull a lever there, the flying lessons he'd indulged you with paying off as you helped guide the ship through cosmic turbulence.

The Master quickly crept around the console as you focused on familiarising yourself with the dials, grabbing your waist and spinning you in his arms as you squealed with glee. He reluctantly put you down after a while and grinned as you turned yourself to face him, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a gentle kiss. You sighed contently as you parted- gaze transfixed on his warm brown eyes, and cheekily fixed the stupidly ornate crown that was sat crooked on his head, brushing his hair to the side. You looked almost proud at the red lipstick smudge on his mouth.

You both looked slightly worse for wear, clothes lightly singed and covered in a layer of soot. Your faces were dusted with ash and the occasional black smudge, but he still looked positively radient to you- even with the slightly rough appearance.

The rugged look suits you, you thought, knowing he may have heard.

"Your highness has never looked more dashing" you teased, watching him smirk as he straightened up his shoulders, bowing his head.

"One has never seen such a fairer sight than thou, your majesty" he returned, making you giggle as you curtseyed in response.

The Master pulled your hips closer and playfully kissed you again, eyes full of wonder- you looked fit to rule in that crown on your head. "You suit that crown a whole lot more then that stuck up queen ever did" he said, brushing your hair over your shoulder and smiling at your blush.

"With a crown like that, I should be calling you king, not Master." The Master smirked at your teasing tone and pulled you closer to his chest, breath hot on your neck as his beard tickled the sensitive skin, making you shiver.

"Crown or no crown, i'll always be your Master" he purred, placing gentle kisses over your collarbone and pressing his fingertips lightly into your hips.

You let yourself go loose in his touch, nestling into his chest and humming in delight. You rolled your neck back and bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut as the master moved to hold your back, head tilting. He could tell you were tired by the way you simply melted into his arms, your eyes struggling to stay open as he placed a trail of kisses down your neck. He gingerly coaxed you back from your stupor with a peck on the lips, hand snaking into your scalp and massaging your hair.

You instinctively shivvered at his touch. Your eyes opened and met his gaze, a blush on your cheeks. "Come along, love. It seems her royal highness needs her beauty sleep."

You pawed at the Masters chest and shook your head, a whine of protest escaping your lips. "Hey hey, easy tiger." the Master teased, catching your hands and peppering kisses on their backs. "M' just worn out, thats all" you offered, expression gentle. "Running around burning palaces can tire a girl out."

The Master smiled down at you warmly, brushing a stray hair from your face. "Fine, at least let me run you a warm bath. You know I love a dirty girl but this is-" the Master started, making you giggle as he gestured to your rather messy attire.

You nodded at his plan- a bath sounded wonderful, your body sore from running and filling you with a dull ache. The Master suddenly scooped you up in his arms and held you to his chest, and you instinctively flung your arms around his neck. He'd never let you fall, of course, the Master placing a soft kiss to your temple as he carried you out of the console room and into the maze of winding corridors.

Being in his arms just felt so right. You could hardly remember life before the Master, life on earth, it had been so long and so perfect you hadn't thought to ever look back. You wouldnt give up your life with the Master for anything, not that he would ever let you go- you were madly in love not only with the lifestyle, but him. The universes most wanted criminal, who was currently whispering sweet nothings in your ear and carrying you bridal style to the large TARDIS bathroom, had stolen not only your life on earth but your heart.

"And dont ever ask me to give it back" the Master replied, grinning down at you as you hid your face in his chest, proud of his telepathy. Of course he heard you, you thought to yourself. "Im sure if you tried, it would break" you replied sheepishly. You gently scratched at his stubble with your fingertips, caressing over his jawline. He hummed in acknowledgement and met your gaze.

"How do you think I feel darling? I've got two on the line." His tone was teasing, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

The Master finally set you down as you arrived at the bathroom. A warm hand found its way to the small of your back as he moved you to sit on the side of the tub, the water running in a cascade as his attention turned back to you. You'd already started pulling off your jacket when the Master took your hands, a frown upon his features. "I do believe thats my job" he purred, taking the jacket from your hands and slowly moving it to the floor. Every touch was tender, fingertips gliding over your bare skin, his gaze never breaking from yours.

A careful hand brushed your hair over your shoulders, a shivver running up your arms as the Master knelt down on one knee before you. His hands menovered over your shoes as he pulled the boots off your feet, your socks soon to follow. You struggled for breath as his fingertips walked up your calves, hands caressing up your thighs and gingerly taking ahold of your pants button and zipper. He was purposely moving slow, teasing you, making sure you felt every touch and movement.

You pushed down on the edge of the tub as the Master gripped the waist of your jeans, pulling them over your hips as you raised off the lip of the bath. It was excruciating, his gaze fixated on your slowly appearing skin, fingertips brushing against the sensitive flesh. The Master slowly peeled the jeans off your legs, leaving your bottom half almost fully exposed. He almost looked as if he were salivating.

His warm hands moved to your thighs as he carefully spread your legs apart, exposing your underwear as he slotted himself in the now vacant space. You knew your eyes were wide, face flush and lip bitten as his gaze met yours, dark browns staring up at you intently. His lips moved to trail slow kisses against the soft flesh of your stomach, his gaze never faultering as you let out a desperate moan.

"Stand for me" the Master whispered, hands sneaking up to hold your hips. You nodded your head and let the Master guide you to the center of the room, hands snaking over the hem of your shirt. You could feel his breath on your neck, beard tickling your skin as he pulled the fabric up your torso at a painfully slow pace. The wait was agonizing.

You stood obediantly as the Master made his way up to your chest, lips moving to your ear as you let out a shaky breath. "Arms up, love" he ordered, and you instinctively lifted your arms. "Good girl" he praised, kissing your jaw as he pulled the shirt up over your chest, moving the material over your head and arms, leaving your shoulders bare.

He threw the top to the side, pulling your back closer against his chest. You hummed in pleasure and leant your head back on his shoulder, greedily moving his hands to your underwear and grinding up desperately against his palms. You needed him to touch you.

A low growl emerged and a hand quickly wound itself around your throat, fingers digging into the skin where his mouth once was, his lips close on your ear as you sucked in a struggled breath. "You move when Master tells you to, got it?" He hissed in the shell of your ear, a whimper passing your lips as you nod guiltily. "Now what do we say? Use our words, love" he teased, hand squeezing tighter on your throat.

"Yes Master, i'm sorry Master" you panted, feeling the hand leave your throat and stroke down your jaw- you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. "See, we do know how to behave, don't we?" He asked, his voice low as his thumb caressed over your bottom lip. You hummed in response. "Yes master, i'll be a good girl." The Master groaned lowly, slowly moving away from your body to face your front, marvelling at your figure with hungry eyes.

"So beautiful" he whispered, tilting your chin with his finger. His words made you visibly shiver, the Master grinning proudly as he moved closer, taking your jaw in his hand. "You love when Master compliments you, dont you?" He questioned, your eyes fixated on his lips. He followed your gaze and chuckled lowly, and moved his lips to meet your own, indulging you with a tender kiss that instantly sent you spiralling. There you were, stood in your underwear and a crown as you lost yourself in the masters hold, the running of the water the only sound beside the deafening thump of your heart.

"Let me" you whispered, fingers tucking into his belt loops when he broke for air. Your fingers moved to push his jacket off his shoulders, his chest rising and falling as the garment fell from his shoulder and hit the floor. Your hands danced over his soft stomach, undoing every button on his waistcoat eagerly, savering the touch as the masters breath hitched with a whisper "You're so good for me, so good." You eventually freed him from his waistcoat, shrugging it from his shoulders as you did the same to his shirt.

The Master stood there, breathless, your eyes rapidly engulfing the sight of his bare chest, lips smeared with bright red smudges. "You know what to do." The Masters voice was low and thick with lust, his hearts pounding at a rapid pace. You met his gaze and practically purred as your hands explored his warm chest, your lips placing kisses in a trail down each torso. Your lipstick left a trail of red in its wake, the sight making the Master groan and throw his head back, steadying his hands on your lowering shoulders.

"Yes" he hissed at the sensation, pride making your heart flutter. He was enjoying this as much as you were. You got down on your knees and undid the button on his trousers, hooded gaze meeting his ravenous eyes. Slowly, you bit down on the metal zipper, ensuring the time lord was watching, pulling it down its tracks with your teeth. The Master growled dangerously low as you teased him, pulling his trousers down to ankles, hands travelling over his thighs as you left kisses on the sensitive skin. You quickly pulled off his shoes and those damn purple socks, before removing his trousers from his ankles.

A hand crept into your hair. You gasped at the sensation of a gentle tug, the feeling of his fingertips on the nape of your neck making you whine.

"Master..." You moaned, hands clamoring at his hips. "Please...Master..." The Master stared down at you with blown pupils, lips parted in almost shock at the sight.

"You have no idea just how beautiful you look right now" he breathed, voice low and desperate. You blushed profusely as he guided you to stand, your hands brushing over the lipstick remenents on his skin. "You've really left your mark, havent you love?" He teased quietly, causing your ever present blush to deepen.

Before you could respond he pulled you in for a kiss, lips desperate on your own as a hand stroked up your spine, unclasping your bra. You pushed it off your shoulders and threw it in the pile with the rest of your clothes, pressing your now bare chest against his own. The constant rumble of two hearts beating a comforting drum beat, your lips attacking his own as his hand trailed down over your ass, causing you to gasp. You sighed contently.

"I think the bath's ready" you murmered against his lips, hand stretching out to turn the tap. The Master pulled you back to his chest and grinned, kissing you once again.

"You should see yourself" you giggled, his lipstick smeared grin matching your own.

"I'm too busy looking at you" he replied, a low chuckle acompanying his compliment. You playfully smacked his chest and smiled, the Master kissing your forehead before guiding you to the water.

You grasped ahold of his wrists and met his gaze. The Master looked confused for a moment, pondering your next move, until his eyes followed where you were guiding his hands. His grin became wolfish as he ran his finger under the lace edge of your underwear, an innocent smile gracing your lips as you kept ahold of his hands.

"Help me, Master?" You asked, lips pursed as the Master let out a struggled growl. "Always." He slowly guided your underwear off your hips and down your legs, perching yourself on the edge of the tub as his hands caressed down your legs again.

His touch was electric, sending shockwaves through your body as he stripped you fully naked. The last thing left was the heavy crown on your head, and the Master stepped back to marvel at you, hand scratching at his beard as you blushed. "I'll be back in a moment love, make yourself comfortable."

You gave a little wave as he left, turning your body towards the water. You dipped your toes into the warm, bubble covered water and groaned at the sensation- the warmth against your aching bones settling you down immensely. You leant back into the water and sighed contently- all that was missing now was your timelord, God knows where he'd gone off to. It was far too quiet with him gone.

The TARDIS seemed to read your thoughts, the warm glow of the room being acompanied by the soft sounds of vinyl echoing through the room. "Thanks, dear" you mused, the ship returning with a greatful hum. The tardis had taken an instant liking to you the moment you'd stepped aboard- perhaps she'd already known how happy you'd make her pilot. She was privy to the history of everything, past and present after all.

The Master soon reappeared, and you had to double take at the sight. There he was, leaning on the doorframe with a plate of strawberries, two wine glasses, and a bottle of something dark you were half sure wasnt wine. He still wore the ornate crown atop his head, his ash covered form highlighted by the miriam of lipstick kisses across his body. You couldn't help but smile.

He was positively breathtaking.

"Wow" you whispered, the Master chuckling as he made his way to the bathtub. "You humans, always easy to impress."

He set the plate and the glasses on the side table, pouring out the red bottle and handing you the glass. You took a sip as the Master quickly stripped off his underwear, sliding into behind you and situating you on his lap.

You instantly nestled yourself against his chest, his arm wrapped around your middle. Your bodies melded together perfectly, as if you were purposely made to fit in his arms. "You just fit there so perfectly, dont you?" He charmed, making you blush again. You gently pecked his lips as you took another sip, raising your glass.

"Cheers" you smiled as the Master clinked his glass against your own. "Cheers indeed"

You sat together in a comfortable silence for what felt like hours as the vinyl played on, the Master pliantly feeding you strawberries as you nestled closer to his chest. You couldnt help but ask how you got so lucky- the most dangerous renegade in the universe, a time lord of all races, was treating you like a queen. He'd stolen you a crown.

You'd managed to pry yourself into every part of his hearts. A human, of all things, managed to tame the deadliest enemy of the doctor, the wildest beast of the universe. He was legend, his crimes dating back millenia, his reputation rolling out a blood soaked red carpet. And you had him in the palm of your hand.

