#why do I have to have a brain that hits a barrier and just.. rolls over in defeat

[monster-noises]

I am experiencing... frustration.

[malum-forev]

jealousy, turning saints into the sea

*

Summary: After Bucky made you jealous with a new recruit, you decide he should get a taste of his own medicine.

Pairing: Bucky x Agent!reader

Part 1: jealousy, jealousy

“Your dark, angry, grr, Winter Soldier persona isn’t hitting as hard anymore.” Sam smiled as he sat down at the bar next to Bucky.

“Everything that’s happening is your fault.” Bucky hissed, not taking his eyes off of you. You were only a few feet away but the way you were actively ignoring him made Bucky feel thousands of miles away.

“Hey, you were the one who agreed.” Sam held his hands up defensively.

It started as a joke and Bucky never intended for it to become a big deal, or maybe subconsciously he did want it to become a problem. That’s the only explanation as to why he accepted his friend’s bet. 

It all started when Sam suggested Bucky’s love language is possessiveness.

“I am not.” Bucky grumbled, forcing his eyes to concentrate on the man in front of him instead of you. You were finishing up a team meeting with some ex-SHIELD agents. But proving his point about not being overprotective was becoming more and more difficult. His enhanced hearing was playing a twisted game, making Bucky clench his fists as he heard the agents talk about how you looked in your tactical suit. 

“So I assume you waiting for your girlfriend outside the conference room has nothing to do with the fact you want to metaphorically pee on her.” Sam’s smile only made Bucky’s scowl deepen. 

Sam’s words combined with the agents depraved (but accurate) description of your looks were making Bucky’s tolerance level drop down to a zero. His heartbeat rose and he felt a cold sweat start to form. Is this what a panic attack feels like? He asked himself. 

“The things I’d do to her, starting by bending her over the desk and-“ One of the agents said. That was it, he’d had enough. 

Bucky slammed his open palm on the glass barrier separating him from you. The agents jumped in their seats as they saw the Winter Soldier all but break the wall. 

“I’ll be done in a few minutes.” Your sweet voice calmed his racing heart, Bucky nodded with a tight-lipped smile. 

Sam clutched his stomach as his booming laughter took over the hallway. “You couldn’t even wait for her to get out of the room! You are totally marking your territory.”

“I’m not a dog!” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Then what’s the problem? What’s making your cyborg brain crash?” Sam wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Bucky ran his palm against his face and considered the pros and cons of telling Sam the truth. Pro: he would get it off his chest and it would probably make him feel better. Con: Sam would know.

“The problem is,” Bucky sighed, looking back at you. “She never gets jealous. It’s physically impossible for her to care, and it’s been driving me insane! I consider myself a good-looking guy, some women have even called me handsome! And she just carries on like it doesn’t matter. I feel like she doesn’t want me.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re telling me you want her to be jealous?”

“Maybe I do, sometimes.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just, I think about her morning, evening, and night so whenever I see someone who wants to swoop in and woo her- it makes me violent. But whenever some woman hits on me, she thinks it’s cute.”

“First of all, you need to get that checked. Go to therapy about it or something.” Sam’s reply made Bucky regret ever telling him. “And second of all, of course she gets jealous. She probably just doesn’t tell you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes again. “I’m telling you, it’s impossible to make her jealous.”

“Wanna bet?” Sam’s Cheshire smile should have been a big enough red flag. 

So that’s where Bucky found himself, paying the debt for his stupid bet with Sam. He’d succeeded, Bucky made you jealous but at what cost. You’d invited the team out for drinks after a mission and dragged Bucky along just to see him wither. 

You threw your head back with laughter and patted the agent’s chest with your hand.

“No one is that funny.” Bucky grumbled. 

“Is this foreplay for you guys?” Sam wrinkled his face. 

“Of course not,” Bucky drowned the whiskey in his cup. “she’s making me pay for the stupid thing with the recruit.”

“Glad to know my plan worked.” Sam nudged the brunet. “See, this is why you should start listening to me when we’re out on the field.”

“Yeah well your genius plan is biting me in the ass.” 

The way the agent hungrily looked at you made Bucky’s jaw twitch. You were doing this on purpose, and he knew the only thing he could do was sit back and receive his punishment.  

His eyes still sternly glued on you, your every move. Bucky watched as you brought your hand behind your neck and tossed your hair to one side; exposing the side of your neck, a place he knew you loved being kissed. Next, you brought your hand to twirl around the necklace, the long metal catching the agent’s eyes. The eyes that were now traveling to your cleavage. His hungry eyes darted around, trying to catch a glimpse at whatever he could. 

Bucky knew that look, the look of someone trying to memorize everything their seeing so they can replicate it a few hours later when they’re alone in the shower.

But what sent him over the edge was the way the agent pulled you closer. He snaked his arm behind you, pulling your waist into him. Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, he saw red and was looking for blood. 

Bucky slipped off his leather jacket but not before taking the silencer from the breast pocket. 

“I don’t condone violence.” Sam warned. 

“You fight, knock down and kill people with metal wings.” Bucky said with a harsh tone as he screwed the silencer onto the gun hidden in his back.

Sam placed one of his hands on Bucky’s chest and extended the other one. “Give it to me.”

“You ruin everything.” Bucky groaned, placing the gun in Sam’s hand. 

“That’s more like it.” He smiled. 

“You never said anything about not being able to use my God-given skills.” Bucky said as he pushed up the sleeves on his Henley.   

“God didn’t give you that vibranium arm!” Sam yelled as Bucky pushed past everyone in the small bar.

Within a couple of seconds, Bucky had walked all the way over to the other side of the bar, pushed the agent up the wall and took his shirt in his left arm, the mechanical whir of the vibranium showed the agent just how strong he was. Bucky may no longer have the red star on his shoulder but it was tattooed in his soul, and he wasn’t above showing someone what that meant. 

“You will never again speak to her, touch her, or look at her.” Bucky’s deep voice made the young agent’s eyes widen. “Is that clear?”

The man in his grip nodded furiously. Bucky brought him up a few feet from the floor only to drop him down. Slamming the agent’s body against the wood floors. 

Bucky walked past the lump of bones on the floor. “SHEILD is making its agents weak.”

“You ready to go home, big guy?” You couldn’t contain your smile. 

Bucky left some crumpled bills on the table and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “I’ve been dying for you to say that.” 

————-

Author's Note: hi hiiii! I'm so glad you guys liked pt. 1! Sooo here's Bucky's version! Hope you guys like it! As always pls like, reblog and comment if you do! <3

And don’t forget to ask a prompt for my 1k bingo game! 💖

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

[hirsheyskisses]

It Takes Two. (Prologue)

A Shocking Meet

RORONOA ZORO X READER

Prev. | Next.

Pirates.

They rule the seas, they claim the lands. The elders speak of ruthless men who take what does not belong, of women so cunning and sly they'd take all of your worth right from under your nose.

The mothers spoke of the Captains, who'd hang children and throw them to the seas, who'd slaughter your siblings and take it all away.

The children played games of Marine and Pirate, further settling the idea of what a pirate was.

Scum of the earth, scum of the sea. Some were even rejected by the sea: they'd eaten these magical fruits known as the Devil fruits. 'They have the eyes of monsters.. they have the power of the devil himself. Once you've eaten a devil fruit, there is no sea that will accept you.

So why? Why had you never seen one? Sure, it was unlikely they'd ever find this place, as even a Logue Pose could never lock onto it: this small mass of land was barely more than a hunk of beautiful rock. But surely, there'd be tales of pirates somewhere?

"So this is where you ran off to!"

Your head turned just a bit, smiling at the sight of him. A tall, snow white haired boy stood behind you with a smirk resting on his features.

"Shouldn't have been that hard to find me," you shot back, standing and moving away from the cliffs edge. The sound of the water crashing against the rocks was lulling: you and Killian both knew it.

"So sue me! You switch where you act all deep and wise every other day-"

Killian bumped his shoulder against yours. You raised your hands in defense, grinning. Your thoughts lay forgotten, "act? You forget, I aced the flying tests long before you did!"

"Flying has nothing to do with brains, Featherhead!"

"Oh really? I dare you to recite from memory the proper movements for a barrel twist."

Contrary to popular belief, there were many different forms of a barrel. Sure, the roll itself would always be a tuck and turn, but a twist was erratic. You had to know where and when to pull out and back into it, how fast to do it and how to launch an attack. It was, after all, an offensive maneuver.

"I'll take your silence as an answer, Kill."

"What difference does it make if I can't describe it? I can still do it!"

He glowered, and you couldn't resist a chuckle. "Because we'll have to teach the kids one day. Duh."

"Whatever. I'd make a way better teacher!"

"I'll leave you in the dust!"

"...the usual?"

Your banter quickly turned into the usual: a race. You'd known Killian for as long as you could remember. Both of you being born to a race of halfbreeds - taking on the features of a feathery, winged, tailed beast. There were a few of them on the island: the elders called you Viserons. Long ago, they were known for their speed, being the fastest amongst the dragons. Somewhere along the lines, a devil fruit had come into the picture - Elder Kisu had called it the human human fruit, and thus came fourth the humanoid Viserons.

"Let's go!"

3.. 2.. 1!

Wings flared into the air and a quick snap, both of you dove off the island peak. The wind whipped through your hair as you dove straight for the ocean water, snapping them open the second before you hit it and, with powerful thrusts, came height.

"A second later and you'd be a wet bird!"

Killian came to your side. His wings tips came to touch yours. They were such a beautiful snow white. Your tail curled inwards,

"We'll see who's a wet bird!"

The tufts of feathers in your hair pricked forward, and you continued to gain altitude, Killian hot on your heels. "Going higher won't help you, slowpoke!"

"Oh yeah? Remember that barrel twist?"

The clouds weren't even close to the limit. Breaking the cloud barrier in a puff of white wisp, and then you let your body fall.

Any mind to Killian was lost: falling, falling, falling. It was such a freeing feeling. Tucking your wings in you fell faster. The calculated wing beats not far above you told you Killian was gaining, but that wasn't important, now was it? The wind whipped through your hair, chilled your skin in such a delightful manner: now! Wings snapping open, you caught yourself, right wing extended slightly farther to ensure the real twist. A grin spread upon your features as your body began to even out with the horizon, your other wing snapping out to catch yourself.

"I'm not done yet!"

In a flash of black and white, Killian whizzed past you. A hand was on his hat to ensure it didn't go flying, and the chase was on.

You weren't sure how much time had passed. Could've been hours, could've been mere less than. Usually, the two of you would've turned back by now, but the wind had felt so good to chase away the lingering thought of what truly is a pirate? Your birth island, Shigan, was nowhere in sight. Which was fine- being a Viseron had more perks than just wings - your bodies were drawn to masses of land, and while judging of distance may not always be accurate, the strongest gut feeling was usually the closest island.

Nothing but endless blue water and cloudy gray skies was in your sight.

That was when you realized: where's Killian?

Slowing to a stop, you came to realize: he was nowhere in sight.

"Kill?"

You called out. Now that you'd stopped, you realized one thing. The gray clouds were no longer gray. They were a horrifying dark black. Each powerful pump of your wings was getting met with resistance by the growing wind, the air carrying the scent of rain and the tingle of possible lightning.

"KILLIAN!"

You shouted, head craning as you began to lose altitude. Had he turned back? Had one of you flown so far and lost sight of the other?

No time to worry about that. If Killian was ahead of you, he'd already be in the head of it. If he was behind you, he'd have long seen this so sudden storm.

"Crap.. I can't feel.. any land nearby." You cursed, the wind pushing you off balance. Head for the eye of the storm.

"Got no choice! You've got this!"

As you dove, your body was quickly growing soaked. Thunder roared in your ears, lightning flashed before your eyes.

Dive, twist, rise, dodge. Don't fight the wind, flow with it. Don't become a bigger target than necessary.

Dive away from the strikes of lightning, twist with the wind, rise from the giant waves. There wasn't a moment of peace as you fought against the roaring storm: one wrong move, and you'd be in the sea. It was bad enough trying to fly, with your feathers slowly but surely soaking through.

There was no end to the storm. Your clothes has long since been Soaked through, you couldn't see through the endless torrent of falling water, and to make matters worse, your skin began to tingle.

Well, shit.

You didn't even have time to truly feel the dread before a blinding flash of light sent you tumbling towards the unwelcoming sea.

"She's got wings! How cool!"

"Look at the tail, it's so long."

"She's drenched is what she is."

"I wanna touch her wingsss!"

"Back off, Luffy!"

"Give me some space, please! She's probably suffering from hypothermia.. need to see if there's any other injuries.. sanji! Can you go get some extra blankets? We need to warm her up."

"On it! Oh what a beauty she is.."

I can't recognize those voices. God, am I even awake? I can't feel my body right now.. what happened? I need to.. open my eyes..

It didn't take long for the true unconsciousness to take you once more.

. . .

"Gah.. my head.."

You groaned, hoisting yourself out of bed and rubbing the back of your neck. Shitty didn't even begin to describe how you felt: what happened? Why did it smell so weird in your room, more importantly?

"So you're awake. 'Bout time."

Turning your head, you were met with the intense gaze of a green haired man.

..green hair. Not white hair.

"...WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

It wasn't a face you recognized. In a split second you'd grabbed the pillow and threw it at the strange man's face, wings snapping open as you launched yourself at him.

"woah- HEY RELAX-"

A strong hand grabbed your arm and shoved you against the wall, and you winced in pain, but not hindering your knee to his groin.

Heh.

The man's eye twitched and you could almost see him questioning his very existence, though his grip never wavered. That was fine, you decided, as you clenched your teeth , fangs glinting,

"I'd suggest letting go. I bite."

"Why you little shit-"

"Zoro! Are you manhandling the patient?"

This time, a feminine voice spoke. The man released your wrist and backed away quickly: grumbling something about she attacked first before retreating back to his seat.

"I dunno where I am, but don't think I'll go easy on you! Where's Killian?!"

Your voice was rough, and the female came into view: a rather beautiful young woman with bright orange hair.

"Relax! We're not holding you hostage- we found you drifting on some planks during the storm. You're lucky, aren't you?"

Storm? Right. I remember that..

Your eyes narrowed and you sidestepped to keep both newcomers in your vision, feeling rather trapped. Getting a closer look at the room you were in, it was easy to recognize it as an infirmary. Nursing sheets, medicines, bandages- oh, hey, there's bandages on my head. Didn't even notice until now.

"...I mightve gotten struck be lightning. Or been too close to the strike."

You replied slowly, tail curling around your leg. "That doesn't explain to me who you are, where I am, or why you saved me."

"Of course, where are my manners? I'm Nami, and the brute over there is Zoro. He might be a little scary looking, but he's really just a big idiot."