"I never want to leave your arms" you sighed contently, breaking the silence. "Its my favorite place in the universe" The Master grinned, taking another sip from his glass. He pulled you tighter to his body and drew circles with his thumb on your hips. "You're so warm, you smell so damn good..." The Master laughed at that, causing you to giggle with him. Your gazes interlocked, the Masters gaze held a tenderness reserved for you and you alone. His pulse was a steady thump against your back, the four beats of the timelords hearts grounding you in the perfect moment. You needed to be there, you were destined to be in his arms.

"You've bewitched me, love" the Master took another strawberry from the plate, bringing it to your lips. They gently parted as you bit down on the sweet fruit, the timelord catching the running juice with his thumb. You gingerly licked the juice from his fingertips, placing kisses in your wake as he placed the leaves back on the plate.

"And I don't plan on letting you go easily, I never thought i'd find you to begin with." You leant closer to his chest, contently letting your head rest on his shoulder.

"But here you are, and you just fit so perfectly, as if you were made for me. Like Frankensteins monster and his beautiful bride." you smiled warmly, taking another sip of your glass and licking your lips.

"But the bride was horrified by the monster in the film, and in the book she was destroyed before she was even finished- because the universe decided the creature didnt understand love enough to deserve her." You supplied. The master hummed in response, tilting his head in thought. You turned to face him and reached for his cheek, thumb caressing over his warm skin, glass discarded on the side table.

"And you're no monster, Master. Not to me you're not."

The master smiled charmingly, eyes suddenly lit with something inherently devilish. You gasped lowly as you suddenly felt his fingertips snaking across your thigh, trailing slowly to the inside and tentatively stroking against your clit.

"Oh really, love?" He teased, teasing your entrance as your teeth bit hard on your bottom lip. "Because to me, Y/N, monsters and I have always had the same desire. Do you want to know what it is?"

You scrunched your face, head falling back as his fingers slowly began dancing around the outside of your hole. You bucked your hips in the water, sending waves splashing against the sides of the tub as the masters other hand teasingly stroked up your torso. He was taking it slow, easing his fingers over your entrance, teasing every part of you. Your breath was shaking in anticipation, the Masters chuckle as thunder on your skin as he delicately dragged his thumb over your nipples, grinning at the reaction that caused.

"What...what Master?" You choked out, voice strangled against the oncoming moan pulling from your throat. The Master laughed dangerously low in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and grinning with absolute delight.

"The desire to make you scream." he growled, before plunging two of his fingers deep into your core.

You let out a desperate cry of pleasure, eyes squeezing shut tight as you bucked your hips once more. His fingers were deliberate, thrusting in and out at a steady speed as you writhed in the tempesting water. You could feel his hearts thumping against your back, head thrown back onto his shoulder, the Masters breath shallow and ragged as you chanted his name. His other hand was taking hold of your breasts, actively teasing your nipples with his thumb and rubbing up and down your torso. The combination of the sensations was driving you wild.

His gaze was heavy with hunger, devouring your form as your walls clenched around his thrusting fingers. Your moans were scattered and gutteral, crown still perched on your headhead as the timelord continued to thrust steadily, all the while teasing your clit with his thumb. Hands flung to clutch onto the sides of the bath, fingers grasping hold of the edge to ground yourself against his constant motion. The Masters name fell so easy from your lips, his mouth hot on your neck as he bit across the tender skin, leaving a fierce trail of bitemarks in his wake.

"Please, Master please" you groaned, arching your neck as the timelord hungrily knawed at your skin between his kisses. He began to spread his fingers inside of you, curling his digits and pumping steadily, sending another shockwave of desperate pleasure through your form. The bath water had begun to slosh over the sides, your own wetness spilling out into the bubbles as the Master began to growl against your skin. The sensations were deliciously overwhelming. His other hand spread itself under your chest, groping and grabbing in rhythm all the while you moaned in desperation.

The Master was chanting deep into the crook of your neck, teeth bared on soft flesh. It was all becoming too much, the tension building in your abdomen as your walls clenched tighter around his fingers. Your neck was red raw from his lips, nails digging into the edge of the tub, water still flying over the sides as you ground your hips against his touch. The timelord could tell you were reaching your climax, digits scissoring inside you and releasing another howling scream of delight from your lips.

"Such a good girl, holding on until I say so. 'Cause you want to cum, don't you?" His voice was rough and tone commanding, your heart pounding at the thrill.

A groan of agreement pulled itself from your throat, bottom lip bleeding from the pressure of your teeth. The Master snarled, quickening his pace and thrusting his fingers harder inside your hole. The heightened friction sent your hips bucking wildly. "Yes! Yes, Master yes" you cried out, throwing your head back further and pushing grasping onto his arm. His fingertips crept up your chest to your neck, grazing over your throat as you choked out a babbling flow of moans and screams. You were falling apart in his arms, lips parted in a desperate 'O' as he grasped hold of your neck.

"One more time love, say it out strong- do you want to cum?" He demanded, curling his fingers deeper inside you and steadying his rhythm as you writhed your hips up. You whined audibly, body trembling with anticipation as his grip squoze tight on your throat. A desperate gasp escaped you- your eyes squeezing tighter shut as you proclaimed out for all to hear.

"Yes! Master, please yes!"

The timelord leant up to your ear, breathing heavy against the side of your face. He placed a kiss to your temple and hummed against the drenched skin, your body shaking desperately.

"Cum for me." He ordered.

The release was almost instant.

You felt yourself fall over the edge, a tidalwave of bliss submerging you as you released onto the masters fingers, orgasm spilling out into the lapping water. Your whole body sank, arching hips crashing down into the waves as a gutteral cry of cathartic satisfaction ripped itself from your lungs. Legs shaking, chest rising and falling at rapid pace, your eyes fluttering open with a lazy huff. The Masters fingers still inside you, you buried your face in his neck, the hand clasped around your throat relenquishing its grasp.

You took a while to gather yourself, thighs rubbing together as the timelord tenderly retracted his fingers from your hole. You were completely and utterly spent, laying weak in the Masters arms, lips parted, the Masters hands guiding you down as a gentle touch caressed over your hip. There was merely silence, the distant echo of the ever playing vinyl melting into the white noise of the steadying water, the Masters hearts racing in his chest.

His gaze fell on your fluttering lashes, a tender hand reaching to hold the side of your cheek as he chuckled almost proudly. "I must confess love, that was quite the scream."

You nodded weakly, a small smile playing on your lips. If you werent exhausted before, you were positively sleep deprived now.

"You did so well for Master, you're such a good girl." His words were much needed comfort, the adrenaline still coarsing through your system. You nuzzled yourself deeper into his hold, struggling to keep your eyes open as the threat of sleep ever loomed. The Master could tell, a smug grin on his features as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "Look at you, Y/N. Now what did I say earlier? I knew you were tired."

You couldnt bring yourself to deny it, humming against his neck and allowing your limp body to submit to his hold. The master tilted his head and scrunched his nose adoringly, a gentle kiss finding its way to your forehead, the crown still firmly perched atop your head making him smile tenderly.

"Come along, Sleeping Beauty, up you get. Time to renounce your throne for the night."

The world faded in and out of view from your heavy lashes, your body numb to the outside world as you let the Master guide you out of the tub and carry you to the bedroom, drying you off gently limb by limb. Soon your dried off body collided with the warmth of your bedsheets, the crown that sat atop your head tentatively placed upon the bedside table, loving fingers sifting through your hair as you buried your face deep into the pillow.

"Master?.." You called into the darkness, words slurred and voice croaking. Warm arms curled around your waist, pulling your back to the comfort of a bare chest, fingers drawing circles over your bruised hips as you settled into their comforting hold.

"I'm here, love." The master pressed his face into your shoulder, peppering slow kisses over the delicate flesh. You let out a gentle sigh, sinking deeper into the bed.

"G'night...love you Master..."

The master hummed comfortingly in reply, his embrace allowing you to slip into the calling slumber with ease. He smiled into your skin as he felt you fall asleep in his arms, the timelord drawing mindless symbols as he pondered in thought. Once he was sure you were truly asleep, he allowed himself to shut his eyes. He didnt need sleep, not tonight anyway, but the passing comfort of shutting his eyes was too good to resist.

"Love you too, your highness." He promised into the dark, the words echoing through his mind as they dissipated into the walls of your bedroom.

The Master smiled knowingly. He knew one day he'd be able to say it back to your face, to say it to you when you were awake to hear it. But, as your gentle breathing fluttered out into the night, he decided the comfort of the midnight dark would suffice. For now, at least.

You'll hear it one day, he told himself, a smirk playing on his lips. But as you curled yourself tighter into his embrace he was sure, in some way, that you already knew.

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[pupa-ar]

Snake Janus Headcanons

I tried to include as many snakey habits as I could. I’m sure I missed some so I’ll probably keep adding to this, feel free to expand and add your own as well!

Shedding his skin. He sheds his skin around four times a year, and it always sucks

The whole process lasts about a week. During this time he gets snappy and irritable, so Remus has started calling Janus’s shedding week his period

The scaled parts of his body shed like regular snakes, and the human parts shed like a scaleless snake

In general it’s very itchy and uncomfortable. He wears oversized clothing to reduce contact to his skin

He’s almost always itching/rubbing his skin. He’ll unconsciously rub against objects too

He goes ‘in blue,’ a period of time right before he sheds. Basically his eyes turn blue and he goes blind in the snake eye

When the shedding starts he begins peeling it from his head down to his feet. Sometimes Remus helps

It’s never in one big, perfect piece, but the pieces are rather large

Remus takes the shed skin

Baths help during shedding week!! Lots of long baths

He’s rather proud and puts up a villain persona so nobody (except Remus) knows about his shedding week. Remus only gets to help during the actual shedding process because he insists

Janus will just disappear for the week and not see anyone, then return like everything’s normal

Moving on to cold-blooded Janus!

He doesn’t emit warmth, and his skin is rather cool to the touch

His room is noticeably warmer than the others rooms, he can manually control the heat to suit his needs

He loves sunbathing in warm, sunny spots like a cat. If he’s by himself he’ll lay down in the spot and fall asleep, but if he’s in the shared mind palace he’ll turn into a snake and curl up

He’s unconsciously attracted to the heat the others always give off

He’ll lean against them, sit close to them on the couch, etc. he never notices he’s doing it until someone points it out.

He does not deal with cold well

Some snakes hibernate, so when he gets really cold he gets sleepy. If it’s like frostbite level cold and he’s exposed to it a long time he will go into hibernation until he’s warmed up.

He prefers warm food and drinks, so lots of tea, hot chocolate, and cooked meals

If he drinks ice-cold water in a cold room he’ll shiver violently.

The snake side of his face can open all the way back, he just chooses to keep it shut most of the time

Times when he does open it are when he’s eating or yawning

When he yawns he actually morphs both sides of his face to open super wide like a snake. It freaks out some of the others

He doesn’t need to eat three meals a day, snakes eat a large meal and digest it over a while. He does the same. It’s less drastic than a snakes eating schedule though

He can go about three or four days without eating. The days when he does eat he’s in the kitchen most of the day making large meals to hold him over the next few days

He can eat like a regular person, and he does most of the time, but sometimes he’ll just swallow whatever he’s eating whole without chewing it. It’s kind of like unconscious instinct.

He CAN dislocate his jaw and swallow entire meals whole. He did it once because Remus wanted to see it but he considers it rather undignified, so he doesn’t.

You know how some people have lisps and their lisp becomes more prominent the more emotional they get? Janus is the same but he draws out the s on his words.

He also hisses like Virgil, but it’s more of a ‘sssssss’

Forked tongue! It’s basically a human tongue with a fork in it. He can elongate it, much to the delight of Remus.

He smells just fine with his nose, but if he sticks his tongue out/opens his mouth he can smell stuff extra-well

The vision in his snake eye is different than the human one. It used to throw him off like crazy, but he’s used to it now

Another thought: he’s blind in the snake eye. It’s not normally an issue, but he does sometimes trip over furniture or accidentally bang into something

Fangs!! Haven’t decided if I want him to have a set of snake fangs, one human canine and one snake fang, or fangs that can retract into the roof of his mouth like a viper

If it’s the last one he has venom! It’s either normal snake venom or special venom with special properties, like putting people to sleep. He might even be able to choose the properties themselves

Keeping old venom hurts, so he has to milk it out every once and a while. If you don’t know what I’m talking about look up ‘venomous snake milking’

Sometimes the fangs break off, so he’ll swallow the old one and wait for the new one to grow in. He’s like a shark

He can talk with snakes. Subsequently, he owns a snake

He can also turn into a snake. He does so when he’s seeking warmth, so he’ll either curl up in a sunny spot or one of the sides will pick him up and let him rest on their shoulders

When some snakes mate they’ll twine their tails together. Janus will twine his snake self/tail around the arm/finger/leg of a side holding him. If he and another side are sitting right next to each other he’ll hook his foot over theirs. When he does this he’s at complete ease and feels safe around the other side.