"Brute? She's the only brute! She kicked me in my nuts!"

You watched Nami inhale a breath, cast a glance at you, and offer the most amused smirk she could. For what its worth, now that you were awake, you felt a little bad. But apologies would have to wait until after you figured out their intentions.

"Of course she did! Waking up to the sight of a strange man can do that. Anyways. You're on our pirate ship, the Going Merry and-"

"..PIRATE SHIP?! YOU'RE PIRATES?!"

You intervened, instantly backing yourself into the wall. Your wings flared open instinctively, feathers Puffing up as you reached for the nearest thing you could throw at them. Currently, said object was a spoon.

"Woah, hey! We're not brutes - well, Zoro is one of the exceptions but- you can calm down. If we were gonna hurt you, wouldn't we have done it already?"

You were completely aware of how fast Zoro had stood and moved closer, and you eyed him warily. She has a point, though.. and you got a strange feeling that if he really viewed you as a threat, you wouldn't have gotten away.

"Hey! What's the commotion abou- GUYS SHES AWAKE!"

This time you were met with a man with a long nose, the door having been thrown open. In an instant, a man with a straw hat and a-

A tiny deer?

"She's awake! She woke up even sooner than you said she would, Chopper!"

The straw hat person practically bounced over to you, and you withdrew quickly.

"HI there! Your wings are so cool! Can I touch them?!"

You pressed yourself further against the wall, wings tucking in protectively. "Touch them, and you're a goner." You threatened, feeling the swordsman- Zoro, Nami said his name was, move closer. You shrank away from him.

"Awhh! No fun!"

"My most humble apologies," you growled, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but I dont trust pirates."

"I guess it makes sense.. you're welcome to leave whenever you like, but atleast let Chopper finish his check-up." Nami stated, offering you a big smile. Your feathers tufts pinned to the side, and your gaze was once again brought down to the little deer.

"If you could.. please sit back down. I'd like to check your vitals!"

Oh my God it's A TALKING DEER- HES SO CUTE-

You couldn't help it. Kneeling down you put a hand on his head, smiling. "You're so cute! You're the doctor?!"

Chopper, as he's been called, flushed. And then started doing.. a weird dance?

"I'm not cute you big dummy! That doesn't make me happy at all~" He was clearly smiling though, and you laughed, shaking your head as you moved to sit on the bed, ensuring you kept everyone within your visual range.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy! The Captain! What's your name?!"

Of course the energetic one is the Captain, you thought, feeling a little weird. Chopper moved closer and began touching and prodding at you, occasionally asking you to stretch a limb or breathe.

"(Name). I'm (Name) from Aero Mountain." You replied, and Luffy, his name was, grinned. "Nice to meet you!"

"...likewise. I think."

"Still though.. why were you out flying during a storm?"

Right.

"I didn't intentionally do it. I was racing my friend and I got caught up in it.. i hope Killian is alright.

"You wouldn't have happened to see him, would you?"

You added hopefully. Nami shook her head sadly, "sorry, (Name). We haven't seen anyone else, in the skies or otherwise. We'll let you know if we do." Your head drooped a bit, but then remembered -

"Hey. Uhm.. Zoro?"

The swordsman angled his head towards you, an eyebrow raised.

"....sorry for kneeing you in the balls. You guys seem.. alright. I guess."

"Tch. Yeah, it was a good reaction. I guess from your point of view it was pretty scary."

Something told you he really only said that because Nami was glaring daggers at him: you also got the feeling she could keep them in line.

"...you guys don't really fit the picture of pirates I've always been told about."

You stated, glancing at the adorable Chopper. You'd always thought if you ever encountered pirates, you'd be met with terror, with large men carrying battle axes and women who'd tear off your head. These guys..

They just felt nice.

They all chuckled at your remark and Nami replied, "these guys really aren't that bad. Rowdy, sure, but bad guys? No. Surely you've met a decent pirate before?"

"Haven't met any, actually. According to the elders, pirates haven't reached our island in almost a century."

"Really? Surely they'd have reached it by now?"

"That's what I thought, too. But Logue poses aren't strong enough to attach onto our island. In fact, the only way to reach it is with a Viseron."

"A Viseron? What's that?"

Luffy perked up and you raised your wings, "I'm a Viseron."

"..that doesn't really answer the question. Besides, having wings and a tail."

Zoro eyed you and, yet again, you shrank a bit under his gaze. Even so, you could see the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well.. hundreds of years ago, Viserons were dragons. The fastest amongst them, if you will. Elder Kisu said a devil fruit came into the picture, and we eventually became more human than dragon, retaining only certain features." You lifted your wings to prove a point, unraveled your tail, and allowed your feathery tufts on your head to prick back up.

"As far as anyone is aware, the original Dragons went extinct a couple centuries ago. I get the feeling most dragons did."

"Ooooh! So cool! Do you have any special powers?!" Luffy asked, and, with no given warning, his neck stretched. Stretched around your body to look at your wings.

"WH- save that, what are you?!"

"Immm a rubber man!"

"....you get used to it." Zoro stated, and Nami pitched in, "that's everybody's reaction. Including ours."

"Rightttt..."

"..anyways. I can fly pretty fast, I can.. sense- islands? Or rather, masses of land. I'm a Logue Pose that isn't always reliable." You shrugged, "and my feathers are sharp. Don't touch-" you smacked Luffy's hand away.

Chopper finally stopped poking and prodding st you, he'd changed your bandages and took a step back.

"All done! You should Probably take it easy for a bit, the muscles around your wings are pretty strained." Chopper replied, "I don't think you gotta tell me that. ..by the way, how long was I out for?"

"A week."

Zoro stared at you as your jaw gaped a bit, but you quickly righted your expression. "Ah.. Great." I was on a pirate ship for a week. But I guess if they were gonna do something, it would've been done by now..

You stood and bowed, "thank you for taking care of me." You righted your posture as Nami batted a hand, "don't worry about it! I'm glad you're okay." "Yeah! ...so can you carry people while you fly?!"

Luffy asked that. You stared at him and shrugged. "To some extent. I can gain the same altitude or speed, nor would I be able to pull off any offensive or defensive maneuvers. ...but yes, by all technical terms, I can."

"Ohh cool! Take me flying then!"

Luffy practically attached himself to you, and without missing a beat you backed yourself into a wall, though without much force, and crossed your arms.

"I don't give free rides."

"Awhhh! No fun."

Luffy untangled himself from you and backed away, and you shook your head.

"Listen.. if there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know. Otherwise, I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Oh please, you're fine! You can always pay us back in berry!" Nami grinned, and you couldn't resist a chuckle.

"Besides, how do you plan on leaving? Chopper said you shouldn't be flying." Zoro questioned, a hand resting on his sword. What was a relaxed posture to him was a rather threatening looking one to you.

"Shouldn't doesn't mean couldn’t." You shot back, feathers puffing indignantly. "You're almost as bad as Zoro with bed rest!" Luffy laughed, and Nami bonked him over the head, "like you're any better!"

"Anyways.. please, you're more than welcome to stay with us. We could even bring you back to your home island!"

Nami glanced at Luffy, who instantly nodded his head in agreement.

"If it's all the same, I'll stay, but I won't be guiding you back to my island. The Elders would exile me for such a dangerous feat, nor do I wish to endanger those I care for. If we settle on the next island, i can fly back to mine for payment. It'll have to be a matter of you trusting me." You explained, part of to you hoped they wouldn't take that personally. The thing is, you just couldn't risk it. You didn't even know if they were actually good people yet, either.

"Thats fair." Chopper piped in, and the other three nodded. "Now cmon! Sanji should be getting done with dinner. You should join us!"

You didn't get much of a choice in the matter, with Zoro herding you out the door and Luffy chanting, meat, meat, meat! All the way to the dining hall.

. . .

It was approaching the middle of the night. Stars lit up the darkened sky, and the sea glistened gently under their shine. Leaning over the Going Merry's railing, you thought on the chaotic events during the day.

During dinner, you'd met Sanji, a .. rather eccentric cook, putting it plainly, and Usopp, the long nose one who'd ran off to inform the others you were awake. He was interesting, and so far, he'd yet to run out of stories to tell you of. Luffy and chopper had been chaotic during dinner, to say the least, and Nami spent quite a bit of her time wrestling them into control, and then laughing along side you. Zoro seemed to spend more time drinking than actually eating, and multiple times he'd gotten into some form of argument with Sanji.

"What a weird bunch.."

"I heard that."

You almost jolted out of your skin at the sound of his voice, coughing as you spun around to be met face-to-face with the crews swordsman.

"GAH! Some noise next time, would ya?!" You placed a hand over your chest, half being dramatic, and half recovering from the fact he almost made you fall over the railing. Zoro snickered, joining you against the railing.

"Pay more attention then, Feathers." Ah, yes. The nickname Luffy had dubbed you over dinner. He seemed to switch between using your actual name and the nickname, which, according to Nami, means he likes you. Not sure what good that knowledge does me, but whatever.

"Oh gimma a break! Traumatic event and all."

He scoffed and looked at the sky, "...any sign of your friend? I'm assuming you're still looking for them."

You nodded your head, feeling a sense of guilt. "Yeah.. I'm hoping I had flown ahead of him and he saw the storm before I did. If he didnt.. well.."

Zoro seemed to understand what you left unsaid, and cast you a swift glance.

"If your friend is anything like you, I'm sure he's fine." He grunted at last, shaking his head. "I don't think anybody can just get struck by lightning-" "don't think I was struck, I was probably just too close-" you intervened, "-yeah yeah. My point is, not everybody just gets struck, and gets saved by driftwood. I bet your friend found some, too, or he didn't get struck at all."

"I hope so."

A silence fell between the two of you, and you leaned farther over the railing, staring down at the water. To some extent, you could see the fish swimming just out of reach, and a smile graced your face as you reached a hand out.

At the same instant, you felt a hand on your back, gently gripping at your shirt.

"Careful now, or you're gonna end up a wet bird."

Huh.. how funny. That's one of the last things Killian told me.

You broke into a fit of giggles, leaning back up to stare at the swordsman. "Wet bird I may be, but I can still swim better than anyone on the crew, I bet."

"Wanna test that?" Zoro responded with a grin, and just as you readied yourself to respond, a rather panicked voice came from across the ship.

"Guys?! Come quick!"

It was Nami. Both you and Zoro ran to meet Nami, while Sanji, Luffy, and Chopper, came a bit slower, still groggy with sleep.

"What's wrong, Nami-swan?"

"Nami?"

Sanji and Luffy questioned simultaneously, while the rest of you waited in silence.

"The Logue Pose.. it won't lock on to an island."

[headchefshcs]

Creek NSFW with female reader? The dirtiest, raunchiest ones you could possibly think of

Just a Lil Pet // Creek x Fem!Reader

NSFW undercut, Minors DNI, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns

Ty anon I love writing about this mf

You were a respectable smart women who didn’t take shit from anyone. You were always the leader type and you took pride in that and yourself. That is untill you met creek. Now you had seen and met Creek a few time before but this time was different. He seemed more interested in you, coming up to you more frequently asking about you and your hobbies, your goals, etc. You liked that he found your interest appealing and how he wanted to spend time with you. It wasn’t long until you started to realize how much you actually liked him. It wasn’t long after the two of you started dating when Creek started to put his plan into action.

He starts to slowly make more suggestive ideas and actions,such as when he begged you to get matching earrings with him, saying how cute it would look on you. While unsure of it you did end up getting matching ear piercings as him and you did admit they looked cute. He would constantly try to get you to do more and more risky and humiliating things, but each time you shut him down. You tried to keep some of your self worth, while you liked him you still wanted a life besides him. And he would respect that right?

You were lying face down with Creek fucking you from behind. For a while you two had been going back and forth about how pushy he’d been and how you loved him, but there was more to life than him.

“Oh come on luv, you keep saying that but you know it’s not true…” he teased as he thrusted in and out of your pussy. You whined softly in protest. “Ugh I’ve asked nicely Y/N, I really have… but I’m not really asking at this point anymore…” “wha-“

A wave of pleasure cut you off. He had hit your G spot, you instantly threw your head back, overwhelmed with pleasure. Seeing your reaction told Creek all he needed to know as he aimed for it again and again. Tears of pleasure filled your eyes. While he’s fucked you spot in the past it had never felt this good before. His rough thrust became more persistent and precise it became overwhelming quickly. It wasn’t long before your vision and mind starting to get fuzzy as you barriers your head into the bed.

You soon forgot about what you had said before, as Creeks cock engulfing both your pussy and mind’s space. You moaned at the constant pressure of him hitting you spot with each hit and and more of your mind and dignity left you you. “Aww how’s my lil pet doing? Is she okay…” Creek sneers, picking up the pace. “Thats it just let it all go…Don’t you wanna feel like this all the time. No thoughts, no worries? Don’t you just want to let go and be with me?” “Mmmm… y-yesss mmmmm…” you nod as your eyes roll in the back of your head. He chucked as he leaned down towards you. “You’re gonna be such a fun lil pet to train, soon you nothin but a lil breeding hole for me to use, you’ll be feeling like this everyday luv, doesn’t that sound good…” He hissed into your ear as he came, his cum filling you, the amount of pleasure overwhelmed you as you soon pasted out from the pleasure.

It’s been about a month since Creek first broke you and you’ve made significant progress. The old you was practically gone now, no more being independent and the leader you once were. Now here you were, nothing but a slave to cock, so desperate and needy for it all the time. Your brain had no more time for anything you once enjoy. You instead much preferred to be on all fours, nude, and next to your master, such as the position you are in now.

As you sat there with what little brain power you had left you thought of how you wish you had just surrendered sooner. Why try so hard to be independent when you could be completely braindead, with the only thoughts you had were to please your master. Within the month you also had become no more than a shell of your former self.

An adorable lewd face, tongue out, drooling at the mere thought of cock. Your pussy dripping, yours and creeks cum dripping out, with some sliding down your thigh. Your golden clit piercing constantly stimulating you, and your womb tattoo with the phrase “Creeks Breeding Hole” cleanly printed. Your ass littered with hand prints and slaps as well as a beautifully colored tramp stamp, the words “Property of Creek” with the surroundings decorated with vibes and flowers. Your tits out with love bites all around them, your nipple piercings all shiny as the small gold chain that connects them, dangling. Your pretty collar glistening in the sun, the pendant being a cock with Creeks name engraved in it.

Your matching leash is attached to the collar, with your master being at the other end of it, causally talking to someone about god knows what. You mindlessly played with your clit with every once in a while Creek would tug on the leash, causing you to put more pressure on your piercing. Each time you whined softly the feeling making you more and more overwhelmed with pleasure. After what seemed like and eternity to you, though it was most likely only a few minutes Creek says his farewells to whom he was talking to. Once they were out of sight he looked down at you.