If he and a side are cuddling he’ll grow his six arms and completely wrap himself around them, both for warmth and to show he cares about them

He can dislocate his jaw at will

The interior of his mouth is a mix between snake and human

His scales are smooth and cool to the touch. They don’t completely cover his left side in a perfect split, but they do cover the majority of his left side

[happinessisbeyondmylevel]

HA: Ch. 8 Aaraghost

Chapter summary: Heather begins her training with Aaravos, gaining new arcana quickly. To aid her training, Aaravos offers her a lens with which to see him.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7

“So, how does a Sunfire elf get the name ‘Heather’?” Aaravos asked.

Heather held one eye closed, sitting by a stream under the moonlight. “My father’s name is a pun, and so’s mine. I was found in a heather bush. My full name is Heather Bush Scorchmarkadopteddaughter.”

She expected him to laugh, but he didn’t.

“I see, so how does your father get his name?”

Heather smiled. “When he’d have temper-tantrums as a baby, he’d leave scorch-marks on the wall.” She really wanted to open her eye; it cramped her muscles to keep holding this permanent wink.

“That sounds amusing.” The caterpillar looked up at the moon. “It is ready.”

She lay down on the ground and the caterpillar peeled off the silvery gum from between her eyelids. It crawled back on to her ear and she opened her eye, sitting against a tree trunk.

In front of Heather sat a pale, glowing, midnight-blue male Startouch elf with long hair and the prettiest horns she had ever seen. Her eyes focused on his ensemble of robes and split in his top. Set in the centre of his chest was a darkened star; the symbol of the Fallen Star.

“That’s what you look like?” Heather asked, furrowing her brow.

He smiled. “Surprised?”

She shrugged. “How do I know you actually look like this?”

Aaravos laughed. “I would not lie to you, Heather, nor would I change my beauty.”

She sighed. “I guess I walked right into that.” She looked aside. “I feel even more insane now that I can see you. Not like talking to a caterpillar was enough.”

He chuckled. “I thought you wanted my guidance?”

Heather frowned. “I know. It’s just strange, I guess, talking to a bug.”

“I can imagine.” He smirked. “If it helps, consider it a familiar, something that will aid you for the time being, until I can physically be at your side.”

She nodded and leaned her head back. They were just a few days from Katolis and she was eager to meet Aaravos in the flesh. There was something about him she pitied. Perhaps it was the isolation he was in, or knowing that he went through the same transformation she was going through—but with a teacher who made him regret his love of magic.

Heather looked at the stars between the cluster of leaves above. She wondered what it was like to understand the star arcanum yet still be grounded.

“What are you thinking about?”

“The stars.” She eyed three stars in perfect alignment. “What’s the star arcanum?” she asked, looking back at the translucent figure in front of her.

“To understand something so vast is hard, and so every being who earns their stars has a different perception of the arcanum,” Aaravos said. “And even so, it takes years to figure it out.”

Heather sighed. “Okay.” She looked down at the ground, where Phil glowed among the dark grass and shadowy undergrowth. He pecked the ground, trying to find a bug to eat, but to no avail.

“What is your understanding of the Earth arcanum?”

She thought for a second. “I think... Earth magic comes from the land itself and takes form through minerals and plants and animals—even those that are connected to different primal sources. Earth is strong and balanced and can endure almost anything the sky, ocean and other primal sources can throw at it.”

Something sparked inside her as she said the words, like what she felt when Khonsu struck her with Moon magic.

Aaravos smiled. “You felt something, didn’t you?”

Heather nodded. “I feel... different again.”

“You know the Earth arcanum. You’re a fast learner, Heather.”

She looked down at her hands. “Will I look different?” she asked Aaravos

“There is only one way to find out,” he said, looking at the moonstone necklace around Heather’s neck.

Heather held the stone and stood up, walking over to the stream. She looked at her reflection as Aaravos walked into view in the corner of her eye.

“Are you scared?”

“I think so,” she said. “I don’t like change. Especially when I have no control over it.” She looked to him. “What if Papa changes his mind again? I don’t want to be all alone again.”

“Heather, he’s your father. He has a duty to care for you. He made his choice a long time ago, and he has accepted that so far, so let him deal with the consequences of it.”

“I’m a consequence, huh? Thanks,” Heather replied grimly.

“What I meant is that if your father won’t take care of you, he is evil and isn’t worth worrying over.”

Heather scowled at him and ground her teeth. How dare he say such things without even knowing Papa.

“And I’ll deal with him if he abandons his little Heather Bush again,” he continued, ignoring her glare.

She looked down. “Will he do that again?”

Aaravos paused. “Not from what I can see. He is truly remorseful for what he said and he has missed you greatly.”

Heather inclined her head, looking at her rippling reflection. “Thank you,” she breathed. She wasn’t sure why she was thanking him, but she felt she had to.

She carefully removed her necklace and held it in her hand. Strands of blue magic snaked from her skin into the stone, revealing her violet skin and patchy white and brunette hair. She looked down at her hands; they were peach, and her arms darkened to pink, purple and then violet at her shoulders.

Aaravos looked her over. “It suits you. And I’m sure it’ll look even better when your hair and horns changes. and not to mention your stars,” he complimented

Heather shrugged. “I guess.” she slid on her necklace again and looked over her shoulder, to the small glowing campfire beyond the trees. “We should get back,” she mused, looking at his apparition.

Raising her hand to her eye, she removed the frosted, circular lens from it and placed it in a circular coin-sized container filled with water. She closed the lid and turned around, retreating towards the campfire. She scooped up Phil. “What do you call that form?” she asked the caterpillar, placing Phil on her shoulder.

“Why? Are you going to give it a name like the caterpillar?” ”But Wormavos suits it,” she insisted. “I was thinking Aaraghost.”

Aaravos sighed. “Very well. If you think so.”

*-*-*-*

Heather looked up at the high walls outside of Katolis’ castle. Its walls were as tall as Spireville’s and it was well defended with human guards dotted every few metres on top.

“How are you feeling, Sparkles?” she murmured.

“Fine,” replied Aaravos.

“The days haven’t been too long for you?”

“They’ve felt longer than usual, and I’m sure they’ll feel even longer when you arrive at the castle and won’t know how to free me.” He sighed, and the caterpillar shifted its legs on Heather’s ear.

“I’m sure the Master Mages will figure the spell out,” Heather assured, raising her hand to stroke the caterpillar. She reached for her belt, pulling out the round metal container that held her lens.

“Not that I can see,” he said grimly, and Heather placed the lens on her eye.

She blinked twice and looked to her side, where a gloomy Aaravos sat upon his primal stead. “I’m sure it’s because Kalani hasn’t arrived and so they don’t know yet how to release you,” Heather said, trying to be comforting.

Aaravos looked from her to the ground. “At least I’ll be able to train you better while we wait. Especially with the Ocean arcanum you learned yesterday.”

Heather wished she were as good with people as she was with archery. She wished she knew how to comfort people.

“Besides a few whatever’s is nothing compared the last three centuries. And now that I have you to focus on, I’ll have company.”

She looked down. “I’ll try to be entertaining.”

Phil chirped for Heather’s attention. She looked down at him and he blinked up at her with big red eyes.

Heather picked up Phil and placed him on her shoulder-guard. “Phil says he’ll try and keep you company as well.” the phoenix hatchling settled down on her shoulder, tucking his wings in close to himself. “But until then,”—she looked up as they walked through the portcullis—”we have a castle to explore and a mirror to find.”

[certifiedskywalker]

Out Of This World - Carol Danvers

Anonymous said:

Hello, woaaa I just read your Carols Danvers/Reader fic and it was amazing. I see that you have requests open, so can I ask for a fic of Carol being the shy one with the reader? Thank you!

AN: I’m glad you liked the imagine! I hope you like this one too! Sorry for the wait!

Having trained and lived on Hala, the Kree home planet, for a majority of her known life, Vers had been surrounded by powerful individuals. Minerva and Yon-Rogg were the ones she remembered the best; both were agile, strong, and hardheaded. So those were the traits that she admired in others. Even when Vers became Carol, finding herself on Earth, those qualities still remained the most admirable. Something Carol didn’t realize however, was how differently those traits could manifest in other life forms.

“This is Agent L/N, by the way,” Nick said, gesturing to where you sat in the driver's seat. You catch Carol’s eye immediately, not needing Nick’s hands to lead her to your beauty. “The best driver Shield’s got!”

“The fastest driver, Fury,” you correct, peering in the rear-view mirror to spare a glance at the alien in your backseat. She looked human; pretty with brown eyes that met yours for a split second before glancing out the window.

“There’s a difference?” Nick asked through a boisterous chuckle. You snickered, shaking your head before glancing in the rear-view again. Her blonde hair glinted in the sunlight that spread its rays across her face as you drove. Before she caught you staring, you peeled behind the car to find the other aliens that were hot on your tails.

“Best implies a strong survival rate,” you teased, smiling when you heard Carol gasp in the back seat. You grinned at her in the mirror, giving her a wink. “Fast gets you where you want to go.”

“Don’t kill us,” Carol snapped, but you didn’t miss the blush that rose to her cheeks. You laughed again, slamming your foot on the gas to speed away from the secluded base the eclectic pair had trashed. At the sudden burst of force, Carol spun her eyes back to the front seat. Nick hooted and hollered as you drove down the horribly paved road.

Soon enough, when the Skrulls were out of sight, you were cheering too. Carol had never seen such a wonderful smile. Especially not on Hala, where smiles outside of a sparring match victory seemed to go to die. You turned your head suddenly, that grin still on your lips as you caught her eyes. Carol flushed once more, barely holding your gaze. She couldn’t place the foreign feeling growing in her gut as it spread to her chest.

“Where to, darling?” You ask, laying on a thick drawl as a joke. However, the reaction it brings out of Carol makes you wish you did with purpose. Her skin turned a shade of pink that softened her hard expression. You chuckled to yourself and Nick rolled his eyes.

“I have an address of a lead,” Carol said after a few moments, “the home of Maria Rambeau.” She passed a file to Nick who flipped through the papers. He read out the address and you mentally mapped the route in your mind, with the help of a map.

“Sounds like a road trip,” you teased, glancing at Carol in the mirror one last time. She was looking out the window at the landscape that raced by. She was smiling though and it seemed like the stars turned into galaxies in her eyes.

-

The hotel was dingey to say the least. Dust covered the room you entered, Carol and Nick on your heels as you unlocked the door. The action kicked up the dirt so specks of it floated in the air like untethered balloons. Nick squeezed, rubbing his nose as he flopped down on the bed. He started taking off his watch as he claimed the stiff mattress as he own.

“There’s only two beds,” Carol observed, squinting at Nick whose eyes were already starting to close.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, “so?” You glanced around the room in search for a comfortable solution but found only a desk chair. With a smile on your face, you turned to Carol.

“Guess we’re sharing. If that’s alright with you?” She briefly held your eyes, but soon torn her gaze away in a panic. You saw how hard she swallowed, her throat gliding beneath the skin on her neck. If she were a human, you would assume she was nervous; however, Carol was an alien and you had no idea how her biology worked.

“F-Fine.” Carol shed her jacket, throwing it over the back of the desk chair with an almost childlike disdain. She soon followed suit, flopping down on the worn cushion. Nick sighed loudly, rolling over on his side to rest. Carol rolled her eyes at the sight before adding, “we leave at first light.”

“Whatever you say, Captain,” Nick grumbled before settling further into the uncomfortable bed. You grinned at your friend’s sassy exhaustion before your sent your gaze Carol’s way. She fiddled with the rips in her jeans, pulling at loose threads to occupy her mind.

“You alright?” You sat yourself on the edge of the bed so you could be on her level. Carol didn’t turn in the desk chair, her eyes still trained on her jeans.

“There’s an invasion force on your planet,” she said, turning in her chair to face you now, “I should be asking you if you’re alright.”

“You’re the one who’s out of this world,” you teased, the words falling off your tongue with an ease that Carol had never experienced before. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so flirty, but you couldn’t deny how you loved Carol’s blush. The woman fell silent, mulling over you words as you began to prepare for bed. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the hotel room window as you closed the curtains. Carol was still sitting in the desk chair as you settled under the covers.

You debated whether to say something more, maybe even apologize, but a wave of tiredness washed over you. As you sank into the mattress, Carol glanced over at you. With your eyes closed a few moments, she was able to take in the softer sight of you. You had been witty and confident on the drive to the hotel. Now, snuggled up in the duvet, Carol wondered why you held such power over her. You yawned suddenly, prompting the woman to tear her eyes away.