“aww what a pathetic little slut, I ignore you for a few minutes and here you are a bitch in heat begging for your masters cock hmmm?” Creek lifts your leash, gesturing you to sit up. You instinctively obey lifting yourself into a squatting position. You lifting your arms up, placing them at either side of your breast, you open your mouth up craving and begging for him.

//I hope you enjoy! I kinda fumbled with the middle, I’m still work on writing full fics so apologies! But I had so much fun writing this!

[tothesolarium]

Dining Out (click for better resolution)

Chapter Four

As Avery was trying to leave, he bumped into someone called an RA. To Avery, it was an Adult to avoid, even if the soul was barely 19. They reminded him about the orientation dinner and offered to show him around. Avery muttered something about finding the Library and ducked out the door.

     Do they always have a big dinner for the new kid? Avery’s stomach turned.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, in fact, he’d always had quite a few friends at his own school, but now. It felt wrong. There were friends he should still have, and moving on so quickly to people he might not even like? Avery’s hands clench and he tries to ignore the taste of copper.

    Avery shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked to the Campus ring. Only his mother could get him to do what he didn’t want to do. Even then it could be a battle. Avery was sure his mom would understand why he was leaving. Now his head only felt worse, remembering her warmth and laugh. If she was here he could talk to her while she cooks, and relax over the perfect meal. She always knew what to make that made the day feel better. Guilt stirred in Avery’s stomach, and he cursed himself for longing that she’d join him. He told himself that Earth must need her more.  

    The sky was starting to grow dark, casting Avery’s shadow out ahead. As a golden sunset kissed his back he took a hand out to play with his shadow. So Avery walked with rabbits and dogs that ran across buildings. Till Avery reached the onyx ring that lifted campus. When Lucifer had been taking Avery through town, he’d seen a couple of really curious restaurants. A few that looked familiar, but Avery wanted to try what he’d never seen before.

    While Avery’s brain and stomach were caught in grumbling fantasies, Avery slammed into nothing.

    Avery bit back curses as he was sure blood would be running down his nose. No matter how much he blinked he saw nothing ahead of him, other than the city and the way down. So Avery tried to take the ramp down but instead hit the same nothingness. Now, when he stumbled back, Avery could see a shimmer that arched up into the air. Like a bubble of soap over Campus.

    Avery rolls up his sleeves and charges the barrier. Flung back, Avery gets up again and starts to kick the shimmering air. Avery mocks and curses every inch of Hell as they try to break free. He tried to walk through the barrier again, and again. He walked a couple of feet to the right and tried it. Then gave a running jump. The more he tried the farther back the barrier threw him. Now he did have a bruised nose and shoulder.

    A couple of people were walking the street beyond and watched the little human bounce. A few were spirits of Hell who found it very funny. One apparent human looked on sympathetically. None stopped to tell him it was pointless.

    “You know, the Demon council has alerts on these things,” a voice calls out from behind. Avery spins with a  first raised.

     “Oh my, are we fighting?” The stranger laughs. Avery’s hands lower enough to see the stranger’s eyes. They were too bright, reflecting the sunset with spots of green.

    Avery’s hands nearly dropped when he noticed what the stranger was wearing. Black overalls over a patterned leotard, with bronze bangles and a feather boa.

    “I don’t want to fight,” Avery says, their fists relaxing.

    “Then let’s not,” the stranger smiles, showing crooked and pointed teeth. “You’re the new kid right?“ Avery nods stiffly.

    “Didn’t want to go to your big welcome dinner?” The stranger’s smile only grew more crooked.

    “Not at all,” Avery grimaces as they glance over to the Campus.

    “Too stuffy?” They cock their head to the side.

    “I just died and I am supposed to eat dinner in a cafeteria?” Avery was surprised at his volume, but the stranger just laughed and nodded along.

    “That’s so true! This school thing is so boring,” The stranger twirls a hand back to the campus, showing off many copper rings on their fingers.

    “Why can’t I just have some fun?” Avery sighs heavily.

    “Well, I got great news for ya.” The stranger props one hand on their waist and holds out the other. “Hell can be very fun. The name’s Vassago, All pronouns work, and I think I got what it takes to get you through this bubble.” When Avery takes Vassago’s hand, they are pulled closer to a mischievous grin. “Think you can handle it?” Vassago’s grin doesn’t fade as they let go of Avery.

    “Of Course!” Avery said with a puffed-up chest.  

     “Alright give me your hands,” Vassago says and Avery reaches his hands out slowly. Vassago’s hands are much warmer than He is prepared for. Vassago had painted nails that changed color with the heat, so a swirling blue.

    “What are you doing?” Avery can only look up at Vassago’s eyes for a moment, then back to their hands.

    “You’ll see,” Vassago says calmly, as fire bursts around their hands. Avery tried to let go of Vassago but his hand wouldn’t respond. All they could do was watch the cool green fire wrap around their hands. The flames flicked up Avery’s arms and slipped under his sleeves. A chill washed over his whole body, and then the fire was gone.

    “How do you have magic?” Avery blurts out once he can let go of Vassago.

    “I study,” Vassago flutters their eyelashes innocently. “It’s a simple charm, It’ll help you through, mainly this barrier but…” Vassago closes one eye as he looks from Avery to the bubble. “It’ll be fun,”

    “What does that mean?” Avery’s eyes narrow.

    “What I said,” Vassago beams. “Now, you hungry?”

    “Yes,” Avery finally said after their stomach’s grumbling stopped him from staring at this stranger. Vassago walks lightly down the steps, her hands out to the sides as she bounces along. Avery follows stiffly behind, watching as the bubble slips over them, for a moment his vision is just the iridescent rainbow, and then Vassago leads the way.  

    “How did you get into Magic?” Avery lets go of Vassago’s hand once they are on the sidewalk.  

    “The school has courses on it, and I’ve looked through the books in the library,” Vassago says with a practiced ease, and Avery raises an eyebrow.

    “Really?” Avery didn’t trust Vassago’s tone.

    “Would I lie?” Vassago smiles brightly.

    “How should I know, I just met you,” Avery glares, which makes Vassago laugh. “Well, How long will the school’s magic class take for me to do, whatever that was?” Avery asks.

    “A year at best. That’s if you show you're dedicated and write an essay explaining so.” Vassago sneers.

    “Gross,” Avery grumbles.

    “Right? I think the school should be open to folk with natural talent, but no, they got to get the same writing practice and fundamentals as everyone else,” Vassago rolls his eyes.

    “Can they stop me from doing magic on my own?” Avery asks, and Vassago tries to keep an innocent expression.

    “Well, it’s not a crime if you don’t get caught?” Vassago said with a smirk, “Just don’t bite off more than you can chew,” was the best warning Vassago could muster, but it landed in passing as they both became distracted by their colorful surroundings.

    Vassago and Avery walked blindly through the city. Avery trusts that Vassago would say something if she didn’t intend to go somewhere. While Vassago assumed Avery had seen a particular restaurant they wanted to go to. This could be a nightmare to those in need of a plan, but Avery was having a great time.

    The two have a conversation that leaps from topic to topic, following every rabbit trail imaginable. When Avery’s words start to run dry, the silence is easy. Vassago explained the oddities of the city every once in a while but happily walked in the silence. Avery assumed they were walking past stores, as they had quite the display of arts, crafts, and other creations or gadgets. Till he had looked at one longingly enough that Vassago pushed him through the door.  

    A simple watch, with a black band and face, with red hands that ticked a gentle tune. Avery had never had a watch, but one of his friend’s father had said that all men should have one.

    “Uh- my uh- friend said that I can, just…ask for this?” Avery felt like his face would melt off with embarrassment as he approached the old stranger. To Avery’s great surprise, The watchmaker’s eyes lit up in glee.

    “Young, man?” Avery nods. “Young man! It’s been so long since a kid has wanted what I make. Do you want the Onyx one? Certainly, it’s yours.” The watchmaker, a round human with a joyfully wrinkled face, got up and retrieved the watch from its display. The watchmaker put it on for Avery and explained the basic care.

    “If something happens, feel free to come here. I can teach you how to fix it yourself, but also, I won’t be going anywhere,” The watchmaker laughs and pats Avery’s shoulder.  Avery smiles, and thanks the crafter over and over.

    “What just happened?” Avery asks Vassago, staring at the watch that feels far too precious for his wrist.

    “Nothing?” Vassago tilts his head to the side.

    “This watch looks so fancy, why’d they just give it to me?” Avery asks while staring at the masterpiece on his wrist.

    “I mean- you got all sentimental looking, I noticed and I’m sure the maker did too.”

    “Shouldn’t I have to pay? Or do something for them?” Avery asks, and Vassago throws her arms into the air. So many words want to come out, and instead, their hands drop back down with a curse.

    “Money’s bullshit and a gift is wonderful to give!” That is all that Vassago can manage to get out.

    “Aren’t these stores?” Avery points to the window full of gowns and colorful suits.

    “Nah, we don’t have money like that. Some people will want some help if you want something big from them but, these are people’s studios and homes,” Vassago stops herself from going on a rant about fair trading and the magic of a gift when she sees the wonder in Avery’s eyes.  

     Avery stops at a crosswalk, “Which way?” Avery asks and Vassago shrugs.

    They cross the street and finally, Avery spots a restaurant that catches his attention. Well, it’s a food truck that sells candied crickets and smoked lizards.

    “So I don’t need money?” Avery looks to Vassago.

    “Nah, just ask but…that’s… that’s your pick?” Vassago’s eyebrows look like they are going to fly off his face.

    “I’ve never seen it before!” Avery beams and skips over to the truck. Avery and the cook start laughing as Avery explains his friend’s horror. Avery shuffles back like a happy penguin to Vassago, chewing on the smoked stick with a small basket of candied crickets.

    Avery certainly thought it was a weird meal, but the calmer he acted, the more disgusted Vassago was. So Avery had to keep the act up.

    Vassago eventually turns his back on Avery, holding an arm out to keep Avery away.

    “We are now going to get something good,” Vassago declares.

    “Oh I’m full,” Avery grins.

    “For Me,” Vassago glares over his shoulder at Avery but is shaking with a laugh as they walk on. They walk quietly. Avery happily eats, a relaxed brain starting to feel the haze of sleep. Avery’s mind tries to go down familiar paths, but they lead to a life now gone. To people he wouldn’t see, and would never be able to make laugh again. His old friends would have thought this was so funny, and his mother would have had a similar reaction to Vassago. Instead of lingering on the weight on his chest, Avery tried to focus on what was in front of him, the sweetness on his tongue keeping him present.

    Then Vassago started to talk about the place they were going, and Avery focused on their voice. It was a voice Avery could not describe. Sweet and rough, a laugh that bubbled easily, despite the harsh banks she was hiding from Avery. The light way Vassago talked, brought memories of the time Avery had seen his mom come home from the first date she’d ever told him about. She was all smiles and with a slight sway to her step. That night they had chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.

    Once they got Vassago a smoothie, Avery’s mind was back to its bouncy state and had more questions.

    “So, Can I learn magic outside of class?” Avery asks.

    “Well, Of course, but it depends on who you know, and how many risks you want to take,” Vassago says carefully.

    “So you’ll teach me?” Avery’s eyes were wide.

    “God No,” Vassago smiles with closed eyes, though she knows Avery is glaring. “I can help you with some things but, just cuz I know magic doesn’t mean I know how to teach.”

    “But you can teach me a little bit?” Avery was not daunted.

    “What do you think I’ve been doing?” Vassago snorts a little. “Seriously though, don’t try anything too quickly. You are magic now, so messing with it could permanently affect your body and… humanity.” Vassago tries to see if Avery is taking this seriously, but the child is off in thoughts about bolts of fire, and starry robes.

    “Alright give me the basics,” Avery was almost bouncing while they walked.

    “That’s the thing, there aren’t basics. You need to learn more about your magic body and how magic can react to different elements, offerings, intentions, people, and environment, but It depends on what you believe on Earth and what you will eventually believe. It all can affect your soul if you’re not careful!.” Vassago looks to see if Avery is overwhelmed. While Avery was daunted, he still wanted to climb the cliff. So Vassago kept talking.

    “Hell doesn’t have atoms or quarks, all it has is magic. Hell tries to replicate the tangible matter of Earth, but it’s fundamentally an illusion. If you believe the illusion it’s real, you play by its rules, but the more you learn about the framework the more you can play and make spells, of a sort.  Even on Earth, people think life isn’t real, so it can be even wigglier here. It’s great for changing things, but if you can’t come back to our shared reality or get lost in the illusion…” Vassago winces instead of going down all the ways things could go wrong.

    “Nothings real?” Avery’s voice shakes slightly.

    “Haven’t you heard? I mean, your vision on Earth is an illusion of sorts too, it’s upside down till you- our brain fixes it.” Vassago is grateful for the slight existential crisis Avery had which distracted them from her fumble. Then she rubs Avery’s back to try and bring him back to the present. “Nothing is technically real, which makes everything we do vastly more important. Even if this isn’t real, there are still souls that can experience suffering and joy. The unrestrained pursuit of magic has warped people out of their Humanity. Which is why we have capital W Wizards, which are… no longer humans, and can have no moral compass or one that is… unique.” Vassago takes a deep breath.

    “Take your time to learn the fun magic, and take even more time to just enjoy yourself,” Vassago says with a hearty clap to Avery’s back.

    “So you’re saying I gotta take the damn class?” Avery’s nose wrinkles up.

    “It would help you a lot more than I can,” Vassago grins.

    “Lame,” Avery says with a sigh, but his mind keeps wandering.

    “How many Wizards are there?” Avery asks.

    “Hard to know, only three live within the city.”

    Avery’s eyes go wide.

    “They wouldn’t be in the city if they were a threat to us. I don’t want to say go and burn your humanity, as these kind Wizards didn’t go about it recklessly. They are simply ancient and… Red did a lot for the early days of Hell. She sometimes comes out to talk, and she’s fun if confusing. ”

    “Red?” Avery blinks.

    “I’ve taught enough!” Vassago flings his hands into the air, hiding a wash of grief in his eyes.

    “Lame, could be fun to learn from one,” Avery shoves their hands in their pockets.

    “My point on the Wizards is, if something goes badly it might not be the end of your life with friends, but you still gotta be careful!” Vassago says loudly and pokes Avery’s chest.

    The Silence felt different, and they were no longer walking blindly through the City. Vassago was directing turns and heading into a tighter-packed part of the city. Till they stopped in front of a black building with no windows. Across the front was a shock of colors that almost looked like flowers.

    “Well, it’s now time for me to meet with some of my other friends, do you want to come along?” Vassago asks with a raised brow, and Avery’s face scrunches up. The sound of heavy music shook its way through the door, and Avery did not want to experience it directly.

    “I think I got Wizards to find,” Avery says with a crooked smile.

    “Good luck with that,” Vassago laughs. “It was nice meeting you Avery, enjoy the rest of your night.”

    Avery was then wrapped in a tight hug. Warm, and steady with a soft smell of flowers and amber. Then Vassago let go, waved goodbye, and vanished into the building.

    Avery did not take a direct walk back home, and when they fell into bed it was filled with dreams he would not remember. A sword falling from his hands no matter how much he tried to hold it, a flower opening as people far away reaching out for his hand. A horse trying to eat a hat that fit him perfectly.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Writing Snippet: A 'What If?'

Alright, so I did a bit of "speculative" writing for the Destiny's New Servants campaign before I took over as GM, trying to figure out where the first GM was going with the story. I've lost most of that writing due to changing laptops and being careless with file transfers over the years (make sure you back up your work kids), but I found this one hidden in the depths of my external hard drive about a month ago.

I vividly recall writing the following piece over the course of about a week. I started the morning after the session where Starhammer died because I wanted to remember every detail of that session, then just... carried on with my ideas of what might happen next.

Now, I was also wondering how best to have Merri leave the picture once I took hold of the reins of the campaign at this point. I had an idea of what I had planned to happen back in Fangthane, but the fact was, the first DM was not going to go easy on us, and it was very likely at least one of the characters would die in the fight against Darkhide. We also knew that Darkhide wanted to rip open the portal to the Pit again, and we'd used up all the God Clay that was left on Titan; what the hell were we going to do if he succeeded? So I wrote something to cover that exact scenario. It all becomes a bit self-indulgent, but that's part of why I like it so much. I apologise in advance to anyone using screen readers, I couldn't think of a decent way to split up the different sections of the story. I'll change it once I come up with something that isn't so much of a pain in the backside for you.

This fairly long piece covers the aftermath of Starhammer's death then skips forward a bit, just as a heads up. The speculative stuff starts after Merri's conversation with Elowyn and Enezeage.

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @freedominique

Elowyn grumbled as Enezeage shimmied down the wall and back onto the street. She got down as the half-orc rolled his shoulders,

“Should we go in after them?” he asked, cracking his knuckles. Elowyn shook her head,

“No, first we need to find Meredith and find out if she wants to press charges.” She said firmly, “We can’t just go in and start arresting people.” Enezeage grumbled, but nodded and looked up the street, noticing that the Celestial Dog had paused in front of what seemed to be a grove of trees. He pointed to it,

“What’s that?” he asked. Elowyn wracked her brain for a moment,

“That’s the Grove of Obad-Hai.” She replied, cautiously running up to it and stopping as she saw a very pale and shaken looking Meredith come out of the trees, along with a man in dark brown clerical robes. The man bowed slightly to the Woodling and turned to Meredith,

“Remember what we said, Daughter of Moradin.” He said sternly, before melding with a nearby tree. Elowyn made a face as the Grove seemed to retract and create a firm barrier around the outside,

“I hate those trees.” She muttered, before turning her attention to Meredith. Upon seeing the look on the Dwarf’s face, she rushed up to her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders,

“Meredith, oh by all the Gods, what happened?” she asked as the other woman began to shake, quite violently, the Woodling noticed. Meredith’s breath hitched as she tried to speak but couldn’t seem to quite manage. Elowyn rubbed her shoulders, “Come on Merri, talk to us.” She said in as soothing as voice as she could manage, waving a hovering Enezeage back slightly. Meredith took a few shallow, shaky breaths and clutched the book she was carrying to her chest tightly,

“St–Starham–mer… he’s– he’s dead.” She finally managed to choke out, tears streaking down her face as the events of the whole evening finally hit her. Elowyn’s hands stopped abruptly, staring at the dwarf with wide-eyed shock,

“Wh–what happened?” she asked in a low voice. Meredith hugged herself tighter,

“The beer… the traitorous swine, he spiked the beer wi–wi’ ooze.” Elowyn’s heart dropped into her stomach,

“Oh no.” she moaned, bringing the traumatized dwarf into a tight hug, “Merri, I’m so, so sorry.” She said, tears stinging her own eyes. Enezeage grunted,

“What about those robed dudes?” he asked gruffly. Elowyn sighed and nodded, gently pushing the dwarf back so she could look at her again,

“I take it those guys showed up when you came outside?” she asked. Meredith nodded,

“Aye, they wanted tae know who I wis an– an’ whit I wis doiin’.” She replied, her voice raw, “I summoned the dug when they drew their swords an’ chased me doon the street.” She finally met Elowyn’s eyes, “They s–said they were bounty hunters.” Elowyn nodded,

“Right ok, Merri I have to ask you this because it’s important.” She said her tone turning a bit firmer, “Do you want to press charges against those guys?” she asked. Meredith fell silent for several long moments, chewing her bottom lip as she thought the question over. Finally, she slowly shook her head. Elowyn bit back a growl of frustration,

“Are you sure? We can get these guys arrested and taken off the streets.” She said. Meredith glanced down at the floor,

“I– It’s no’ worth it.” She said quietly, “D– dinna take this  the wrong way, but… I dinna trust that they won’t just get away’ with it.” Elowyn sighed and forced Meredith to look at her. When this was accomplished she pointed to her badge,

“You see this badge?” she said, “That means that I can go arrest those hooligans and get them locked up and make sure they never get out onto the streets again.” Meredith gave the Woodling a sullen glare,

“Then why don’t ye tell that to the officer who tried to kill me when they paid him off.” She retorted bitterly. Enezeage growled,

“Let’s just go take care of them, Elowyn. We know what they’re doing is wrong anyway.” Elowyn looked up at the Monk and shook her head as she came to the realisation that perhaps Meredith might be right,

“No, if Meredith doesn’t want to press charges, then we have no choice in the matter.” She told him firmly. She turned back to the Dwarf, who was still huddled into herself, “Are you sure you don’t want to press any charges?” she asked. Meredith nodded,

“Aye, it’s not as though anyone's gonna waste their time with the only dwarf left in the city anyway.” She muttered darkly. Elowyn sighed heavily,

“Alright.” She said, “Can you at least remember what this officer you ran into looked like?” Elowyn made up a mental image of the man as Meredith described him and nodded firmly. She recalled that he was likely one of the Road Wardens.

‘Right then, looks like I’ll need to go have a word with someone’s superior officer.’ She thought to herself, gently looping her arm around Meredith and guiding the poor woman away from the Grove,

“Come on then, let’s get you home.” She said gently, motioning with her head for Enezeage to take point. The Half-Orc grumbled, but did what he was silently told, tucking his arms into the sleeves of his own robe as the little group finally began to make their way back to Acacia Avenue.

~*~

Meredith rocked back on her heels with a sigh, she was devoted to Moradin, no question about that. However, even as she reached for His grace this morning, there was… nothing. The hollow feeling that was left behind after Starhammer’s death was hitting the young dwarf hard. Darkhide was still a massive threat that needed to be taken care of, but could she even be of any help to the others at this point? That she could not reach her God scared the cleric, although she knew it was unlikely that Moradin had forsaken her it was still disconcerting to receive no response to her daily prayers.

‘Not only that, but the High Priest and Archlector will have felt the shift by now as well.’ She thought to herself as she got up and made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

~*~

Orock had held a lovely service to Starhammer’s memory, Meredith thought, but that she could not hold a proper Dwarven ceremony upset her more than the knowledge that the older dwarf was gone. Elowyn, bless her, had tried to help but the Woodling just could not understand just how deeply Dwarves held their traditions. Unfortunately, even if there had been a body to bury, Moradin was not available to grant any Blessings and Meredith doubted that Throff would want to stick around either. Meredith was still nursing the first mug of ale she had been handed, unable to really bring herself to drink all that much, when a lanky human came rushing into the back room,

“Elowyn! We got a situation at the Garden of Galana!” Farren yelled as he dodged an irate Khord Inititate whose drink he had knocked over. The Woodling was on her feet instantly,

“What kind of situation?” she demanded, kicking Enezeage in the shin to wake him back up and rounding up the rest of her group. Farren grunted,

“Apparently, a bunch of men in black cloaks have a problem with the church’s High Priest and are trying to get into the Garden to ‘have a word’.” Elowyn frowned,

“But why would they…?” Elowyn muttered, trailing off as she realised what the problem was. She glanced over to Meredith, who had grabbed her mace and Book of Moradin and was looking over at the Paladin expectantly. Elowyn sighed and turned to Farren,

“Has the local Watch House responded yet?” she asked. Farren shook his head,

“The Captain in charge said something about it being an ‘ecumenical matter’.” He said, clearly not happy with that explanation. Elowyn frowned and turned to Meredith,

“You’re staying here.” She said simply, gesturing for the rest to follow her. She expected to hear an angry exclamation and to be asked why, so when it didn’t come, Elowyn looked back over her shoulder with a worried frown. Meredith had gone back to her seat, without comment and was back to staring into the mug of ale she had been nursing. Orock frowned as he looked between the dwarf and Woodling, and made his way to stand behind Meredith,

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” He rumbled, “You’d better get going.” He said, laying a large hand on the dwarf’s comparatively tiny shoulder. Elowyn nodded,

“Once we’ve sorted this whole thing out, I’ll get someone to come back and get her.” She said, running out of the Plot Hook and making her way, with the rest of her companions to the other side of the city.

~*~

Elowyn almost skidded to a stop as she finally made it to the Garden of Galana. She had expected that the Abouna would use some clerical magic to keep the area safe. What she hadn’t expected was the sight of a tall human Wizard with auburn hair and spectacles, standing in front of the entrance to the Garden, holding back a very irate group of humans in black cloaks.

“Step aside!” the leader of the people in black cloaks hissed, “There’s a stunty in there that has a very good price on his head.” The Wizard snorted,

“I’m giving you gentleman one last chance to leave before I get upset.” She replied evenly, gripping the Yew staff in her hand a little tighter. Elowyn smiled a little,

“Hey Derren, what do you say we let these fine men know who they’re back-chatting?” she asked, looking up at her partner. Farren, catching the look in the Woodling’s face, grinned,

“Yeah, why not?” he asked, grabbing his cosh. Elowyn looked back at Felix and Enezeage,

“You guys stay back here with Aurri and grab the ones that decide to scarper.” She said, “I think Abouna Shiverstaff and Grand Wizard Frigidwake are a bit more likely to try pressing charges so we can nick this sorry lot.” Enezeage grinned around his tusks and nodded,

“Finally.” He growled. Felix brought his hands into a casting position and nodded. Elowyn looked up to Farren again and nodded, casually walking around the group of men until she came around to the front.

“Is there a problem, Grand Magus?” Elowyn asked, using her best ‘on the beat copper’ voice. The leader whirled around, a little panicked as he suddenly seemed to realise just who it was he was up against. Selene smirked a little and looked over to Elowyn,

“Good afternoon, Officer O’Toreguard, Officer Breakwood.” She greeted happily, “I was just asking these fine gentlemen to leave the area.” She explained, “They seem to have this ridiculous notion that they can collect a bounty on the good Abouna’s head, despite Toreguard Law clearly stating that all religious figures are under the full protection of the Drakemarie Empire.” She added. Elowyn tapped her chin thoughtfully,

“Really now?” she asked, turning to the group of humans, “What do you lot have to say about these accusations then?” she asked politely. The leader, who had backed off, glowered at the Woodling,

“Seems like there was a bit of a misunderstanding.” He said in a low voice, “We weren’t aware that the… dwarf that was in the area was the High Priest of the church.” He said. Elowyn looked at her fingernails and tutted,

“Well you see, that’s a bit of a problem. I was under the impression that the few Dwarves still in the city were still protected from murder and abuse under general Toreguard Law, not just the religious figures.” She said, glancing up to her partner, “Officer Breakwood, what do you think?” she asked. Farren tapped his cosh against his boot,

“I think you’re right, O'Toreguard.” He said, “I don’t recall any news about changes to the law, I think I’d remember if someone said something about Dwarves being fair game.” The leader of the other group backed up some more,

“Well, we’ll just be on our way then.” He said, turning around in an attempt to get away, only to find that the people at the back had already been either knocked out or frozen in place as they tried to flee. Enezeage cracked his knuckles,

“Hullo there sunshine.” He growled, grinning somewhat menacingly. The human grunted as Farren grabbed his wrists and cuffed him. Elowyn turned to Selene,

“Well at least now we can get this lot booked once we get them to the nearest station.” She said. The Wizard nodded,

“I believe I can help with that.” She smiled. She looked up to a nearby rooftop and whistled. Almost immediately a large magpie flew down and fluttered onto her shoulder. Selene tickled the bird under his beak, “Chrackle, take this down to the nearest Watch House, we need a couple of wagons to take these fine gentlemen there.” She said, quickly taking out a slip of parchment and quill and making a note. The magpie chuckled as she tied the note to its leg. Selene rolled her eyes,

“After you get back. Stop being greedy.” She chastised. The magpie chuckled again as it flew off. Selene looked at the group of men, who were being rounded up by Farren and Enezeage, then turned to Elowyn,

“Thank you for the help Elowyn.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose, “I didn’t want to have to resort to casting anything to scare them off.” Elowyn nodded as she leaned against the outer wall around the Garden, watching as Farren read the whole group their rights

“I know, at least I’ve managed to get a hold of these guys now.” She sighed, shaking her head. Selene frowned down at the Woodling,

“What happened?” she asked in a low voice. Elowyn shook her head sadly,

“These guys don’t know it, but Enezeage and I know exactly what they’re about. Merri sent a Celestial Dog to find us because she was in trouble. She ran into these guys last night and they chased her all the way from the Dwarven District to the Grove of Obad-Hai.” Selene frowned,

“Why didn’t she stay in the temple?” she asked, “Between them she and Starhammer should have…” Elowyn was shaking her head again,

“Starhammer’s dead Selene.” The Woodling said, her voice tight. “By the time ‘Zeage and I got there, the temple didn’t look too good either.” Selene sighed heavily and pushed her glasses up her nose,

“Egrim’s not going to be pleased with the news.” She muttered, “Once word reaches Fangthane about that, every dwarf in the vicinity is going to get called back there and Father Shiverstaff only just got this place back up and running.” The two women watched as a paddy wagon rumbled up the street and the robed men were loaded onto. Chrackle landed on Selene’s shoulder with a satisfied croak. The Wizard fished out a regular gold coin from her purse and handed it to the bird, who chuckled happily. The captain of the nearby watchhouse approached and saluted Selene smartly,

“Do we know if the High Priest wishes to press charges?” he asked. Elowyn stepped forward,