“Night, lady,” you said, curling up on your side of the bed. Your feet were nearly dangling off of the side of the bed as you wanted to be sure Carol would have enough room. With eyes closed, you could only listen as Carol shuffled around the room. Soon enough you heard the clicking of the lamp as the light shut off. The bed dipped as Carol laid beside you and you could feel the heat of her body near yours.

“Night, Y/N.” Her voice is gentle when it reaches your ear, just light enough where it doesn’t stop you from drifting into the haze of sleep. In your dreams, her words echo from disembodied lips. The sight would be alarming, but with her voice, the open mouth could swallow you whole without you shedding a hint of fear. You find that, with Carol by your side, you get the best rest you had had in months. Shield’s work hours had been picking up, so any respite was pleasant. Even more so with her by your side.

When you started to stir from sleep, you felt warm. In your groggy state of mind you imagined Nick waking up in the middle of the night to turn on the heat. He always complained about how cold his feet would get when he sleeps. However, as you peeled open your eyes, you found that the warmth was not emanating from the heater at all.

One of Carol’s arms had snaked around your waist as you slept, with one of her legs hooked around your own. The pointed features of her face were pressed into your upper arm, the light breaths passing over her lips tickling the skin there. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was strange, alien in all senses of the word, yet you could not quell her allure. There was just something about her.

“Ya know, we had a rule with fraternizing with the enemy,” Nick said suddenly, drawing your attention to where he stood with a mug of crappy coffee in his hands.

“You still don’t trust her?”

“I trust her,” he clarified, “but with her powers, she could bring a lot of danger to our world. She already has”

“That’s not her fault,” you shot back, trying to keep your voice down for Carol’s sake. What you didn’t know was that she was hearing every word. The Kree had a habit of light sleeping, always on the lookout for danger. So she heard how you defended her with a stubbornness that rivaled Fury’s with a passion. Yet another thing she had to admire about you.

“I’m not saying it is,” Nick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “we just need to be careful around her. Make sure she doesn’t go in over her head.”

“I think she can handle herself,” you snapped, a bit more loudly than you had intended. It was then Carol opened her eyes, ready to thank you for defending her, but then she realized how close you were. Or, actually, how close she was to you. Swiftly, to hide her embarrassment, Carol pulled her limbs from your body and leaped from the bed. You yelped, nearly tumbling off of the mattress as Carol zipped away from you.

“Whoa!” Nick exclaimed, “easy now, tiger. You want to get going, yeah?” Carol didn’t turn to face either of you as she grabbed her jacket from her chair.

“Yes,” she grumbled, throwing the leather covering over her shoulders. She glanced over at you as she opened the door to the hotel room. Her eyes were bright with emotion, something raw you had not seen in her gaze before. “The sooner the better.”

With that, Carol marched out the door and left you speechless. “You always did go after the hard headed ones,” Nick sighed before abandoning his tasteless cup of coffee. “We’ll be by the car.”

Nick soon followed Carol outside, leaving you alone to get ready for the day. You grumbled as you pulled yourself from bed. Parts of your body were still aflame from Carol’s touch, tingling with the memory of the contact. She was fiery and, despite only knowing her for such a short amount of time, she had branded some part of you that was felt long untouched. You only hoped she wouldn’t burn you like the others.

-

“You’re really talented,” you praised Monica as her tiny hands lifted the colored pencil from the paper. Her sparkling, chocolate brown eyes peered up at you with a equally as bright, toothy grin.

“You think so?” She asked in awe, studying your features for any sign of fallacy. Smiling, you sat in the empty seat beside her, picking up the piece of art she had worked on. It was of Carol, decked out in her strang suit with the leather jacket over it. For a younger girl, Monica was great at art. Some of her earlier drawings decorated the Rambeau home where they could be admired by humans and alien visitors alike.

“Think so?! I know so,” you assured as you ruffled her curls. “Don’t I look like an art critic? I swear I am, or was in a past life.” Monica giggled at your words before getting back to work. Pleased you had calmed her curiosity for the time being, you peered down the hall. Maria and Nick were watching intently as Carol fired more questions at the new green addition. Talos, the Skrull under interrogation, seemed somber as he replied. Their voices were much too hushed for you to pick up on anything.

Instead of prying, you turned back to Monica and watched her draw. She was busy at work, the colored lead scratching along the surface of the construction paper as she sketched an outline of a new human figure. Soon enough, the features beared a resemblance to you. You smiled as her small hands began another figure, more slim with long blonde hair. Carol.

“You two make a good team,” she said, never once looking up from her drawing. “Like, you two are gonna save the world!”

“Well, I think Carol is going to do most of the heavy lifting,” you remarked, “I’m just a driver.”

“A good one, to boot. You’re needed here, Y/N.” You turned in your seat at the sound of Carol’s voice. Her brown eyes were trained on you, a loose smile on her lips. Ever since she had listened to the tape and found her own truth, something within her had shifted. You could see that change plainly now in her renewed confidence. It made you flush.

“Any plan yet?” You asked, hoping to distract from your burning cheeks. Monica went back to her drawing and Carol nodded in response.

“Yeah, come outside and I’ll explain.” You nodded and turned to Monica to pat her shoulder. She smiled up at you, curls bouncing as she spun her head to peer up at you.

“I’ll give this to you when it’s done,” she beamed and you sent her a wink before following Carol outside to the Rambeau’s porch. The sun was sunsetting as you stood on the creaking panels of wood. Carol watched the sky with arms crossed over her chest in thought. She looked stoic and absolutely fearless now as you came up beside her.

“So what’s the pla-”

“Kree are merciless warriors who, mostly through genetic manipulation, have pushed their emotions to the back parts of their minds. They’re a distraction really. That belief was reinforced with my training, but it never really stuck.” Carol now turned her eyes to hold your gaze. Despite her dark reflection, her eyes were soft.

“I mean, you are stubborn,” you let out a nervous chuckle, hoping to relieve some of the tightness in your chest as Carol stare at you. She chuckled and nodded, eyes not leaving you.

“Since coming her, learning that I’m human, I realized why. I have felt every emotion, in spite of the Kree’s teachings. At least I thought I had, until I met you.” You raised an eyebrow and Carol continued. “Whenever you would look at me I would feel….nauseous, but in a good way. Like I want to be around you but I was scared that something might push you away. I asked Fury about it and-”

“You asked Fury?” Your question brought a blush to Carol’s cheeks and she nodded shyly. You laughed and shook your head as you knew that he would use this against you in some fashion.

“He told me that I liked you, but I knew that already, so he told me that I was nervous around you because I liked you. I’ve never been nervous before, Y/N.” The way she said your name pulled your eyes to hers and you felt yourself leaning closer.

“They’re nothing wrong with feeling that way,” you breathed, hoping to give her some comfort. Carol nodded, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders as she did. Her eyes glanced away from yours to gaze at your lips, but made their way back up again.

“I don’t want to feel that around you,” she whispered, “I want to feel good around you.”

“I can help with that,” you said, a teasing smile playing on your lips. You lifted a tentative hand to Carol’s cheek, her skin warm underneath your fingertips. It was like she was a living furnace. Your other hand tugged at her waist, pulling her close until your lips were brushing over hers. “Are you sure you want to feel this?”

Carol’s breath hitched when your lips brushed against hers, her hands gripping your arms now. “Yes,” she keened, “more than sure.” With that, you leaned forwards and captured her lips in a soft kiss. Your fingers worked into the light tresses of her hair, getting lost in the waves of silkiness. You didn’t mind the feeling of getting lost in Carol’s touch. In fact, you were more than happy about it. Pecking her lips one last time, you pulled away and smiled when you saw her eyes were still closed.

“You are out of this world,” you wondered, brushing some of her hand behind her ear. Carol smiled then, opened her eyes to hold your gaze. Stars seemed to dance in her eyes as she watched you. With a sudden gush of bravery, Carol leaned forwards and pressed her lips to yours once more. It felt as if the cosmos in her eyes poured out of her lips and filled you with the light grace of outer space. A feeling you would not soon forget.

[sweetbunnykook]

You’re My Clyde, Am I Your Bonnie? (M)

Word Count: 4,824 // Angst (trigger: slight mention of a suicide attempt), Fluff, Smut (blowjob, anal play, humiliation/dirty talk)

Criminal!Hoseok X Prostitute!Reader

Summary: Hoseok kills for you and you love him even more

“You’re so bad at this, baby.”

Without turning around you could tell the voice belonged to Jung Hoseok, because it was the only voice that can turn an insult into a praise.

You turn back to him, your hands letting go of his shirt in the large, steel bowl. The stubborn stains on his shirt wouldn’t melt away no matter how hard you rubbed the fabric between your fingers, letting blood creep under your nails. Another shirt gone.

With a cigarette dangling from between his chapped lips, Hoseok skulked behind you, just until you can feel warm ash graze your collarbones. He buried his hands inside the bowl, inside the water where your hands gripped onto the white cotton fabric. He unlatched your fingers from the fabric and brought your wet fingertips to his lips, kissing them softly with the free corner of his lips. He breathed out a puff of smoke, warmth hitting your skin in a way that left you hungry for his affections, as filthy as they are displayed.

His naked chest was pressed onto your back and you wished he’d spilled blood on his sweatpants too so you can rip it off of him.

You return his insult with twice the venom. “Just be grateful I deal with your shit every day.”

He grinned, his hand smoothing down your back. You were getting ready to shower when he stumbled inside the flat, bloody and bruised. He’d simply taken off his shirt and placed it on the counter, snaking a gold necklace from his back pocket. He’d earned it tonight, like he promised.

With the necklace dangling around your neck, you scrubbed, taking off your shirt also so that you don’t spill stains onto the thrifted cloth and create even more work. He was annoying enough for the night.

“Aren’t you happy about the gift?” He asked, his chin on your shoulder, more ashes falling down the curve of your bra clad breasts. You began scrubbing again, but slower, wanting to focus on the feel of his five o’clock shadow on your skin.

“I’d be happier if you got me birth control instead,” you say, sighing. “Something useful.”

He frowned, but a shadow of a smile still graced his features. He knew you loved the necklace, enough to scream at the top of your lungs. You’d stare at it through the display case every time you walked to your part-time job and he’d promised, every day that he followed you from behind, that he would buy it (or steal it) for you no matter what it takes.

“Why would you want birth control?” He asked and snaked one arm around your waist.

You blushed slightly, subconscious of the fact that he was touching the soft rolls of your stomach. You tucked your legs underneath your body and sat with your heel digging into your buttock just to peel his hands off the place you were insecure with the most. The new position didn’t last long as he grasped your waist even tighter and brought you on his lap. You turned your head towards him, annoyance evident in the furrow of your eyebrows.

“Because we can’t afford children, you dumbass.”

He brushed his hair back with one hand in irritation while the other held your waist steady. There were always financial problems, no matter what job you did, and his spending habits didn’t help either. A pack of cigarettes every three days, the alcohol, the rent, the motorcycle, the groceries. Who knew where he got the money from to take care of the costs you couldn’t cover. He only needed to see you cry once before he was out doing what he did best – stealing.  

“But I really want to fill you up.”

Goosebumps rose on your skin and Hoseok’s grin spread, his hand trailing up and down your soft stomach. You can tell from that sober smile that he’s got delusions. “I want to push all my cum into you, baby.” He exhaled a puff of smoke on your skin. “A child will just be another bonus. Don’t you want another little me running around here?”

You scoffed although the blush on your cheeks darkened. “Are you serious? I can’t even handle one of you how am I supposed to babysit another?”

He shrugged – as if it wasn’t his problem – taking the cigarette out from his lips and dipping it inside the water. You could do nothing but watch as the water instantly turned gray. All attempts to clean his bloodied shirt gone to waste.

“You’re such a fucking asshole!” You scream, shrugging him off as you kicked the bowl away from you and slapped his arms. The bowl hit the side of the tub with a clang and dirty water splashed onto the floor.

Hoseok giggled and pulled you back down onto his lap, circling his hands around you but this time, trapping your arms also. You struggled at first, just for appearances, and settled down against his chest, eyes closed as you let out a huff of frustration.

“Seokie?”

“Hm?” He kissed the side of your neck.

“We can’t have children.”

He kissed you again. “Why not?”

You paused again and bit your bottom lips. “We can’t even take care of ourselves.” You turn to him. “How are we going to take care of another human being?”

He shrugged. “We’ll go with the flow.”

Typical Hoseok.

You lean into him but you didn’t say anything. He sensed your spirits dampening and he too, quieted, and turned his head away from you. He stared at the cracked walls, the dirty sink, blood everywhere on the floor. He stared at the shower and the rust on the shower head, at the shower caddy also caked with rust. Then he stared at his hands and the tattoos that trailed up his arm and the slits on your wrists that had barely begun to heal. He knew it was impossible, but he wanted to live the dream anyways.