“Elowyn O’Toreguard, watchhouse eight sir.” She greeted smartly with a salute of her own, “If you will allow the Grand Wizard and myself an hour or so to talk to the Abouna about the matter we can let you know as soon as we can.”  The Captain narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded,

“Very well then. I will get these lads back to the watchhouse while we wait.” He said stiffly. Once he was gone, both Elowyn and Selene frowned in concern,

“ Do you think they might get away with it after all that?” Elowyn asked quietly. Selene sighed,

“Almost certainly.” She replied heavily, “But we can’t dwell on that right now. I think we’d better let Egrim know they’re gone.” The Wizard looked expectantly at her familiar, who croaked in acknowledgement and fluttered to a heavy vine. The bird cocked its head for a moment before tapping on the wood. After a moment the vines retracted and another Woodling popped her head out of the door to the church,

“Elowyn, Selene?!” she exclaimed, rushing out and pulling the Paladin into a hug, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe! I was so worried!” Selene smiled and nodded in greeting, while Elowyn hugged the other woman,

“I know mum. Look, can we come in and see the Abouna? It’s important.�� Oakrose nodded,

“Of course dear, come on in, all of you. I’ll get the kettle on.” The whole group were ushered inside and told to wait in the refectory. Selene held up a hand before going inside. She quickly gestured and muttered a few words, a silver shimmer hanging in the air for a few moments before dissipating. The Wizard nodded, satisfied,

“That should keep out any further, unwanted guests.”  She said as Oakrose gave her a concerned look. The older Woodling shrugged and went back to work while Selene joined the others. After a few moments a dwarf with a wood-brown beard and blue(?) eyes bustled into the room. He seemed relieved to see who had shown up,

“Ta fer gettin’ rid of’ those idiots out there.” He said giving everyone a grateful smile, “ I wis off a mind tae ask the Council what the bloody hells they were playin’ at an’ getting’ help from the Druids.” Selene shook her head,

“You honestly didn’t think I would leave you to deal with those hooligans yourself, Egrim?” she asked. The dwarf waved his hand,

“Ach! I ken you would’t Sel, ye’re pretty much the only one on tha bloody thing that's no’ a backstabbing–” Elowyn held up her hand,

“Ok I think we get the idea Abouna.” She chuckled, “The ‘idiots’ as you call them, have all been arrested on various charges so they shouldn’t be bothering you again.” Egrim snorted derisively,

“Until they’re all released again in a week, tops.” He retorted. He shook his head upon seeing the expression on Elowyn’s face at his comment, “Dinna get me wrong, child, but I’m no’ blind nor deaf. Aside from myself, yon wee cleric friend an’ a handfull o’ Slayers, there’s no one else left this side o’ Fangthane.” He pointed out. Elowyn’s face fell,

“If I can get enough evidence…” She said desperately. The dwarf sighed heavily,

“Elowyn, lass, I ken ye’re tryin’ yer best, but ye’re only one of a very few that actually care about this.” He nodded to Farren, who was making up a fresh rollie. The human shrugged,

“Hate to break it to you kid, but ours is the only Watchhouse that was still going anywhere near the Dwarven district.” He lit the cigarette and took a drag, “I think the Council are pretty much just looking the other way until it all ‘blows over’, especially since we’ll be under siege by a massive horde of undead in about a day or so.” Egrim barked out a humourless laugh,

“’Blows over’ he says. Bah!” the dwarf went over to a nearby ale cask, drew himself a tankard, checked the contents and took a swig, “Given what happened last night, they’ll be lucky if they’re no’ fightin’ a fresh war immediately after this.” Elowyn’s eyes went wide and looked between the Abouna and Selene,

“But why would they do something like that?” she asked plaintively. Selene sighed heavily,

“Mostly because the whole city has likely been placed on the Fangthane Book of Grudges, Elowyn.” She explained, “From what Edwin told me the last time I contacted him, the Low King is under a lot of pressure from the displaced dwarves that are now living there to get some kind of retribution for the people that have lost their homes, livelihoods and even family members.” Elwoyn shook her head,

“But Starhammer wasn’t even killed by this Brotherhood of the Cleave. They were still outside and waiting when Merri came out of the temple.” She protested. That earned her a confused look from the Abouna, who paused while taking another swig of ale,

“Wait, what?” he asked, putting his tankard down, “So if those bastards weren’t responsible, who was?” Enezeage snorted,

“From what Meredith told us last night, it looks like it was that Grinbeard guy.”

“Grimebeard? Garl Grimebeard?” the dwarf asked, looking between the rest of Elowyn’s group. Elowyn nodded,

“Yeah, turns out he had forsaken Moradin and was poisoning people with Oozes disguised as beer. I thought we took care of him?” she asked looking over to Felix and Enezeage. Felix shook his head slowly,

“No, it was one of the other members of his family, remember?” he replied, “The others had long gone by the time we took care of the Clay Golem created out of that poor gnome and the Oozes in the cauldrons.” Both Elowyn and Egrim looked like they were going to be sick,

“We never got around to trying to find the rest of them.” Elowyn muttered, “I honestly thought it was Garl we took care of and the rest just scarpered.” She buried her head in her hands. Selene looked over to Egrim with worry,

“What’s the matter, Egrim?” she asked. The dwarf sat down heavily,

“I’ve been in contact with Fangthane a lot recently, fer obvious reasons. I wis wonderin’ aboot tha rumours goin’ about around some folk goin’ missing’ recently. I don’t think the activities of ol’ Grimebeard has been limited tae Toreguard.”

“You think he might be responsible for the disappearances?” Selene asked. The Abouna nodded,

“Ragnarsson mentioned somethin’ about finding some bad beer in the Cathedral’s cellar. I didn't think anything’ of it at first, even dwarven beer goes bad if it’s kept long enough, but…”

“They’re trying to get rid of every Moradin worshipper they can.” Selene muttered, “But why?” the wizard looked up at her old friend, “We need to get word to Fangthane about this, now.” She said firmly, “

“There might be a problem with that, lovies.” Oakrose said as she came into the refectory, handing Egrim a scroll. The Dwarf unrolled it and quickly read through it. He crumpled the parchment not long after,

“Bollocks tae that.” He swore, tossing the balled up parchment to the floor. Selene sighed,

“Let me guess, all communications out of the city have been forbidden, including all scrying and other magical means?” she asked lightly. Elowyn groaned as the dwarf nodded with a weary sigh,

“An’ afore ye ask, I rather think they’ll include familiars as magical objects.” Selene snorted,

“I’m well aware of that Egrim.” She snipped, “Luckily, if there’s one thing Alexis did manage to teach me in the time I travelled with her, it’s to never just rely on one or two methods of communication. That and to never kowtow to a giant red lizard who thinks he’s smarter than you.” She added. Elowyn frowned in confusion,

“What are you going to do?” she asked nervously. The Wizard honestly scared her sometimes. Selene sent the Woodling a reassuring smile,

“Just going to visit an old friend to ask for a bit of help.” She said, “But first, I think I’d better go and fetch your cleric. She’ll be safer here.”

~*~

Much, much later

Darkhide laughed maniacally even as the last of his life seeped from him,

“You’re too late.” he coughed wetly, spraying blood, “The portal is open, the way is clear. A– and you have no God Clay to– to save you.” He chuckled, his throat gargling. Elowyn dropped to her knees, despair written all over her features. Enezeage had bowed his head and placed his hands in his sleeves, while Felix cried out in anger and anguish. Quintin closed his eyes and prayed silently to Correlon Lorethion for a swift death. Meredith, however, struggled to her feet,

“No.” she growled, wincing from the beating Darkhide had given her earlier, “I am not admitting any sort of defeat to you.” She spat, glaring at the Necromancer. Darkhide grinned darkly,

“Do I need… to remind you girl? Moradin… is dead.” He said, now gasping for air. Meredith snorted, looking over at the giant rend in the earth in front of the group.

“I heard ye the first time, ye bag o’ wind.” She said flatly, “But ye never said anything’ about Throff.” She added, glancing back at the dying human. Darkhide frowned momentarily, then his eyes widened,

“No.” he croaked, his last breath finally leaving him as he attempted to reach out towards Meredith, who was staggering over to the portal’s edge. Elowyn jumped to her feet,

“Merri? What are you doing?” the Paladin yelped, racing up next to the dwarf. Meredith looked down at the chasm with a determined expression,

“Finishing’ this.” She replied. She looked up at Elowyn, “Take the others, and run.” She commanded, “If this doesn’t work, ye’ll need tae evacuate as many people as ye can from the Plains.” Elowyn frowned and shook her head quickly,

“But what about you?” she asked. Meredith sighed and glanced back at the chasm,

“That doesn’t matter.” She said quietly, she looked back up at the Woodling sharply, “Now get goin’!” she snapped, a ripple of power washing over Elowyn. The Paladin tried to resist, but found herself unable to. She glared back at the dwarf, even as her feet took her away, tears stinging in her eyes. Meredith watched her friends leave, guilt tearing at her heart,

“I’m sorry.” She muttered, “But this is my burden to bear.” The Inquisitor turned back to the portal, took a deep breath and knelt. She took a moment and then began to cast,

“Throff, gentle Mother of my people, know that I do not make this request of You lightly. I am fully aware of the cost involved and I will pay it.” She prayed, gathering up as much power as she could muster, “Please, grant me the strength to close this abomination, to heal this world that has been wounded so badly already.” She begged, tears stinging her eyes. After a moment, Meredith felt the earth beneath her ripple slightly. She smiled softly; there may not have been any spare God Clay left, but wasn’t Titan made of the stuff? The Dwarf closed her eyes tightly, pushing yet more power into the spell, feeling it drain her very soul as the earth finally began to move, closing the portal to the Abyss. Demons, who had been making their way up from the bottom of the Pit, screeched as slowly, their means of escape closed in around them. They pushed back and the spell wavered.

Meredith was almost completely tapped out, black spots obscured her vision as she felt the resistance,

“No,” she breathed, “I–I am not letting…” her breathing became shallower as she tried to push yet more power into the Shaping spell. It was then she felt a gentle brush on her shoulder. She blinked back the blackness creeping into her vision and looked in the direction the touch had come from. Stringwhiskers, limned in a golden light, twitched his nose at her,

“We know what you doing.” He squeaked, “We come to help.”

“You got this Merri, keep going.” Alphonse’s voice encouraged from somewhere behind her. Looking around at the faces of her deceased friends and travelling companions, Meredith nodded and glared at the portal, which was slowly pushing back open. Gathering up what little strength she had left, the dwarf pushed it all into the spell. The earth rumbled violently as the two opposing forces clashed, but finally, with a deafening ‘boom!’ the portal snapped shut. The hand of a Balor that had been unlucky enough to get in the way, wavered then disintegrated into dust on the wind as everything finally settled. A weak ray of sunlight lit up the ground where the portal had been and a bird flew over and perched on the out of place hammer that glinted as the clouds above Castle Dire finally broke.

When the Command spell finally wore off Elowyn and the others, they were most of the way along the road to Toreguard. Almost immediately, the Woodling spun around and began marching back up the road towards Castle Dire,

“When I get a hold of that girl, she is getting the earbashing of the century!” she snarled. Felix tugged on her arm nervously,

“What was Merri even doing?” he asked. Elowyn shook her head,

“The stupid woman’s probably trying to close the portal by herself.” She replied. Enezeage strode in front of the Woodling,

“Then maybe, it’s a good idea to do what we were told?” he suggested. Elowyn was about to give the Monk a scathing reply, when the earth under their feet rumbled. Felix squeaked and grabbed a hold of Quintin’s leg. The Elf staggered a little at the sudden gesture, but was quick to find his footing again. Enezeage grabbed a hold of Elowyn’s arm as the Paladin fell back with the sudden movement, a large, squat sea of calm amidst the chaos. Felix looked around in awe as the tremor ceased,

“Whoa, someone’s either being really stupid or really brave to try casting this big a spell.” He said, his eyes wide. Elowyn frowned and checked to see if there was anyone evil nearby that was attempting to cast something new. The only hint of red she found though, was a brilliant glow up where the portal had been opened.

“OK, ow. Remember that big ass portals to the Abyss don’t need to be checked for Evil.” She muttered as she blinked her vision back. Felix shook his head,

“It’s not an arcane spell.” He called as another, larger rumble shook the road beneath them. He waited until the new tremor had passed before continuing as he studied the lines of power only he could see, “I think… yeah, it’s Divine Magic. It’s all white and gold.” Elowyn paled and looked up towards Castle Dire,

“Merri, what are you playing at?” she whispered. Aurianna mewled from her perch on the Paladin’s shoulder,

“I think she’s trying to use a Shape spell to close the portal.” She said quietly. Elowyn frowned,

“How? There’s no God Clay left, right?” she asked, now beginning to panic. Enezeage hummed as he realised something,

“That’s true,” he rumbled, “but what did Titan make the world out of?” he asked. Elowyn’s eyes went wide as an even bigger tremor rumbled through the earth, causing everyone to lose their footing. Once it was over, a massive ‘Boom!’ rent the air then… the earth stilled. The group looked at one another questioningly as they got up. After no further tremors came along, Elowyn rushed up the road as fast as her legs could carry her, at least until Enezeage hoisted her onto his shoulder and ran the rest of the way for her.

Once they reached the top, the group looked around in shock. Darkhide’s body was still pretty much exactly where it had been left, as had the bodies of the other Cabal members and the undead. There was, however, no sign of the portal. Or of Meredith. Elowyn was let down as Enezeage looked around in confused awe,

“MERRI!” Elowyn called desperately. She ran around the grounds of Castle Dire, looking for any sign of her old friend, “MEREDITH!” She ran around the rest of the huge courtyard, “Meredith Gruksdottir, you get your ass over here right now!” There was no reply, aside from the croaking of the ravens that had come along to feast on the dead. Quintin quickly came around the corner,

“Elo, I think you need to come have a look at this.” He called. The elf looked confused and upset. Elowyn rushed over to him,

“What’s going on?” she asked. The Ranger held out an elaborate mace. It was made of the best Iron and etched all over with Dwarven Runes. Meredith’s warmace. Elowyn reached out to touch it, but quickly withdrew her hand,

“Where did you find this?” she asked sharply. Quintin turned around and nodded to the courtyard behind him,

“Next to the edge of where the portal should have been.” He replied heavily, “We’ve looked everywhere in the area. There’s no sign of her besides this.” Elowyn glared at the elf,

“There has to be!” she snapped, her voice tight with emotion as she ran over to where the portal had been less than an hour before. Quintin sighed and followed the Woodling at a more sedate pace, tickling a raven that had landed on his shoulder under its beak.

Elowyn reached the knoll where the portal had not long before torn a hole through reality to the Abyss and looked around desperately, tears streaming down her face. The rest of her party finally arrived in the area, looking as lost and confused as the Woodling felt. She looked at each other them, still hoping there was something, anything else. Slowly they shook their heads. Cragspine approached the Woodling, who was now hugging her knees into her chest and sobbing. He gently touched the Paladin’s hand,

“Meredith might not be here, but portal is gone.” He said in a low voice, “This place saturated with Divine Magic, she obviously successful.” He pointed out. Elowyn really didn’t take too much comfort in the little Kobold’s words. The Dwarf, despite some of her faults, had managed to more or less survive their entire journey and had been a welcome, steady presence when everything had, as they often said to one another, ‘turned to shit’.

“It’s not fair.” She sniffled, “Why did all the big stuff have to fall on just her?” Cragspine shook his head,

“The Gods are fickle.” He reminded her, “Come, we go tell big human peoples news.” He said gently, tugging on the sleeve of the Woodling’s overcoat. Elowyn lifted her head and slowly shook her head,

“You guys go on ahead, I need a minute.” Cragspine looked back at Enezeage with a questioning expression. The Half-Orc nodded and shooed everyone else back to the road to Toreguard. The Monk turned to Elowyn,

“Don’t be too long.” He rumbled. Elowyn nodded as he turned around and followed the others. When she was finally alone, Elowyn knelt on the grass and prayed,

“I hope you managed to find wherever it was you wanted to go.” She said, fresh tears making their way down her cheeks, “You really do have a bad habit of wanting to outdo yourself though, don’t you?” she laughed, “I will personally make sure that what you managed to accomplish today is properly recognised though. Maybe once word gets out about it, people back home will stop being such dicks to Dwarves again.” She looked at her hands, which were balled up on her knees, “I’m going to really miss you. I mean, it’s no fun being the only girl with a bunch of men and who am I going to complain about Gorgeous with now?” The Paladin sighed heavily, “Sleep well, Sister. Hope you’re waiting with a mug of decent beer by the time I join you up there.”  She said with a faint smile. The Woodling pulled herself to her feet and looked up at the sky above her, saluted and finally left.

~*~

Even though it was well after dark by the time Elowyn and what remained of her party got back to Toreguard, General Strucker was waiting at the gates for them,

“Did you manage to stop him?” he asked, clearly nervous about the answer he was about to receive. Enezeage, who had picked up Darkhide’s body on his way back, dropped it at the General’s feet,

“There’s the evidence.” He grunted. The General slowly grinned at the sight,

“So it’s over.” He breathed, “At last.” He gestured for one of the guards with him to take the body, “Get that to the Wizard’s Tower, no doubt they’ll want to make sure that there’s no chance of him being resurrected or have any other means of coming back.” He ordered. Two of the guards saluted, picked up the body and carted it off immediately. The General frowned as he looked the group over, “Hang on a minute, what happened to your Dwarf friend?” he asked. Elowyn stepped forward, Meredith’s mace in her hands,

“She fell closing a new portal to the Abyss that Darkhide managed to open before he died.” She said quietly, “If it’s all the same to you, General, I’d rather explain the situation in front of people who know more about magic than I do.” She requested. The General’s face fell as he regarded the beautiful weapon and nodded,

“Indeed. Come, I’ll arrange for a full Wizard’s council in the main Council Chambers for you. Grand Magus Frigidwake is something of a night owl these days and I’ve no doubt she’ll want to know exactly what happened.” He said. Felix coughed, getting the man’s attention,

“You might want to call on some of the religious leaders as well.” The gnome said, “Meredith was, after all, a cleric of Moradin.” The General nodded again,

“Duly noted, Master Gnome, I shall take note of that. But enough, I rather think you all deserve a bit of rest before you get bombarded from all sides with questions.” He said rather more gently, “We’ve arranged for you to stay in the Plot Hook overnight so that you can have a bit of a lie in.” Everyone nodded tiredly, following the General to a rather large and luxurious carriage and piling inside. By the time Orock showed them all to their rooms, they were all already mostly asleep and dead to the world by the time their heads hit their pillows.

~*~

Elowyn found herself feeling oddly calm as she waited outside the main council chambers the next morning. Perhaps, she thought, it was the absence of the Merchant’s Guild, or maybe it was because she had a decent night’s sleep for the first time in what seemed like forever. No matter what the reason, she walked confidently into the large chamber, alongside her friends, who also seemed far more at ease. Selene smiled at the group warmly as she took her seat at the head of the chamber and waited for the rest of the Wizard’s Council and Toreguard’s Religious Council to sit. This done, she leaned forward in her chair,

“Elowyn O’Toreguard, Paladin of the Light and Sergeant of Watchhouse 8, Northwest Precinct, can you please explain to the council what, exactly, transpired at Castle Dire yesterday morning and afternoon?” she asked calmly. The Woodling nodded and stepped forward, telling the combined Head Wizards and Religious leaders of the fight with Darkhide and the rest of the Cabal, of Darkhide’s apparent defeat then his opening of a new portal to the Abyss that was made permanent with the sacrifice of what seemed to be the population of a nearby village. She then went on to explain how, despite being beaten bloody and almost to death earlier, Meredith, Inquisitor of Moradin, had refused to admit defeat and sent the rest of her party away.

“We’re not sure what she did,” Elowyn said, her throat tightening at the memory, “but whatever it was, she managed to completely and utterly seal the portal. The only thing we could find of her when we returned to Castle Dire, was her warmace.” She finished, gesturing to the item, which had been placed on a plush cushion on a table near the front of the room. The Head Priest of Pellor stood and regarded the mace with a curious expression,

“I must admit, my fellows and I felt a very large pull of Divine Magic just before the earthquakes started.” He said, looking around at his fellow High Priests, who were all nodding, “How this single cleric accomplished such a thing is… well none of us have been able to work it out.” He admitted, “Normally a large ritual has to be involved to pull such a large amount of magic into a single area.”

“Perhaps I can help with your query.” A voice quavered from behind Elowyn. She frowned as Selene’s eyes went wide and the Wizard stood with a hasty, deep bow. She looked over her shoulder to find a very elderly dwarf come into the room, escorted by several beardlings and leaning heavily on an elaborate metalwork staff. Elowyn bowed deeply as well, though noting with worry that the old dwarf appeared to be quite unwell.

“Archlector Vanskleig, it is a real honour to have you visit us.” Selene said, her tone worried as, she too, noted that the old dwarf was clearly unfit to have travelled such a long distance, “Someone get him a seat!” she snapped as she hurried down from her position to assist the beardlings in helping him to a chair that was conjoured by a junior wizard. The elderly dwarf smiled warmly at the Wizard as she knelt in front of him,

“Do you require anything, Archlector, a drink of water perhaps?” she asked Vanskleig shook his head,

“No, child. I am here to find out what happened yesterday.” He replied evenly, “I am afraid I do not travel well using portals.” He added. Selene nodded and stepped back, looking over to Elowyn,

“Elowyn, dear, can you quickly summarise what happened at Castle Dire again?” she asked. Elowyn, despite how soul sick she felt to recall the events again, nodded,

“Of course, Grand Magus.” She replied. Taking a moment to centre herself again before repeating what she had told the Council. Once she was done, the Archlector nodded,

“You recall that Meredith was a Shaper, correct?” he asked. Elowyn thought back to when the group had visited Fangthane the first time and nodded,

“Yes, Your Holiness, I do.” She replied, “However, I do not see how that would have helped matters.” She admitted. Vanskleig smiled, his grey eyes twinkling,

“Ah, but it does help. Quite a lot actually.” He replied with a weary chuckle. He looked around the rest of the Council, “The ability to Shape is a rare one.” He said, “It only occurs once in every three or four Dwarven generations, and has only ever been found in one family line.” He explained, “Few know of the Redhammer Clan, but when they were exiled from Fangthane we believed the ability to Shape had been lost to the worshippers of Moradin and Throff forever.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, “That is, until young Meredith Gruksdottir displayed the ability; at a very young age as I recall.” He shook his head, “The gift of Shaping is a blessing from Throff, She who found the Magic Clay. It would seem that when the portal to the Abyss was opened, Meredith realised that the only way to close it permanently was using what had since become known as God Clay.” He explained. Selene shook her head as several voices piped up,

“Wasn’t it used to seal up the portal under the Wizard’s Tower?”

“I didn’t think there was any of it left.”

“Where would you even get the stuff from anyway.”

The Grand Magus sighed and slammed her staff on the floor,

“If you must ask questions, do so one at a time!” she snapped, “I should not need to remind any of you about good manners!” The High Priests and Wizards who had stood up to ask their questions all at once sat back down, looking suitably embarrassed with themselves. Selene turned back to the Archlector, who was chuckling,

“Ah, now that’s the young Wizard I remember hearing about ten years ago, I did wonder what had happened to her.” He noted with a warm, grandfatherly smile. Selene bit back an embarrassed laugh as the Archlector proceeded to look around the Council Chamber again,

“As to your questions. Yes, there is no more spare God Clay that we know of, however is not Titan made of the stuff?” he asked. Before anyone could answer, he was talking again, “From what has been described, it would seem that Throff, upon seeing the calamity that was unfolding, granted young Meredith a chance to use Titan itself to seal this new portal.” The Archlector sighed heavily, “Of course, such a casting requires a significant cost.” He looked over to the mace at the far end of the room, suddenly seeming so much older than he already was, “Clearly young Gruksdottir felt that the price asked was worth the safety of Allansia, if not all of Titan.” He said, his voice low and heavy with grief. Silence reigned as the enormity of what had actually happened settled on the rest of the Chamber. That one lone dwarf had sacrificed everything to prevent a disaster worse than had occurred ten years ago from happening again was, clearly, quite a lot to take in. Selene nodded gravely,

“Thank you, Archlector. It looks like we all have rather a lot to reflect upon. Especially given the behaviour of some of the city’s people towards the Dwarven people as of late.” She stood and regarded her fellows, “I think it would be best if we took a recess for the next four hours. When we get back, we will discuss what needs to be done to properly celebrate and honour those who have already given this city so much.” She glanced over to Elowyn and the others as she spoke, striking her oaken staff on the floor and sweeping out of the room. Elowyn ignored the mumble of conversation going on as she approached the Archlector and knelt before him,

“Your Grace, I have a couple of questions if I may.” She said quietly, Aurianna quickly scampering up beside her. The Archlector regarded the Paladin and nodded, waving off his beardling assistants,

“I’ll be alright, I will call when we are done.” He assured them gently. The eldest of them bowed politely and ushered the other outside, knowing that this was a private matter. Elowyn smiled gratefully to the old dwarf,

“Thank you.” She said. Vanskleig motioned for her to sit,

“It is no trouble, child. You are clearly worried about something and wish for guidance. I would be a poor cleric to ignore such a request.” He assured her. Elowyn shifted uncomfortably,

“Darkhide said during the fight against him that… he said Moradin was dead.” She said, trying not to avoid the subject, “I assumed he was merely trying to scare Meredith, but before we left the city, she mentioned that she had not been able to reach Him.” She looked up at the Archlector with worry, “Was Darkhide telling the truth? I thought Moradin had merely forsaken Toreguard following Starhammer’s untimely death.” Vanskleig sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully,

“As a friend of Meredith, I feel safe in letting you know what has happened.” He said, “However, this information is to go no further than us unless it becomes something that needs to be dealt with.” He told her firmly. Elowyn nodded, hugging her knees to her chest by now,

“You have my word Archlector.” She said. The elderly dwarf nodded, satisfied,

“The Dwarven people are currently in crisis, my dear.” He explained, “There is much upheaval occurring at the moment both in Fangthane, and until recently, here in Toreguard. As a result of what has happened here of late, Moradin’s followers have become… unsure of themselves and their faith is wavering. As a result, Moradin is less powerful than He would normally be and is attempting to consolidate Himself.” Vanskleig sighed, “My faith in the Dwarf Father is as strong as ever, my dear, however, I am old and while I have a replacement, I worry for my people following my passing.” Elowyn nodded,

“That’s– That’s some heavy stuff. But I am glad to know that Moradin still exists. It eases my heart just a little.” The Archlector smiled,

“You cared very deeply for her, that much is clear.” He said in a low voice, “When I return to Fangthane, I will ensure that young Meredith is properly remembered by all under the mountain. While she passed far, far too young, she was devoted not just to Moradin, but to her people and her world. Take strength in the knowledge that you knew Meredith for who she truly was, not the legend she will obviously become.” He advised. Elowyn nodded, wiping at her eyes as they welled up again,

“Thank you Archlector, I will.” She replied, getting up and bowing, even as the Archlector called for his assistants.

~*~

Later:

“I ‘eard a little about what happened.” Mrs Higgins said quietly once everyone else had left the kitchen, leaving the Woodling alone with her thoughts. Elowyn looked up at the house’s matron,

“I think the news has made its way most of the way around the city by now.” She said with a weak chuckle. The old human fished out an envelope from the pocket in the front of her pinnie,

“Miss Meredith left this with me before you left to go to Castle Dire.” She said quietly, “Said I should give it you when you got back.” Elowyn took the envelope, her hands shaking slightly as she regarded the firm, almost runic strokes of her old friend’s handwriting. The Woodling nodded to Mrs Higgins,

“Thank you, can you go and fetch me a pot of tea? I think I’ll probably need it after reading this.” She asked in a small voice. The maid nodded in sympathy,

“I’ll go fetch a small pot of brandy to go with as well, dear.” She said, bobbing in a curtsey, before bustling off to the other end of the large kitchen. Elowyn stared at the unopened envelope for several long moments, both longing to read the letter inside, and not yet willing to acknowledge that the dwarf was never coming back. Finally, she broke the wax seal on the back and took out the parchment inside:

Dearest Elowyn,

If you have received this letter, then that means the inevitable has happened. Whatever form this has taken, know that I do not want you, or any of the others, to blame yourselves. When Moradin comes calling, I kind of have to answer Him, right? I wanted to let you know just how much the time we have managed to spend with one another has meant to me.

I know that you love your city and pray to Moradin and Throff both that, once time has had a chance to dull the wounds left behind by this most recent conflict, that our people can live in peace with one another again. I trust that Justice will be done for the atrocities that have been committed, and know that, somehow, you’ll be right there in the middle of it. Please never lose sight of that goal, for I know that it might be the only thing that you have left to cling to when the shadows gather and fate feels like it’s ripped everything and everyone out from under your feet. I tell you this as a reminder. In these last days before we finally face Darkhide, the Light that you have brought into my life has been the only thing keeping me going when I truly believed that I had lost everything.