“Is it wrong of me to hope?” He asked with disappointment, leaning his face onto your shoulder, eyelashes tickling you. “Is it so terrifying to think of us as parents?”

You placed a hand over his and leaned even further towards him, placing all your weight down onto his body. “Yes.” You say, and feel him jerk back like he’s been punched. “Because we’re bad people, Hoseok. We destroy everything we touch. What makes you think we can be parents? We’re too far gone.”

“The police haven’t caught us yet.”

“But they will-”

“I can get a job at the construction site. I can pretend to be someone else.”

You shook your head. “They’ll find you there the quickest.”

Hoseok stared past you, eyes focused on the blood under your nails. He was sick of committing petty crimes while you had to work your ass off cleaning motel rooms. “We’ll move to a different country, start a new life.”

You giggled but there wasn’t a hint of amusement in the sound. “We can’t run away from what we’ve done.”

“You mean what I’ve done.” Hoseok said, kissing your shoulder blades.

“No,” you smiled. “I killed him too. You may have buried him,” you crane your neck to place a kiss under his jawline. “But I was the cause.”

Hoseok closed his eyes and pulled you inside his embrace, closer than before, if that was even possible. “He brought it onto himself…It was his fault. He took advantage of you and you were…you were too young-”

You smiled. “I was in love with him.”

He squeezed your waist. “That wasn’t love.”

“Then what do you call us?”

“This,” he growled, “is love. That wasn’t. You were fucking fifteen!”

You stared at his grimace and you lean forward to peck his angry lips softly. “You’ve always been so good to me.” You smile but tears escaped the corner of your eyes and it trailed down your cheeks. You could almost taste the saltiness. “You deserve more than a whore.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grabbed your jaw, titling your face up at him, his fingers digging so hard into your face that he could feel the underside of your cheekbones on the tip of his fingers. “Don’t fucking call yourself that or I’ll fucking slap you.”

“Then do it.”

He raised his hand and you chuckled, flinching slightly, trailing your fingers up to grab his hand on your jaw. You could almost feel the snakes tattooed on his skin come to life, slithering up your face and hissing in your ear. Hoseok placed his hand onto your hair and petted you instead. He’d thrown things at the wall – clothes, pillows, food – when you’d argue with him. But he’d never lay his hand on you like that man did – the man who is now six feet under, throat slit from one end to another. Hoseok had done that for you. It was his proposal and you’d said yes.

“You’re so good to me, Hoseok.” You trace patterns over his grip on your face, his hand now loosening as your eyes began to fill with adoration. “That’s why you always piss me off so much.”

His hand dragged down your throat and he toyed with the gold necklace. The small pendant in the shape of a teardrop laid flat against your skin and he used to wonder why you’d like such an ugly thing when it was placed right next to a prettier necklace. Now he understood.

His breathing became heavier when his hand hovered over one of your breasts. The strangeness of his touch almost felt like the past, before all this happened, before the storm came.

He’d walked into the brothel in a cheap, black suit, snaking out crumbled bills from his pocket. You stared at the man, struggling not to blush as he grabbed your hand from a crowd of girls waiting with anticipation to please him. Jealous snickers rang in your ears as he pulled you into one of the rooms upstairs and sat you on the bed while he awkwardly stood in front of you, fumbling with his coat.

‘Let me,’ you reach up to undo the buttons but he shrugged your hands away grumbling that he doesn’t need any help.

You sat there, listening to the sound of fake pornographic moans and beds thumping on the walls, as the handsome young man with rugged yet delicate features peeled his clothes off. You watched him with a childlike wonder. When he dropped his coat on the floor you scramble onto your knees to pick it up but just when you grasped the thin cloth in your hand he placed his leather shoes onto the back of your hand to halt your movements. He crushed your hand underneath his heel, just firm enough to freeze you on the spot.

‘Don’t.’ He warned. He hated it when you acted like this – so submissive, so…not you.

‘It’s my job,’ you said, ‘to be on my knees for you.’

The innuendo wasn’t lost on him and he felt his cock twitch beneath his pants. He let go of your hand and you made your way back to the bed, crawling on all fours and arching your back a little more than usual to give him a view. When you looked back at him, you swore you almost saw drool on his chin.

‘I don’t know why you keep paying for blowjobs when you could fuck this instead. You’re one of the rare guys that actually make me wet, you know?’ You chuckle but his face was stern as you reach behind to tug your panties to the side. ‘See what you’re missing?’

Yes, he did see. Your flower was perfect, the outside of your folds dark like cocoa and gradually, as it reached your vagina, turned pink and wet. You looked delicious and he wanted to do nothing but stick his tongue inside you and let you cum all over his face, drown himself in your fragrance. Today was different, though. He won’t be missing it any longer.

‘I paid,’ he said and your eyes dart from the bulge in his pants to his dark, violent eyes. ‘I paid ten times the amount…to have you for the rest of the day.’

Your lips parted and you can feel excitement bubble within you, heat rising to your cheeks. Hoseok has always had a crush on you, for what reason you don’t know, and you would be lying if that didn’t make your heart burst. You weren’t the prettiest girl in the house, but you sure were the luckiest.

‘What did I ever do to deserve this kindness?’

He walked towards you and placed his palm on your ass. You shivered at the warmth seeping from his hand onto your skin and, when he tugged your underwear down your thighs, your hands clenched into the sheets.

‘Because you’re adorable.’

He trailed a finger down the curve of your spine and lean forward to spit onto your asshole, his thumb moving quickly to push his saliva in you. You clench around his thumb, shaking slightly as you weren’t experienced in the area and was frightened. Some girls said it hurt and some say it was even better than normal sex. Either way, it didn’t change the fact that you were trembling.

‘You’ve never done anal?’

He moved his thumb out and then shoved it in again harshly enough to make you hiss in pain and shame. You shook your head no and he scoffed, a corner of his lips rising. That was a surprise but then again, you were the least popular girl in the house and it has only been three months since you officially transitioned from the bar girl to a prostitute. You should have hung a diploma on the wall for your services. You would consider yourself lucky if some fat old fuck walked in with cash to shove his peanut-sized dick in your ass.

‘Yet you put on a good show. Fucking your ass? Fucking your pussy? You might as well just say you’re a virgin.’

You were the new girl, the rookie no one cared about. It was both a blessing and a curse. It meant that men weren’t paying for you hence you won’t be able to buy back your freedom as quick as other girls. It also meant that other girls in the house teased you for it, sometimes going as far to put condoms on cucumbers or other phallic shaped things and placing them under your pillow for laughs. It also meant that Hoseok’s past fuck buddies made your life a living hell and destroyed your belongings – makeup, clothes, wigs. All of it.

‘I’m a big girl,’ you lean back into his hand, driving his thumb deeper in you. ‘I can take it, daddy.’

Hoseok removed his thumb and wiped the traces of saliva on his pants. Then he knelt, placing one knee on the bed to lean forward, face just mere inches from your core.

‘Don’t call me daddy,’ he muttered, tilting his head to look at you. You craned your neck to see what he would do next. ‘I’m not desperate enough to be called that.’

You threw your head back and laughed, the sweet sound making his heart skip beats.

‘Daddy or not,’ you giggled, wiggling your ass at him. ‘you’re still paying for sex, handsome. Aren’t you still pathetic?’

Your words must have hit a nerve because just mere seconds after he’s plunging his fingers deep inside you, long, slender fingers curved to fuck you inside. Your jaw hung as a deep, hungry moan fell from your lips, your toes scrunching in delight. His other hand was buried in your hair as he slowly fucked you with his fingers. He wasn’t talking, letting the humiliation flow as you squelch lewdly around his fingers, making you cry out in humiliation.

‘If I’m pathetic for paying,’ he groaned, plunging a third finger in you although you were too tight for it. ‘then you’re pathetic for enjoying. Don’t we make a lovely couple?’

You rock against his hand, craving more friction.

‘Hoseok-ssi,’ you whined, ‘harder…please…’

He shook his head and took his fingers out of you then pushed your hips away from him so that your ass bounced off the bed. You stared up at him with your knees up, chest heaving, eyes hungry for him. He knew those eyes were only for him, and he relished in it.

‘You’re such an asshole.’

He shrugged, unbuckling his belt. The sound of metal hitting metal made you wet your lips. He was going to fuck your mouth first.

‘You like me this way.’

You sighed. ‘True.’

You reach up to palm him beneath his slacks while he undid the button and pulled down his zipper. He pulled his length out and you run your fingers down his dark pink length. You giggled when it twitched, smiling up at his face, taking your bottom lip underneath your teeth. Hoseok’s eyes looked empty as he ran his tongue over his canines but a small dimple next to his lips betrayed him. He was more than thrilled to be in this position.

You lean forward and placed small kitten licks on the tip of his cock, lapping up the pre-ejaculate that threatened to drip down the sheets. His length bobbed slightly with every lick, your tongue sometimes digging into the slit just to make it painful.

‘You taste disgusting.’ Your voice was muffled as you stuff the tip of his cock into your mouth and kept him warm. ‘So fucking gross,’ you moan, titling your head to one side as you suck him slowly, hollowing your cheeks to take more of him. ‘Repulsive old pervert.’

Your eyes were trained onto his face as you suck him, your bambi eyes wide as if you’re doing this for the first time. Hoseok’s jaw was clenched and you can hear him growl slightly, struggling to keep quiet. You couldn’t remember how many times you’ve swallowed his cock. He would come to you at least twice every week, sometimes more, just to feel your mouth. Sometimes he just kissed you. But most times, he fucked your throat.

You painted his cock red with your lipstick and he placed his hand on the back of your head and guided you deeper. You choked, eyes tearing as he pressed your face so close to him that your nose was pressed against the happy trail on his abdomen. You opened your mouth wider and stuck your tongue as far as it would go to lick the underside of his cock, your hands steady on his thighs, feeling his agile muscles tighten. He reached one hand down your throat to feel himself inside, pressing just two inches underneath your jugular vein as he moved away and then slipped back inside you. You gulped and the contractions of your throat made Hoseok nearly cum. He shoved you away from him with a lewd squelch. You lean back onto your elbows, one hand coming across your mouth to wipe off his precum around your mouth.

‘Who’s the real virgin, now?’

He pounced and grabbed the underside of your thighs, pinning them down as far as they would go. He lined the tip against your opening and looked up at you through his sweaty bangs and you’d sworn you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. He looked like a young god, face pained, eyes filled with the lust and anger of a criminal.

Slowly, he inched inside you and he watched you carefully as your eyes roll back, your back arching to him and a long, drawn-out moan escaped you. He felt delicious. He filled you completely and he felt big, he felt heavy. His strong hips rocked slowly and gradually he filled you up, knowing that he was going to shove his fingers inside you after he was done and then make you lick his salty cum off his fingers.

Then, he was going to give you a bath and clean you up from head to toe. And he’ll tell you he loved you, like always.

‘Why do you love me?’ You ask when you’ve both had your fill. Hoseok was laying on your lap, cigarette dangling from his lips, arms folded across his chest. His knees were bent, sliding his boxers up his thighs and you could see his flaccid cock peeking slightly from the gap. He was absolutely shameless.

‘Who knows.’

You frowned, pouting slightly as you trail your fingers up and down his pecs. Even prostitutes want romance at least once in their lives.

Hoseok opened his eyes and reached for your breasts, his fingers tracing the curve before snaking inside the bra the press your nipples in. You giggle and move back just until he folded his arms across his chest again.

‘No, seriously.’ You said, smiling. ‘Why though?’

‘Because you look cute.’

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. ‘That’s it?’

He grinned. ‘I just love you. Why isn’t that enough? Why do you need to know the reason?’

‘I don’t know what it feels like to be loved. I thought…maybe you need a strong reason for it to happen.’

His smile was gone, replaced by the mask of a stranger and you wondered if you said something wrong. When you opened your mouth, he spoke ahead of you, reaching up to twirl the ends of your hair around his fingers.

‘Because you look like you haven’t been loved before, that’s why.” He answered semi-truthfully. “How could someone live so long and not have been loved before?’

You shrugged. ‘I…I did love someone. But he’s the reason why I’m here.’          

Hoseok took the cigarette from his lips and crushed it against the bedsheet. He urged you to continue. You wished you hadn’t said anything, but your heart, your lips, your body – they betrayed you.

‘He said he’d take care of me. I mean…he did, you know?” You rambled. “I have to be thankful. Or else I’d end up in a foster home and it would have been worse. They’d take me away from this town.’

Hoseok sat up and crawled away from you and your sad eyes were afraid of what you were going to see when you look at him. He took the box of Marlboro next to the pillow and placed another one between his lips. He lit a match after and inhaled a deep puff of nicotine, boiling hot anger starting to run through his veins again. It seems, even in this room that he’d called heaven, he would never escape the devil’s poison. Anger, anger, anger. His vice, his life blood.