Even though we have had our differences in opinion, know that I have ever seen you as a Sister and, therefore regard you as kin. No matter the challenges that lay ahead of you, know that I am proud to have stood by your side as you grew from a simple Officer of the Watch into a Paladin that has learned the hard way how to lead and inspire others. Even as both of our peoples face dark and uncertain futures I know that you will be there to help light the way to a better future for all.

Should you ever have need to pass through the lands around Fangthane in your travels, please take the enclosed with you.  It will identify you as a close and trusted friend of the Dwarven people and ought to keep you and your travelling companions safe despite the Grudge that will likely be in place by now.

Stay safe òrdugh piuthar and while I hope to meet you again when you finally pass to this next life, I hope it is a very long time coming.

May the rocks stay ever true under your feet,

Meredith, Daughter of Gruk, Son of Ovak

Inquisitor of Moradin 13th level

The sheafs of parchment shook and drops of water splotched the ink as Elowyn finished reading through the letter. Meredith had clearly known that it was unlikely that she would survive the fight against Darkhide. The Woodling frowned through her tears as she realised that there was something else still in the envelope. She gingerly shook whatever it was out onto the table, her heart breaking even further than she ever thought possible as she regarded the item. It was a simple Mythril necklace with a finely crafted dwarven Warhammer attached to it. Both were covered in intricate dwarven runes. Meredith’s Holy Symbol. Elowyn had seen the dwarf use it often enough to Turn the undead to recognise it immediately.

[blueeyedgrlwrites]

Alright kids. I spent 24 straight hours watching RWRB on loop (not kidding). And the only reason it wasn't more was because my dog decided to lay on the remote and turn the TV off late last night. She got glared at rather harshly for all of 3 seconds before my rational brain kicked in and told me, "Yes, Meg, you do actually need to sleep. You are closer to 40 than 20."

So with that, as I once again rewatch the RWRB movie, let's have some thoughts on book to movie adaptations from a fandom grandma, shall we?

First, Casey's book is beloved by so many and for all the right reasons. They gave us an iconically beautiful and unapologetic queer love story with characters that you love, get frustrated with, laugh both at and with, cheer for, and roll your eyes at as they stumble around figuring out this whole queer-in-the-public-eye thing and I don't care who you are, I'd imagine that's going to be tough for any public figure at any age.

Casey also gives us fleshed out and sometimes interwoven storylines with June, Nora, Pez, Luna, Bea, et al. Because writing allows for that to develop. There's no time or page limit on a book. The only limit to the book is the writer's imagination. It's an artistic medium that allows for more intricacies and interactions between the various characters (looking at Alex and Ellen and the PowerPoint, and Alex and Bea and "I love him on purpose").

I loved the book first, and I will continue to love the book above all else.

But book to movie adaptations are never going to be the same. They simply can't be the same. They have a finite amount of time to fill. They can't develop intricate storylines, which is why we see no June, no Luna, little of Percy, Alex's parents being married instead of divorced, nothing on Bea's addiction, and why we have little bastards like Miguel to still fill the main event that brings both Alex and Henry out into the public as their true, authentic selves.

The best book to movie adaptations are those that stay true to the plot. It's going to be faster paced because there's 2-2.5 hours in which to tell the story and all the main events have to be hit in that time. It's why we see the texting montage, and why the emails are done via voice over.

They honor the characters by not only keeping them as they are in the books, but in doing right by them as well. That includes casting the right people, and Taylor and Nick were far and away the best Alex and Henry.

Any creator who has ever created anything based on a book, movie, TV series, video game, etc. knows that when you take something that is already out there, you put your vision to the story. And that's what Matthew did with the movie. He made it his love letter to Henry and Alex, and Henry and Alex only. And while he surely had input from Casey, ultimately it was his vision that had to be realized in the movie.

Movie adaptations can also give you some wonderful added moments. And here we get to see Henry's struggle as well as Alex's. Because movies can be told from different points of view, even if the source material isn't. Ellen's powerpoint wasn't included, but it was referenced and that is just as important.

So many moments, from Alex and Henry's first kiss, to the conversation with Alex's dad, to Henry's soliloquy to Alex in the middle of the night at KP are still pulled word-for-word straight from the book.

We may not have "I love him on purpose." But we do have, "I'll break the sound barrier for you."

We don't get "Your Song" but we do get "Can't Help Falling in Love" and both are equally appropriate for what Alex and Henry have.

We get to keep, "history huh? Bet we could make some."

And we get to see Henry fight for himself and question why the established norms of a 21st century monarchy need to continue the way they've always been, rather than have his mum swoop in and save the day. And that is fucking brilliant character growth my friends.

No movie is ever going to be a scene by scene rehash of a book, no matter how beloved it is, and no matter how enthusiastically all of us shout that we would absolutely sit for a 10 hour movie of every little thing TYVM. But as long as it is there to be an ode to the original, to compliment it, then that's all you can ask for. And it's all you should ask for.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Devil May Care: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Summary: Castiel is missing after you told him to go to the Bunker after the angels fell. However, that is put on hold when Abaddon calls with two hostages that you now need to save.

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

x

Instead of heading straight to the Bunker, Dean parked on the side of the road next to some outdoor picnic area. Sam's curious as to what's been happening since the fall, so you've told him everything minus the angel that's locked inside of him.

Dean is laying flat on top of the wooden table, and Joanna is climbing all over him like she's at a jungle gym. Mary's having some trouble crawling, but you're right next to her so she doesn't fall off the table.

"Joanna, be careful."

"Daddy is strong. He can take it," she says casually.

You and Dean laugh at this, and he tickles her side until she is crying with laughter.

"So, Cas is human?" Sam asks.

"Ish," Dean says, holding onto Joanna and sitting up so she is now in his lap. "I mean, he doesn't have any grace, no wings, no harp, and whatever the hell else he had."

"Okay. Where'd he crash-land?"

"He called us from a payphone from Longmont, Colorado. We told him to head to the Bunker."

"You think he can handle a road trip like that?"

"Cas is a big boy. If things go sideways, he has our number. Right now, we have bigger worries."

"Like the fallen angels."

Dean meant about Ezekiel, first, but he doesn't make a move to show his true feelings.

"Right. Thanks to Metatron, we now have a couple of thousand confused loose nukes walking around down here."

"What do you think they're gonna do?"

"We have no damn idea," you sigh.

"What about Crowley? Did you kill him?"

"I would've loved nothing better than to ice that fucking bitch. Then I thought to myself, what would Sam Winchester do?" Dean says bitterly.

"I'd've stabbed him in the brain."

"Well, I figured the King of Hell might know a few things, so why not keep his ass alive for the time being?"

"He's alive?" Sam asks, shocked.

You pick Mary up and follow Dean over to the car, to which Dean unlocks the trunk. Inside is Crowley, handcuffed, gagged, and unable to get out because of the warding. Dean painted a devil's trap underneath the roof to keep him from smoking out.

"Yeah, he's our bitch now," you grin.

"Yeah, bitch," Joanna says.

"Joanna!" you laugh, and Dean covers her mouth immediately. Crowley rolls his eyes at the sass she gives him, and Dean closes and locks the trunk. "We should really watch what we say around her."

By the time you get back to the Bunker, you're disappointed that Castiel isn't here. He either got lost, got captured by the many different angels after him, or found someone else to help. Either way, he's not here. The only person who you left behind in the Bunker is Kevin, and you're not sure what you'll be walking into.

Some of the lights are on, but as soon as you walk in, someone sets off the first trap. An arrow whizzes straight at you, but you use your magic to catch it before it can hit anyone. You look below to see Kevin with an automatic crossbow in his hands. You can't see much from your vantage point, but you can see that he's overturned the library tables to make some sort of barrier to protect him. He also took the books and stacked them all around him so nothing could get him.

"Easy there, Katniss," you say and walk down the metal stairs with Dean.

"Dean? Y/N? You're alive!" Kevin laughs.

"Had that hit me, not for long."

"Sorry, it's been a bad couple of days. I haven't slept or eaten, and I'm pretty backed up."

"Okay, TMI," Dean shakes his head.

"After we talked, this place went nuts, alright? There was some alarm, all the machines were freaking out, and the bunker just locked down! I couldn't open the door, my cell phone stopped working, and I thought the world was ending!"

"Close. The angels fell from Heaven."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing good," Dean answers, and takes the crossbow from Kevin. "Listen, next time the world's ending, grab a gun." He takes out his cell phone to check if he has service. "I have service."

Kevin flips some switches on the control panel in the war room. All the lights turn on, and the machines whir into action.

"It's back online. Maybe when you opened the door from the outside, it reset the system."

"Yeah, let's go with that. Clean this all up," you say regarding the mess.

Sam enters the Bunker from above with Crowley next to him, and the demon has a bag over his head so he doesn't see where the Bunker is or what's inside. As soon as Kevin sees him, all he sees is red.

"No," Kevin whispers to himself.

Sam and Dean lead Crowley to the dungeon which is perfect for holding a demon while you put the kids to bed. They've been stuck in a car for almost twenty-four hours, so they need to take a much-needed nap. After that, you leave their room and head to the dungeon where Crowley is now chained to a chair in the center of the big devil's trap on the floor. Crowley takes in his surroundings. The side wall is filled with all kinds of torture implements.

"Homey. Where did you get this fantastic little treehouse?"

"Alright, here's how it's gonna go. You're giving us the name of every demon on Earth, and the people they're possessing," Sam demands.

"Am I? That doesn't sound like me."

"I saw you break down, Crowley. When I was trying to cure you, I knew a part of you was human again, and maybe still is."

"Blah blah, boohoo," Crowley rolls his eyes. "Are you done? Good because this is what I know. I'm not giving you anything. Why would I? You have no leverage, darlings. You're not gonna close the gates of Hell because you didn't. You're not gonna kill me because you haven't. So, what's left?"

"We have a few ideas," Dean smirks.

"Torture. Brilliant. Can't wait to see Sam in stilettos and a leather bustier, really putting the S-A-M into S&M. Honestly, boys. What are you gonna do to me that I don't do to myself just for kicks every Friday night?"

"Rot in Hell. See if we care," you say.

You and the brothers turn and leave the dungeon, closing the doors and locking them. Not like he can get out anyway. You turn off the lights and leave Crowley alone to stew in his feelings. When you get back upstairs, Kevin isn't shy to show his anger.

"What's Crowley doing here?! Why isn't he dead?! Why aren't you stabbing him right now?!"

"Calm down, Kevin," you sigh. "We need him."

"What?!"

"If we can get Crowley to give us the name of every demon he's got topside, we can hunt them down. All of them. He will break. When he does, we'll hold him down while you knife him. Then, we all go out for ice cream and strippers," Dean jokes.

"Just stay away from him, alright?"

Kevin sighs knowing he is outnumbered and unable to get past two heavyset Winchesters and a witch.

"Now what?"

"I gotta make some phone calls. You need to hit the Angel tablet and see if you can find anything on the spell that Metatron used to empty out Heaven," Dean says.

"Yeah, maybe we can reverse it before the God Squad does too much damage," Sam says. "I'll check anything relating to angels and demons and anything with monsters."

"It's going to be a long year," you sigh.

The best thing to do is to get on top of this angel thing, and Dean called every hunter he knew to see if they knew more about the angels falling. Some of them had no clue what was going on, some had information that Dean already knew, and others didn't answer. Dean's on the phone with Irv, a hunter your dad used to work with that he'd tell stories about. You've never met him but you know about him.

"Did you say fallen angels?"

"Yeah, they're monsters with good PR," Dean rolls his eyes. "So, if you run into one, torch his ass with holy oil. Oh, and if they drop a silver sword, grab it. Those pigstickers come in handy."

"Copy that."

"Hey, I know this is weird, but--"

"Weird is what we do," Irv cuts him off. "I remember this case me and Bobby worked up in Saskatoon, and it had these two—"

"Werewolf siamese twins," Dean chuckles.

"He told you about that?"

"Every time he drank Labatt's," you say.

"Yeah, so if you run into any problems, give me a call, okay? The more hunters that know, the better."

"Roger-Dodger."

Sam comes in with his laptop in hand just as Dean hangs up on Irv.

"I found something. Nothing angel related but it's demon related."

"They're all the same thing to me. Tell us in the car."

"Kevin!" you shout. You peek your head into the library where Kevin is cleaning up the books he made a mess of. "You're on kid duty. Can you handle that?"

"Fine," he sighs.

"Great. Thank you. Call me if you have any issues."

After packing up your things, you three head out. All that Sam knows is that a bus that held a few army soldiers and some prisoners was abandoned in a parking lot. The only thing left behind was the prisoners, but they were all dead. The entire area has been marked off with yellow tape, and there are multiple police officers and army personnel present. This is either going to go very well or not at all.

As soon as you step out of the Impala, you cough at the strong scent.

"Oh, God. This place reeks of sulfur," you groan.

"Between the stink, the freak thunderstorms, and every dead cow within three miles, I'll take demons for $1000, please," Dean jokes. A sergeant walks up to you three with an unhappy face. She must not like that you're here. "Hey. Agents Stark, Banner, and Maximoff, FBI. We're here to have a look around."

"Why? This is a military case, not a federal one."

"Well, that's not what our supervisor said," Sam sasses her.

"Is that so? Then maybe he and I oughta have a chat," she says with a bittersweet smile.

You're about to use your magic on her, but Dean is already pulling out his phone. There are a bunch of police and military personnel here, and if one of them sees you using magic, then it's game over for you. Dean quickly dials someone without looking at the Sergeant.

"Hey, boss, uh... we have a little problem here."

"Boss?" Kevin says, confused.

"Yeah, just a local badge needs confirmation we're supposed to be here. About how the word came down from FBI headquarters in DC."

"Wait, what?" Kevin stutters.

Dean has no choice but to hand her the phone, and you wait and see if you'll really need your magic or not. The Sergeant doesn't take her eyes off Dean as she puts the phone to her ear.

"This is Sargent Miranda Bates, who am I talking to?"

"Uh, Kevin... Solo."

"How old are you?"

Uh oh. Kevin better be quick on his feet if he is going to get you access to this crime scene without you stepping in.

"Old enough, and I'm with the FBI so you have to do what I say, or—"

"Listen, kid," Miranda cuts him off, "I don't have to do anything, and I don't take orders from the Feds. So, unless you can give me one good reason you got a few pretty-boy agents poking around my crime scene, I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw, understand?"

Shit.

"Cabo, last June."

"What?" her face pales, and you smirk subtly.

"That's my reason. My favorite is you in a sombrero doing a body shot off some naked guy in a Luchador mask. Super classy."

"How did you find that?"

Classic Kevin to go hacking around in her life.

"Because I'm Kevin fucking Solo. So, unless you want this forwarded to your commanding officer, Major Velasquez... I suggest you give my guys anything they want. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir," she sighs and hands the phone back to Dean.

She looks around awkwardly before leaving your side.