‘How old are you?’

You grab the towel beside you and wrapped it around yourself. ‘Eighteen.’

Silence filled the room.

‘Don’t fucking lie to me.’

‘I’m not!’ You retorted, shaking your head.

He raked his fingers through his hair.

‘I thought…I thought boss didn’t hire women under twenty.’ And it was true; that was the old man’s image and he’d told Hoseok those exact words when he expressed interest in the services offered. The old man was famous in this part of the town for keeping busty, bombshell women, not young girls like most places. His confused whisper felt like a sharp knife in your gut. You’ve ruined it, the one source of happiness in your life. Hoseok was going to leave and he won’t ever come back to see you.

Your guilty eyes fell onto the floor. ‘I’m not the youngest one here.’

Hoseok turned and dangled his legs from the bed. ‘You…didn’t you all have to train before taking these jobs?’

‘Mhm.’

Hoseok knew about the training. He worked with men who taught girls off the streets how to pleasure a man. Parents sold their children, usually girls, for a hit of speed or even a bottle if times got desperate.

‘How old were you when he trained you?’

Your terrified eyes met his again and you could tell what was going on inside his head. You were reluctant, your mouth closing and opening like a fish as your tongue suddenly felt like it was made of lead. But you tell him anyways, because you knew he was going to know somehow. Hoseok can read you like a book.

‘Fifteen.’

“Hoseok,” you cupped his face. “Are we going mad?”

He smiled, pulling down the straps of your brassiere from your shoulders. You’d thrifted the old thing and he’d jokingly called it ‘grandma’s underwear’ once and told you you’d killed his boner forever. He would never admit how beautiful your breasts looked. There was a pain inside his throat that never went away because he wanted to see, at least once, of a child suckling onto your nipples. He wanted to be called a father and he wanted to see your wrinkles appear one by one. He wanted to see who would grow the first white hair.

“Weren’t we always mad?”

You lean forward to kiss his lips. “That’s true.”

You placed you legs next to his thighs and straddled him, sitting onto his semi-hard length. You can feel him through his sweatpants and you run your fingers up and down his shoulders. He looked so beautiful, so youthful. His arms were covered with tattoos of snakes, dragons and tigers. You’d told him once that you liked bunnies the most and he laughed. He could devour you if he wanted to, but he cared for you instead – he’s the father you wanted to look up to, the brother you wanted to lean on, the friend that you wanted guidance from, the lover you never wanted to let go.  

It was through great turmoil that you realized he felt the same way for you, although you’ll never wrap your head around the reason why. It was like he’d never get enough of you, like he wanted to be inside you to the point that he’s wearing your skin. All because you were adorable, like he said ages ago.

“So,” you started. “Kids, huh?”

He studied your face to see that you weren’t mocking him. You were curious and even a little amused. It made him blush and Jung Hoseok rarely blushed.

“I like children.” He said, unclasping your bra. You slipped the straps down your arm and threw the skimpy material behind you. You encircled your arms around his neck and pressed your breasts onto his naked chest. You can feel him grow harder underneath you.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

He smiled. “I want all of them.” Then, he grinned. “Maybe ten or fifteen kids.”

You slapped his arms playfully and his boyish laugh rang in the bathroom. “You pervert you just want sex!”

“How else are we going to make kids!?”

You smiled also, but like all moments of happiness, sadness came along shortly after. You stopped moving and so did Hoseok, his hands landing on your thighs as he turned his head towards the source of the sound. Police sirens.

“Do we have to go?”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I’m afraid so. You have the bags packed right?”

You stared past him at the two matching backpacks next to the nightstand. It was routine. When you moved into a new place together, you placed all the essentials in two backpacks. Like school bells, police sirens reminded you that there is another place to be, another place to learn about life and all the pains and joys of it.

“Yeah. Did you fill up your bike?”

“She’s full and ready to go.” He grinned and rubbed your lower stomach, over your womb. You slapped his arm once again, softly this time. You got off of him with one hand covering your breasts and he pulled you up. You grabbed the plain t-shirt you placed on the counter and slipped it back on before grabbing the grandma bra from the wet floor. You were quite fond of the thing, glancing at it lovingly before stuffing it in the back of Hoseok’s sweatpants.

“Then let’s go.” You smiled. “Who knows? Maybe by the time we get to another place, I might actually want kids.”

Hoseok’s smile was the brightest you’ve ever seen, even when the police sirens were growing louder.

You were the happiest on his bike. It meant you could hold him for hours on end, stopping just to fill up the tank, and then you were back on the road.

The road is a solace for the both of you. The empty gray stretches of land reached towards both ends of the horizon; none of you know where it starts and where it ends. It was like drifting back and forth through time. On some roads he was older, on some roads he was younger. But you preferred him the most, at this age, when he is next to you.

[gloves94]

La Vie En Rose [Bruce Banner] 1

An uncontrollable, green beast trapped inside a humble doctor. The key to this control: the white eyes of a pompous, materialistic jewel thief. Oh- and also, the world is ending. Best of luck to you both and the rest of the Avengers.

My life was simple.

Then again, it was simple when it was my life.

 Simplicity at its best considered on the simple pleasures of life. Egyptian cotton sheets, goose feather pillows, mimosas every day, and the best part all the jewels and gems that I could dream of.

 Oh, all the gems and jewels I could imagine.

 I thought of my precious babies and how they gleamed and sparkled in all different shades and hues of colors, all of them, different shapes and sizes.

 I don't discriminate; I love them all.

 This is my life. This was my life.

 I loved it, and I wouldn't change a single thing about it. I live for the lavish things in life. I believe life was made to be enjoyed and I was blessed with the proper gifts to enjoy it, which is something I don't intend on wasting.

 Only a few days ago had I been completely spread out in my luxurious king bed. I looked at the yellow canary ring that shined brightly upon my index finger; thus far my favorite and most expensive finger accessory.

It was then that I heard the elevator door open. I thought it was my morning breakfast, eggs benedict and crab cakes with a Moet Mimosa. I sat up, the slightest of smiles on my face. It soon twisted into a frown when I was greeted by two strangers standing at the entrance of my master bedroom. One was a man who wore a simple, black suit, the other was a gorgeous woman who had short red hair and wore a skintight black and crimson suit- and it was just downhill from there.

 Presently, I sat in a discrete private plane to India, it wasn't as lavish as to what I was used to, but it was something. A  pair of pitch black sunglasses had been practically glued to my head. I had been threatened not to remove them despite any circumstance that might arise. I looked at my newest companion with a scowl through the shades.  

Natasha Romanoff, also known as the deadly Black Widow looked back at me just as uneasily.

 "Can I take the glasses off?" I asked in a bored town my voice drawling at the end.

"No," she retorted with absolutely no amusement in her tone.

"Couldn't you have at least made these Chanel?" I scoffed rolling my eyes. The Black Widow remained stoic, her answer obvious.

 Her mood: frustrated and annoyed.

 Feeling just as frustrated I snapped the sunglasses off angrily. In that instant, she pointed a cold gun at my temple. With a sly grin, I snapped my pale eyes towards hers. Hers, however, remained tightly shut.

 "I just," sighing I looked around the small space in the jet. My mind racing as I sought an escape. "I still don't understand why I have to be of service."

"I didn't know your silly organization was this inefficient," I added.

 The tension was escalating; anger was beginning to flood her mind. The edge of my lips tugged up into a smirk. "The organization is far from inefficient, not is it silly," she said sharply emphasizing on the word 'silly.'

"The problem is that he-it, it is too strong. No one can control it. Perhaps only you can."

"Will you look at me for chrissake? I'm not going to do anything to you. It's not like I can, considering that this hideous vest that I'm wearing will literally kill me. Not to mention how unflattering it is," I ripped open my Versace jacket to show the Black Widow the control belt bomb that had been locked around my torso. One wrong move and “Boom!” I would be split splat, just like a Pollock.

 Agent Coulson, the man who got me involved in this, had managed to get this bomb on me. If I misbehaved, it would only take one click of a red button for my life to cease.

"Chill B.W.," I said once again rolling my eyes and looking at her gun annoyed.

 The Black Widow ignored her new nickname and finally opened her eyes and dared to look into mine. Her tense mood did not falter.

 "See," I said smugly buttoning up my fancy jacket.

     I barely got some sleep in that uncomfortable seat. I spent half of the flight either drowsing off or brushing my dark brown hair while looking vainly in a pocket mirror.

 It seemed like the Black Widow didn't sleep. She was almost robotic.

The only reason I was sure she was human was because her emotions were painfully obvious to me. It wasn't long before the bump of the plane hitting fresh ground awoke me.

 It was dark outside; the sun was setting.

 The Black Widow wouldn't speak to me unless spoken to, and even then she refrained from saying much. During the flight she had several files at hand, one was mine, another was the thing we were dealing with.  

I wasn't allowed to look at either.

 "So where in India are we?" I asked carefully stepping around the dirt in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. "Kolkata, West Bengal," she retorted in her monotone voice.

 "Is that near the Taj Mahal?" I asked ignorantly.

 Her mood: annoyed.

 She was rather irked. "Can we go visit the old Indian mines. I've heard the rubies are just divine."

 She glared, "we are not on vacation."

 The black widow continued barking orders as we skulked around the ghettos of Kolkata. People were dying in the streets of sickness and disease. I could see them, clear as day, elder women, children, men, even sick dogs lay with gaping mouths in hunger. Their only company seemed to be the hovering flies.

Pests, trash, and the dead cluttered the crowded streets which stanch of feces, urine and decomposed corpses. There was so much pain in these streets, so much suffering. It was overbearing.

 "I need a moment," I said holding onto my aching head.

 B.W. Looked at me curiously.

  "Do what you have to do, it's just... my head," I held onto my temples with both of my hands. My mind went blank for a minute. I didn't realize how much time had passed until Natasha returned and found me leaning against a wooden post clenching my teeth. I could feel that she was somewhat concerned.

"Come. It's all arranged," she said putting her emotions aside. I once again followed her in the dusk to a tiny hovel with broken walls and curtain windows. It stood alone in the distance.

"Should I be ready?" I asked slipping my hands into my pockets. She didn't respond. I hated her silent charade. "This is so pointless-" I kicked a nearby peddle away.  

"Stop!" She suddenly snapped losing her cool.

 Her mood: anger and frustration.

 It seemed like I was only able to have two mood effects on the poor woman.

 "Listen. Whether you like it or not you will cooperate. You have a long track record so be grateful that we didn't just throw you in barred four by four cage," she snapped. "Be quiet and do as I say. This is a delicate situation." She couldn’t emphasize it more.

 Natasha then explained how she had hired a local child to bring our target to the isolated, broken down shelter where we were stood. She said that our cue was when the child escaped the room. I couldn't handle this place anymore. The mood, the insects, the horrid stench. I just wanted this to be over so that I could be back in Las Vegas, anywhere else other than Kolkata. I was also getting hungry...

 It was just then that a little Indian girl ran inside of the shed and sprinted out through an open window. A dark-haired man followed after her and was left standing alone like an idiot. He stopped dead in his tracks. He knew.

 His mood: annoyed.

 He had been made a fool, and he knew it. He had been tricked.

It seemed like there were no positive emotions surrounding these people.

 "Should have got paid up front, Banner," Natasha stepped forward from behind the curtains. She had bothered to dress down to the colloquial attire of the area. A black shirt and a crimson red shawl.  

Her trademark colors.  

I refused to change my outfit, not caring if I stood out like a sore thumb. Like hell, I was going to remove my Dior Tribal earrings and my Versace outfit in the middle of nowhere India. Why couldn’t we be in Bengal? New Dehli? This was so frustrating…

He turned around quietly and eyed both of us cautiously. Banner was for less of a better word your average Joe.

Dark hair, dark eyes, there wasn't anything particularly outstanding about him. He wore cheap clothes. A brand less maroon shirt and dark pants. He carried a messenger bag with him. He had thick, bushy eyebrows and rounded facial features. His skin was tan from countless of days or walking under the harsh Indian sun.

"You know, for a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle," Natasha continued.

 Wait-

Was this our dangerous subject?

 Once again I scrutinized him. My eyes were snaking up and down his figure and poise. How was this man threatening? He certainly didn’t fit the part. Did he have to avoid the stress due to heart problems?

 "Avoiding stress isn't the secret," he retorted dully. I felt like I was missing something.  

"Then, what is it? Yoga?"

 I was clearly out of the loop of this conversation. Not that I cared enough to inquire, I merely wanted to get out of here. I didn't even bother in making an effort to hide my scowl.

 "You brought me to the edge of the city, smart. I uh... assume the whole place is surrounded?" He looked around the room anxiously and at both of us. I'll admit that I droned out for most of Banner and Natasha's conversation until I realized they actually addressed me.

 "And you?" he asked.

 I snapped my colored eyes to his. He blinked twice taken aback by them.

 His mood: curious.

 "Does it matter?" I retorted smugly keeping my eyes peeled wide open.

If it weren't for this man- ugh...

"Are you both here to kill me? Because that's not going to work out for everyone."

"For who else?" I muttered to Natasha growing more and more annoyed by the second. An effect I realized I had on her.  

"Can we get out of here?" I added whining like a child.

"No. No. Of course not. I'm here on behalf of SHIELD."

"I'm not." I butted in shamelessly. Natasha ignored me.

"Can we get out of here? We can talk about this on the plane, yes?" I repeated almost pleading her.  

"Where are you taking me?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

"We've always kept our distance from you doctor, but never lost sight. We've even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent."  

"Why?" I beat the man to the question asking with knitted eyebrows.

"Will someone tell me what I’m doing here? That is, besides wasting my time!" I exclaimed frustrated. "This man isn't dangerous!" I said approaching him carelessly. "He's a doctor," I drawled annoyed. "He saves lives," I added matter of factly.

Natasha began to become exasperated once again. Her glare said it all. 'Don't you dare,' her eyes threatened.

 Banner couldn't help but chuckle.

 "I think... the other guy might disagree with you," he said dangerously his mood becoming darker. I huffed cockily.

"Whatever, I'm not scared of anybody," I said tossing my long hair over my shoulder. It slapped the doctor in the face as I walked away. He brushed his nose and frowned at the rude gesture. Natasha proceeded to explain how  the world was about to face a potential global catastrophe. She spoke about something called a Tesseract and potential power it possessed to wipe out the planet.  

This caught my interest...

 That thing, whatever it was, had to be absolutely priceless. The Tesseract, I wondered just what it was… It was then that Natasha pulled a tablet from her messenger bag and displayed it for the doctor.

My eyes slightly widened at the sight of the glowing cube like- gem.

Was that a shaped blue diamond? I could feel my mouth greedily watering at the pure thought of-

 I momentarily escaped reality and pictured myself in an even fancier penthouse, wearing, perhaps a necklace made out of the Hope Diamond? No one to bother me, no one to tie me up to explosives and boss me around... I didn't realize that my emotions were beginning to manifest until Natasha snapped the image from her tablet off and her attention was back from the doctor and me.

 "Quit it," she almost growled out at me.

"D-Did your eyes just change color?" Banner asked looking at the vanishing green hues in them.

"No," I lied rudely, scoffing, and stepped away from both of them.

"Her eyes just changed color," he stated the obvious, shocked. His eyes remained on mine. I didn't remove my now colorless eyes away from him. I could tell he was intrigued by my unnatural gaze.

 "Nick Fury trusts you." Natasha swayed the conversation.

"He wants you to find it. It has been taken. It emits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. There's no one that knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that's where I'd be.” She explained.

"Gamma Radiation? But isn't this man a medical doctor?" I asked. Once again, I was ignored.

"So Fury isn't after the monster? He doesn't need me in a cage?" Banner inquired, his mood shifting, eyes hard.

 "No one's gonna put you in a..." Natasha persuaded.

"STOP LYING TO ME!" he suddenly snapped in a thunderous tone. Natasha quickly grabbed her gun and pointed at him. She exchanged a confused look with me since I had no reaction at the man's outburst.  

"He's not mad," I retorted feeling that the man was actually feeling sheepish.

 He stood straight up like an arrow smiling. He had an odd sense of humor.

  "I'm sorry. That was mean. I just wanted to see what you'd do. Why don't we don't we do this the easy way, where you don't use that, and the other guy doesn't make a mess? Okay?"

"The other guy? You talk as if you were Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," I commented.

"Something like that..." He said with that same smile. His eyes marked by exhaustion.

"You won't be locked up," Natasha continued. "And I won't need to use my weapon. That's why she's here," she nodded her head towards me. I crossed my arms over my chest tapping my foot anxiously.

"Can we go? Now?" I asked insensitively sincerely not caring that the world was in peril.

"And what are you going to do?" He asked with a charming smile towering over me.

"Hold the Big Guy down? Rattle your jewelry to distract him with glimmer and glam?" He clearly wasn't threatened by me.

 I glared at him and smugly smiled at him. For a brief moment, I allowed my white irises to flash in a bright orange hue of annoyance. He felt this emotion rapidly shift and gave a step back started by his sudden change in mood. His jaw tightened, and instead of fear, I could sense the growing curiosity in him.

FIRST: [Here] NEXT: Chapter 2

[ptw30]

Amazing art by xblackpaladin

Fic: Scar Tissue - Part One/Part Two/Part Three/Epilogue

A part of the Blade!Shiro series

Summary: Shiro can’t escape his past, but his pack won’t let him drown in it. 

Warning: Mature. Non-consensual markings discussed.

A/N:  Though not necessary, the end scene might make a bit more sense if you read "Out of the Blue" first, which introduces Lance in this series.

“Take off the mask.”

Shiro glanced over his shoulder at Antok, who approached in a measured stride. “Excuse me?”

“We told you. The mark does not matter to us.”

But it did – to Shiro. Even if his pack ignored its presence, Shiro could not, shame and embarrassment writhing under his skin. It had been almost three weeks since he’d been accepted into the Blades’ familial unit officially, and yet he couldn’t help how his eyes wandered to the scar upon the bridge of his nose every time he looked in the mirror.

Back when he’d thought little of it, he brushed off the awkward glances and hostile expressions as nothing more than Galra vanity. But now he understood – they loathed the mark upon his face, whether out of spite for being claimed as a mate or because they knew to whom he belonged.

The latter was something he couldn’t face.

But since only Kolivan and Antok occupied the Hilt at this late hour, he hit off his mask and pushed back his hood. “The others – I didn’t – I didn’t realize why they stared at my mark before.”

“The Blade of Marmora relies upon secrecy and trust,” Kolivan explained, coming to stand before Shiro’s console. “Since your mate is not of the Blade, some have wondered to whom you belong as an undocumented citizen.” He left out “lower lifeform,” for which Shiro was grateful. “It is nothing you need concern yourself with.”

“But – But Kolivan, they don’t – I never realized they don’t trust me.”

“If they did not trust you, I would not have kept you in the Blade,” Kolivan explained with ruthless logic. “I would have sent you back to Drule Central the moment it became an issue on missions.”

“Thanks…I think…”

“You are interpreting their reactions differently now that you are aware of the meaning of your scar, but they have always watched you with such interest.”

Shiro sighed and leaned his chin upon his propped-up hand. “So they were always sending me dirty looks?”

“They have made their jealousy known, yes,” Antok supplied, which made Shiro even more uncomfortable.

“Jealousy? Why would they be – ”

“Speak to Ulaz about it when he returns to the base,” Kolivan interjected, suddenly finding the report upon his datapad fascinating. “As a researcher of all types of lifeforms, he would be the one best suited to explain the carnal behaviors of maturing Galra.”

“Carnal behaviors of – ” Shiro’s eyes widened; heat burned his cheeks a pale pink twinge. “Wait. Are you – are you saying that they…want me…?”

Kolivan let out a disparaging sigh and rolled his eyes, shoulders heaving with the terrible burden. “You are an…intriguing species, Shiro. Your facial features are not undesirable, and your unique size is quite alluring for a larger mate with certain…tastes.”

Kolivan’s own features darkened as he shifted uncomfortably, and Shiro was tempted to activate his mask.

“They assume since your mate is not part of the Blade, you are able to be claimed once more, especially since you are not Galra. They do not believe humans mate for life.”  

Which was…true, in some instances. Ancients. This was disturbing on so many levels.

Antok’s massive hand clamped down upon Shiro’s shoulder and half his back. “You need not worry, little one. As a member of your pack, I have alluded to having first rights should you desire to mate once more.”

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please stop. Just – stop.”

Kolivan crouched before Shiro’s console. “Takashi – ” When Shiro moved to reactivate his mask, Kolivan swiped away the screens and seized Shiro’s gloved hands, cradling them in his massive claws. “Do not pay them any mind. Only you control your destiny, and whatever you decide – whenever you decide it – your pack will support you.”

Shiro wasn’t sure what to feel or how he felt – about Sendak, the mark, the Galra seeking him, or his own desires for a mate – but there was one thing he knew for certain. He leaned forward to rub his jaw along Kolivan’s in the reassuring motion of a traditional pack greeting. He was human, but he was also pack. And he reveled in that simple fact.

Still, no matter how many times he did it and no matter how many times Kolivan and Antok returned the gesture, his entrails entangled and wrung, and his raw nerves stung. He couldn’t shake the horrible shame and humiliation he felt by having his past exposed and his body sought as some sort of challenge or prize.

“Is it reinforcement you require?” Kolivan asked. “Would you like me to decree to the Blade that you are not seeking a mate?”

“No!” Ancients, that would so much worse than this quiet desolation. “I – I just – it’s there, the mating mark. And I never – it still…hurt, in a way, when I thought it was just a scar, but now – ”

“You know the meaning behind it, and you cannot forget that.”

A solemn nod.

Kolivan shared a look over Shiro’s head before grounding Shiro with a firm grasp upon his shoulders. Kolivan’s golden eyes glimmered, unnerving Shiro with their severity. “Nothing will be done today. I would not allow you to make such a significant decision emotionally compromised, but I know of an archaic gesture that was used during Galran adoption and courting rituals. It may bring you some comfort.”

“Are you going to scent-mark me again?” Shiro wondered.

“No. Packs include different races and species,” Kolivan explained. “This is strictly a Galran ritual.”

Shiro cast a questioning look to Antok, who simply redirected his eyes to Kolivan. So Shiro replied truthfully, “I don’t understand.”

“You’ve seen the different races that identify themselves as ‘Galra.’ It is because before the empire, we were an accepting race. Anyone who was strong enough to survive, we welcomed.”

Shiro opened his mouth, but no words came out. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure he understood Kolivan’s words correctly, but if he did – Shiro wasn’t sure how to answer.  

Kolivan took pity upon him. “Do not answer now. Do not answer today. Think about it. Give yourself time to adjust – to accept the truth about your scar and this suggestion. When you are ready, we will discuss it.”

Five Annuals Later 

The absolute rapture in Allura’s eyes the moment she realized her baby brother caught her a step out of the cryopod vanished the moment she saw Keith at Shiro’s side. Lance, Ancients bless his soul, tried his best to deescalate the situation –

“Allura, Allura! You don’t understand. Keith isn’t like the Galra we fought. He’s against the empire.”

– but Allura refused to listen. “Lance, how you can believe that? You of all people should know you can never trust a Galra.”

Shiro stepped in front of Keith the moment Allura’s face twisted with an incensed scowl, ignoring his little brother’s grunt of protest. Keith could protect himself, especially if he’d survived the Trials of Marmora, but big brother instinct died hard and sometimes not at all.

“Perhaps you have forgotten about our father, our planet, our people,” the princess growled, eyes inflamed, lips curled in a vicious snarl, “but I have not. All Galra are vile creatures.”

Even though he didn’t turn, Shiro could imagine Keith’s response, his brother’s ears drooping, an off-putting expression upon his face that those closest to him would read as crestfallen.

Shiro instantly combated, “Not all Galra are evil. My little brother is not evil.”

“Takashi,” Keith murmured, tail snaking about his brother’s waist to reassure and hold.

But Shiro wouldn’t relent. He wouldn’t allow this princess, Altean or not, to speak ill of his brother or the Blades.  

“The Galra have done terrible things,” Allura bit back unkindly, ignoring Coran’s hand upon her shoulder and Lance’s attempts to dissuade her. “You must know, human. The marking upon your face proves you have endured cruelty at the hands of the Galra.”

Since she believed he was not one of them.

“Takashi?” Keith called again, his tail tightening.

Shiro sucked in a sharp inhale, steeling his nerves. Perhaps even after ten thousand years, the Galran culture hadn’t changed all that much, so Allura knew what Sendak had done, even if she didn’t know the commander himself.

“If you know what the scar across my face means…” He uncurled Keith’s tail from his waist, ignoring his little brother’s whine of protest. When he unzipped his vest and began to peel away the top portion of his jumpsuit, he’d expected the shocked gasps and unshed tears from Pidge – she was the youngest and Shiro had saved her brother – but he didn’t expect the flat-out bawling from Hunk.

He refused to look at Keith, knowing his little brother’s eyes would widen and his mouth would drop. His expression most likely mirrored Lance’s, the Altean prince still in his human form as his hands lifted to cover his mouth, shock mingling with sorrow and dismay in his eyes.

In perhaps the longest moment of his life, Shiro feared what his brother would think. Would Keith think less of him for failing so many times? Would he shun his brother for his horrible disfigured skin, but he needn’t worried. The moment passed, and Keith’s tail wrapped about Shiro’s thigh, allowing him to reveal even more of his scarred chest and shoulders for Allura to see.

Shiro wished he could spare them all the truth, but the Galra Empire was all Princess Allura proclaimed – vicious, savage, iniquitous. From the games, he earned all sorts of scars – from punctures to gashes, from burns to gouges. But perhaps what was most eye-catching of all his wounds was vibrant violet ink that swirled upon his arm in a deliberate pattern. It ran along the bone of his shoulder blade, stretched across his deltoid, and reached down his bicep to where the Galra arm took over.

A glistening taint of pure quintessence.

Allura’s eyes grew with wonder, with astonishment, but she sobered as he spoke.

“…then you must know what this is.”

If she truly knew Galra traditions, then the Altean princess knew the significance of his taint.

“You – You’ve been adopted by the Galra,” Allura gasped, utterly mystified. “You allowed them to claim you as one of their own?”

“This is the Galra I know. The ones who took Keith and me in. The ones who trained us to fight against Zarkon.” In a softer tone, Shiro admitted, “The ones who refused to allow the empire to own me. I survived the gladiator games because of the Blade’s training, and I’m free today because of the courage they lent me when I had none.”

“Blade?” she accused, though the heat fizzled in her words. “The Blade of Marmora still exists? How is that possible?”

“I do not know, but this is the Galra I know. This is the Galra that saved me, so I can’t let you label my pack and me as evil.”

Allura broke away when Lance then, approaching Shiro in a slow and hesitant stride. She kept her staunch posture, eyes firm and unrelenting as they glared directly into his soul. She sought weakness, but she would find none. She sought dishonesty, but that, too, he could not give her. With a tail wrapped about his leg and the taint decorating his skin, he met the Princess of Altea’s gaze unflinchingly, even when her eyes directed to the scar across his nose.

In her eyes, he found no malice, only curiosity and – hope. Her lithe fingers traced his scar, sending shivers up his spine.  

“Do you love him or her?”

His mate. Sendak.

Shiro blinked, taken back, but he answered honestly, “I-I don’t know.”

But he wanted to find out.

Allura nodded, accepting his answer as truth, then sought the shimmering ink upon his shoulder, upper chest, and back. Her warm fingertips followed the grooves of his muscles and the lines of quintessence, and for a brief moment, the insignia glowed a light sky blue – and then Shiro stood before the projection screen in the Hilt, Kolivan standing across from him. They were in the middle of discussing an exit strategy for a scouting party in the Menozix System, routine for a fourth quintent of the Spicolian movement, when Shiro spouted, “I want to undergo the ritual.”

Kolivan stopped in mid-swipe of the screen, amber eyes seeking Shiro’s through the transparent purple screens. “Are you sure? Sendak cannot touch you – ”

“This isn’t about Sendak,” Shiro explained, arms crossed, though his eyes averted. “I – I still don’t know how I feel about him, but this – this is about me. I – I may be human, but Earth is no longer my home. The Blade of Marmora is, and – I define myself through my connection to it and my pack. I want to embrace that. I want to become Galra.” As if an afterthought, Shiro added, staring straight into Kolivan’s unwavering gaze, “Will – Will you let me?”  

He’d felt like a child asking permission, and when Kolivan deactivated the screens between him, Shiro readied himself for a lecture about species and strength and how Shiro, through the years with the Blade, had proven Kolivan’s originally assessment correct. He could never meet the criteria to become a Galra.  

But Kolivan spread his arms, welcoming Shiro into the circle of them. As Shiro pressed his face into Kolivan’s muscular shoulder, Kolivan swiped his jaw along Shiro’s head, marking him once him. The motion never ceased to soothe Shiro’s turbulent emotions.  

“If that is truly what you desire, then the Galra Empire will rejoice,” Kolivan murmured. “For today, it will claim that which it never deserved.”

As his taint settled into its usual violet glow and Shiro’s mind returned to the castle, he saw fresh tears sparkling in Allura’s now serene eyes.  

“This is the Galra I know as well. I would like to see it again.”

He bowed to her before falling to knees like Kolivan showed him years ago, tucking his fist to his chest and paying proper homage to the Princess of Altea.

“Then I will show you.”

He waited on the floor for ten full seconds before taking hold of Keith’s tail and tugging him down, too. Though Keith growled, he eventually ducked his head as well, spurring tingling laughter from Allura, from Lance and Pidge and Hunk, and Coran, too.

His pride.

End Scar Tissue

More from the Blade!Shiro series

[tuwam]

re:learning.

‘do you understand them?’ they’d just entered.

yoojun’s nose wrinkles. at a lot of things. the sound of the chime that rings a little louder than he expect, makes his head pop up in alarm. at the chorus of greetings that hits him when he enters. the sounds, no different from all he picks up when walks down the street. except the old man’s taught him how to tune out in the street, not how to tune out like this. then there’s the smell, not bad, a tad familiar, and overwhelming. quite unlike the forest, welcoming even in it’s reality. this was different. he didn’t like it.

but mostly he doesn’t like the question.

“don’t speak dog, ahjusshi.” at least not yet. maybe he could pick it up easier than humans and their languages. but he couldn’t speak it too well. or rather, they wouldn’t understand him, his tones, his words. not these dogs.

he’s a little offended by the question, an emotion the old man’s been teaching him. about the way his skin bristles a little and his lips turn down. he’s learned how to recognize it on his body and has learned that his body gives it away before anything else.

it’s also taking his body a minute to get used to everything. the dogs barking, the slight hiss of cats, snakes, the scratch of cages. the wails, the welcoming. he isn’t aware he’s closed his eyes until he smell a human and remembers his manners.

‘how can I help you?’ ‘looking for a companion for my grandson here.’

yoojun quite likes that word, or any variation of it. grandson, sonny, nephew, any word the old man has used before for him, always brings him the kind of warmth he gets to hold in him and build on. it’s not fleeting, it’s growing and he’s always giddy when he hears it.

‘anything in particular?’ he’s being addressed now. he’s got his cues right now, his cues and his sentences. still, he’s a bit overwhelmed and nearly whimpers at the pinch to his elbow. “pup.” it comes out first, the whines once again. then the old man sends him a fond smile, much like the employee and tuts him off to follows. pinch or no pinch, the giddiness remains, even if the sound of the dogs get louder. 

slowly, a little more distinguishable.

they’re so small!!!!!! a while ago, yoojun learned that his eyes don’t tell as much as they used to. that the days when he didn’t growl or nudge or whine and his eyes would speak his heart. he can’t do that, not with humans. sometimes he thinks he can, then they ignore the cues. when he spends half an hour staring at the doughnut in the window and the clerk asks him if he needs help with anything. when he spends forty-five minutes glaring at a motorcyle and the old man asks him what’s going on.

his eyes are useless. they convey so much and suddenly he’s become dumb to the world, left only with the choppiness of his speech. speech that has improved greatly over years of tutoring and earnest. still, yoojun wants to look up at the employee and convey it all. the excitement, how his tail wags at the discoveries, the small, large, variety of dogs that he’s met with. he likes it when dogs take easily to him, likes it when they lean to his touch instead of cowering.

‘you smell of what they don’t know.’ the old man told him one day. yoojun scrubbed himself so hard he squeaked when his skin peeled. they’re the closest things he has and so far they’ve run from him, cowered, lashed out. 

there’s a ton, all jumping and trying to reach his hand, his arms. all speaking over and through one another. yoojun beams, his chest full of familiarity and aching to listen to all. he runs his hands through a particularly small one, with a face quite like the old man himself.

‘hee, he’s a schanuzer. very well-behaved.’ yoojun’s still beaming, trying to listen, but too enraptured with the fur. makes him miss his, makes him feel at home too. he keeps his hands occupied, running through the fur and remembering his manners.

you smell old, is what the schnauzer’s eyes say and yoojun’s over the moon, wants to tell stories, wants to ask all he knows. and then another’s in his arms, licking his face and his hands. you smell friendly, is what this one says. floppy ears and big eyes, fur softer and silkier than anything he’s ever felt.

‘kaya, a king charles spaniel.’ and oh yoojun’s hugging her tight. allowing all the kisses and the yipping and every toss and turn in his lap until he’s on his back. she’s energetic, and firing what he can only assume are questions each time he removes her from his face. ‘she reminds me of you yoojun, you know after you got over your shyness.’ and it seems the other dogs are well past that, the longer he listens the longer he makes out some questions, some yells. confusion, excitement replaces fear and he wants to talk to them all.

then he smells it. faint, muted out by the optimism. but in filtering out everything else, he zeroes in on this. a little pain. a lot of fear. loneliness. he zeroes in on himself. 

this guy is bigger than the others, much bigger and yoojun wonders how he didn’t see him. bigger and huddled close in the corner of one of the pens. tawny fur, ( the old man once described his as such ) short, terribly short, big snout, big eyes and a bigger need to make himself as small as possible. yoojun flinches when the pup turns to hide it’s gaze from him.

‘that’s Bi, he’s - a bit of a challenge. he’s not up for sale.’

the pups don’t understand humans well. yoojun doesn’t either. but they share this instinct, when they know a certain time is coming, and he can smell the fear of it in the pup. death. they don’t get all the words but they know something isn’t right. the other pups avoid Bi, and Bi seems to avoid himself. 

“he’s scared.” yoojun sees it, sees himself huddled in bushes, wrapped all that he can and all that makes him terrifying to other, into himself. sees the days float by like promises of an escape from who he is. he knows, he remembers. so he reaches without thinking. it’s slow, the other dogs taking to playing with their toys as he approaches. he can’t speak, can’t use what he’s learned with humans because that language doesn’t suit him, doesn’t suit this. he can’t use what he knows either, little yips and contortions of his mouth that would have the employee calling - well calling someone. so he just approaches, gently, shuffling as well as he knows.

Bi’s body is bigger than the others but the way he inches towards yoojun’s hand suggests not lack of control but lack of trust. in himself or both. yoojun doesn’t know but keeps going.

‘sir pl-’ “he’s scared. he’s shaking.” he is, partially from the collar digging into his skin. yoojun slips a finger in, eyes never leaving the pup until he tenses around the metal. it’s a device humans seem to like a lot. he’s seen metal something rip through an animal before he hates it. “he’s in pain!” it comes out a lot harsher than intended, comes out in a half snarl and he doesn’t see his canines but the old man can tell. he’s by yoojun’s side in a second. ‘yoo.’ “he’s hurting ahjusshi.” ‘yoo, calm down.’ and he wants to. he really wants to. the shop’s grown surprisingly quiet. nothing’s really quieted down, the dogs are still playing, birds chirping, life going on. but he’s blacked it out in favor of the soul blackening before him. “he’s hurting. they’re hurting him.”

‘he was biting people - himself - it was scaring the other dogs, the customers.’ the excuses. humans are fond of that too. yoojun’s noticed that much. “he’s a pup!” it’s softer this time, a little more into it but softer in tone. yoojun’s tryin. his fingers curl around the metal. Bi hasn’t left his spot, stays with his head lowered, barely grazing yoojun’s palm. ‘he’s dangerous!’

yoojun remembers. well he remembers a lot. he remembers danger, as a distant but fateful memory. as a lesson that he can’t really see, but his body knows. he smells ash with it, ash and metal and blood. he smells it on Bi, wait but there. here’s the word as an echo to an unforgiving fate.

and he hates it.

“he’s a pup.” it’s whispered. as the memory comes and goes.  ‘yoojun.’ the old man’s word is final when it’s like this. yoojun knows, but his hand doesn’t move. no one really moves for a while. ‘come let’s go.’

and they do. they leave without much word. without a fuss. because yoojun is if anything trying to prove his humanity despite the inhumane things around him.

when he walks home the next afternoon, the old man’s by his side, holding up a piece of paper.

‘plans?’

step one: go into the store step two: pick up Bi step three: run out

yoojun is sheepish. a term he doesn’t like but he thinks it’s the best humans can come up with. he’s almost apologetic until a figure emerges from behind his mentor’s legs.

bi is looking at him with something new. he can read it all clearly and he’s stooping down the minute the pup bounds into his arms.

‘breaking in and stealing a dog is illegal yoo.’ “I knoooooow.” he does. but he’s nuzzling bi, nuzzling and cuddling him and making promises in little yips that only those two understand. “i’m gonna find you somewhere that treats you right, don’t you worry.” bi settles in his arm and yoojun settles his heart for the first time since yesterday.

‘don’t go taking the other two either.’ “I promise.”