"Kevin? What the hell did you just do?" Dean asks.

"All military computers are linked to the same network."

Dean gives Sam the okay, and both you and Sam leave his side so he can finish his conversation with Kevin.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Getting to know your parents

A little bit about how you go to "take care" of your parents, and Satoru decides to go with you.

~

Parts: 01

Warnings: maybe a little sad, because according to the plot, the reader's parents are dead

~

The kitchen of the school dormitory was quiet.  You were sitting across from Utahime, who was drinking tea and solving a math problem. There was a cup of cocoa in your hands, cookies cooked by your friend were on the plate.

–When are you going to visit them? – the girl asks, distracting herself from the decision and looking at you with a thoughtful look.

–I don't know, – you shrugged, looking at the warm liquid in your mug. – I want to go to them on the weekend, but I don't know if I will have missions these days.

–I see, – Iori nodded to herself. – If you need company, then I'm always here for you.

–Thank you, Utahime-senpai...

–Where are you going without me?!

You sighed, sipping a big sip of cocoa while the frightened Utahime spat tea into Satoru. His barrier, of course, caused all the liquid to drain to the floor, preventing him from touching Gojo's clothes, but the sorcerer still winced.

–What the hell did you forget?! – the girl screamed, putting her cup on the table with such force that the tea flew up and almost spilled out. You are already used to Satoru hanging around the dorm and interfering with you, so his appearance at this hour did not surprise you. Unlike your senpai…

–I greet you from the bottom of my heart, Gojo-sama, – you said without much enthusiasm, starting to nibble cookies.

–Did you know that you have a mistake in the fifth task? – Satoru asked meanwhile, ignoring Utahime's question.

–What makes you think that?!  – she growled at him.

–I counted it. Can you imagine, people know how to use the brain? Although you wouldn't understand it…

–Did you multiply two four-digit numbers in your mind that don't even have zeros at the end?

–Of course. After all, a gorgeous person is gorgeous in everything, – and he tried to throw his bangs back as epically as possible, but Iori prevented him by hitting the barrier with her notebook.

–Damn the calculator in your head! – the girl growled irritably, waving her phone and the application open on it.

–I told you I was the best. No numbers can handle me, – he chuckled, and then turned to you, filling almost the entire table with the upper part of his body. – So where are you going, a, dear bride?

–Wasn't I a "weakling"?

–Did you ever understand sarcasm?

You looked at the smiling Satoru, and then again buried your eyes in your cup.

–Let me at least have a sip of what you're drinking there, – Gojo grabbed your cup, took a sip, and then grimaced. – Who doesn't add sugar to cocoa? Especially if it's cocoa powder! Be-e…

–Obviously, I don't add sugar.

–Listen, Utahime, is there a clean piece of paper? I need to write down that my fiancee needs to be taught not only to understand sarcasm, but also rhetorical questions.

–I'll give you something only when I meet you after death in hell.

–So you're not denying that you are a demon?

–I'm going to visit my parents, – you decided to answer the question anyway. – It will take all day, so I want to go on the weekend.

–Then I'm with you!  – Satoru raised his hands up and smiled childishly.

–Don't you have other things to do, Gojo-sama?

–They'll wait.

You sighed, but didn't say anything. You just continued to drink our cocoa, watching Satoru steal cookies from the plate and infuriate Iori, who just wants to understand how the sorcerer multiplied 4571 by 8941 in his mind.

(Later you find a book with answers to Utahime tests in the store. Well, you weren't surprised).

*+*

–So, it's time to meet my future relatives! How do I look?

–Fine, as always, Gojo-sama.

–Hey, you didn't even look at me!

–You said yourself that you look beautiful regardless of the time of day and season.

Satoru rolled his eyes and stamped his foot a couple of times. The sorcerer put his hands in his pockets and looked around.

–Remind me, why did we come to this store at all? Maybe it's better to buy some dessert, not flowers?

–If I come to them with food, it will look strange.

–Isn't it strange with flowers? Your clan really annoys me a little!

–Then why did you come with me? – you were finally able to choose flowers and take them to the checkout.

–Because I'm bo-o-ored! And I want to know who raised a nerd like you.

You didn't say anything, just paid for the purchase. After leaving the store, you look at the phone screen.

–Who will we go to first: dad or mom?

–Do they live separately? – Satoru raises an eyebrow in surprise. – I thought marriages in sorcerer clans weren't very welcome.

–Let's just say... they had no choice but to be in different places.

–Okay, let's go to your mother then. I'm sure, – he straightened his shirt and chuckled, – she'll like me.

You roll your eyes and walk towards the train station.

After a while, you get out of the car and, using the card in your phone, go ahead. Satoru looks around, not realizing that you and he have forgotten in this area. But here you accelerate your step, and Gojo involuntarily has to start opening his legs stronger.

The sorcerer stops asking you about the place where your mom lives when a high fence appears ahead. Satoru frowns, looking around. There are a lot of curses. She decided to bring me here and kill me? If so, she's even dumber than I thought. If not, then... why are we here? Who arranges family gatherings at the cemetery?!

Gojo whistles, quickly killing curses around as you move further and further away. In the end, you stop and sit down, putting flowers in a small vase, filling it with water bought on the way. Satoru freezes, looking at the name and surname carved in stone. Gojo has never heard this combination, there is not even a word (Y/S). But when he looks at you, he realizes that it's your mom.

–Meet, mom, – you say, as soon as you make sure that the tombstone is clean and looks acceptable, – this is my fiance, Satoru Gojo-sama, – you raise your hand and wave in the direction of the sorcerer. – Yes, he's the one I was handed over to by the clan head, – the wind picked up, causing Gojo's white hair to rise into the air. He looks around, straining, thinking that he is about to see a strong curse. But no one appeared nearby. – Yes, I know you don't like it, – you say, as if nothing had happened. – But you remember what I told you about my situation. At least I didn't become a slave in my own clan.

Satoru is silent, standing motionless figure behind you. You communicate with your mom, tell her the news and say that you hope she will like the flowers you bought.

–Oh, I'm also going to visit the dad today, – a gentle wind blows in your face. – Yes, I will definitely say “hello” from you.

Gojo is silent all the time that you are talking to the grave. He is silent until the train station, until the moment you get on the seat to go further.

–Your parents... were killed by someone? –   Satoru asks, unable to be a stupid idiot who doesn't care about other people's feelings.

–Yes. It was a curse of a special rank, – you say without any emotion, looking out the window. – They just wanted to get married and introduce me to the head of the clan so that I wouldn't be considered an illegitimate child, but they... didn't have time, – you vaguely shrug your shoulders. – Then my mother's sister took care of me, who, after learning that the head of the clan was ready to pay several million for me, sold me and went abroad.

–Have you ever wanted to find her and slap her in the face?"

–What would have changed? Besides... – you swallow a lump in your throat. – As soon as the head of my clan would have found out about the "peculiarities of my blood" – and he would have found out for sure, I don't even doubt it; he has a feel for what brings money – he would still have forced my aunt to return me to the clan so that he could sell me more profitably later. She couldn't hide me even if she wanted to, because she doesn't have any curse energy at all. She's a simple person. 

Satoru nodded without saying anything. He crossed his legs, thoughtfully swinging a heavy boot.

–Did they become curses after death? – in the end, he decided to ask.

–I don't know. They were killed anyway.

–Then what kind of wind was in the cemetery?

–Just the wind. This is an open space, – you looked at Gojo like a fool.

–Then why did he seem to be responding to your words?! And you talked to the grave!

–Just a habit, – you shrug innocently. – Maybe the wind has something to do with my mom, but we'll never know.

–So you decided yourself that your mom wouldn't like me?! – Satoru puffed out his cheeks in resentment.

–I'm sure she wouldn't like you.

–All women are delighted with me!  He threw his head back arrogantly.

–Over thirty?

–Over thirty including!

–In that case, I sincerely feel sorry for you, Gojo-sama, since you attract only women over thirty, – you patted him on the shoulder in a supportive way.

Gojo pinches you painfully in the side.

When the train station is only a few minutes away, Satoru decides to ask you:

–Why were your parents buried separately, hm-m?

–For the same reason that I am considered an illegitimate child. They were not married, so mom did not belong to the clan (Y/S). And this means that she had no right to be buried on the territory of the clan. Come out!

You get up and walk to the door. Gojo follows you in confusion, not quite understanding where to share all the tears, snot and other attributes of such a "meeting" with relatives.

Shouldn't you at least sob once to show how sad you are? Satoru can't even laugh at you when you're in this state! (Does he want to?..) Gojo only follows you like a little sheep found in the forest by a shepherd.

The territory of your clan welcomes you with silence, and the sorcerer next to you immediately comments on how poor you are. You ignore it by walking towards the family cemetery located at the very end. Satoru complains that fallen leaves are lying on the road, but you still continue to ignore him.

But now a gate appears in front, and you easily open it, going to a low building, where you find an urn containing your dad's ashes, and begin to make a wreath of flowers to put it on top of the vessel.

Gojo is hanging out outside, not wanting to stand in the cold. As a result, he enters the room with one foot, throws his jacket right at your head and goes outside. You flinch, almost fall when a heavy object lands on you. Grabbing the shelf, you are glad that the boards are well nailed.

Wearing warm clothes, you continue to weave a wreath in the light of a lit candle. There is no normal light here.

–I didn't expect to meet you here someday, Gojo-sama. I thought you weren't a fan of such abandoned corners as the territory of my clan, – a man comes closer to the sorcerer. He looks around at the closed doors. – Do you choose a better place?

–Something I don't like the competition for higher shelves, – Satoru chuckles, turning to an older, but still lower person. Gojo looks down on him in every possible way. – Yes, and the place you have here is so-so… In short, I'm not going to be buried here.

– In fact, you were not expected, – the man says with the sweetest and most innocent smile, and Satoru frowns. He's not used to this... but he likes it. – I see (Y/N) decided to visit her parents again?  he glances at the doors. I'm surprised you followed her so far.

–I was bored,– Satoru shrugs. – Otherwise, I wouldn't have set foot in your backwater.

–But it's still nice that you decided to visit our forgotten by all the gods clan. Maybe sign on the walls? Maybe people will flock to us to look at your autograph.

Gojo lowers his sunglasses a little to get a better look at the arrogant man. The head of the clan (Y/S) just shakes his head and ignores the younger sorcerer.

–Remind me, who is your father (Y/N)?

–Should I bring the ancestral tree (Y/S)?

–No.

–Then this is the answer to your question. We are too distant relatives for me to know who this dead man is to me.

–I still think that you and (Y/N) definitely have common roots. You both piss me off.

–I'm glad that we have mutual feelings, – the man smiles, wrinkles at the corners of his lips rise up.

The sorcerers look at each other for a while, and then Satoru opens his mouth. The elder sorcerer doesn't let him say anything, saying quickly:

–We do not issue a refund.

–A?

–If you want to give (Y/N) back to the clan (Y/S), it will not work. The contract is signed, the money is transferred, so now she is your problem.

–I think I know who she's the "problem" because of.

–Most likely, the maids did not catch up, – the man innocently flaps his eyes, and then chuckles.

–I'm done, – you finally leave the building to meet the mocking gaze.

–(Y/N), take care of my old body. At least buy me an eye mask, otherwise the next time I see you, I'll throw up. Didn't I tell you not to come here anymore?!

–I didn't think that you would decide to visit your wife today, – you bow slightly, looking at the ground.

–Hey, only I have the right to talk to (Y/N) like that! – Satoru snaps at the man.

–Yes, yes, of course, – the elder sorcerer slaps the heiress of the Gojo clan on the shoulder. – She's your property now, so do whatever you want with her. Okay, bastard, you move out of here before I order you to be forcibly removed.

You were pushed out of the way, and then the man went inside, closing the door. He yelled at you to put out the candle next time if you don't want to get glass between your eyes.

You nod, pretending to listen to him, and walk towards the exit from the territory of a small cemetery. Opening the gate, you simultaneously take off your jacket and hand it to Satoru. Gojo hesitates for a few seconds, and then picks up the clothes and throws them over his shoulder.

–You've been walking around the graves too much without emotion, – says the sorcerer, when you start walking with him towards the city to take the train.

–Would you enjoy the "show" more if I cried and screamed in despair?

–At least it would be more like visiting dead parents.

–I've never even seen them anyway. Why shed tears in vain? Or did I have to do it to make you laugh?

–I'd rather be annoyed. Crying sorcerers are definitely weaklings.

–I'm already a weakling. In that case, do you allow me to cry?

–Pf, you can do whatever you want. You're the bride of Satoru Gojo!

You sigh too loudly for the sorcerer not to be offended.

When you get to the right place, you want to go straight to school, but Gojo grabs you like his child's toy and drags you away to eventually sit in some cafe.

–And what are we doing here? – you ask, looking at the menu brought and the waitress, who, under your gaze, does not even decide to try to flirt with Satoru.

–I'm hungry, so we'll eat.

–Do you pay for me?

–Of course! Where else can I brag about my wealth?

–Then I don't mind eating.

Gojo rolls his eyes and starts choosing dishes. 

You're having a surprisingly quiet "date" with him. Usually Satoru breaks into your personal space at the most inopportune moment – sometimes even during missions – and drags you to eat in the most expensive establishments of the country in what you are wearing at the time of the "theft". (And for some reason you wear either pajamas without even socks, or in a dirty and crumpled school uniform).

Gojo, of course, continues to be an annoying loud idiot. He discusses dishes, complains about traffic jams, says he likes the pigeon in the window. When you offer to catch a bird and roast it, Satoru rises with the look of a maniac, and you have to put a lot of pressure on the shoulders of the sorcerer to make him sit down.

At the last moment, you drop the napkin and pull the Satoru cheek hard. The guy squeals discontentedly, like a little girl, and looks at you with watery eyes, as if you betrayed him. You run your hand over his soft cheek in shock, not understanding where even a single reminder of the stubble has gone.

Satoru laughs at your worried face and continues slurping tea and eating cakes.

You watch with empty eyes as a Gojo with a happy face bites into a poor piece of chocolate cake. Crumbs fall on the plate and remain on his lips. You throw him a napkin, but the sorcerer whines-asks you to wipe his mouth, and you have to do it. 

(I wonder if Gojo will grow a white beard right away?)

–Do you like it? –  the sorcerer asks, giggling, as you continue stroking his cheek. – You can kiss me if you want.

You slap him lightly on the cheek and with slightly reddened cheeks, sit back down in your seat without looking at the cheerful sorcerer.

He offers you a taste of his dessert, and you ask if he's going to put it in his mouth first. Satoru sulks, says he's been discovered. You pretend to be sick, but then Gojo takes your spoon and breaks off a piece of his dessert, handing it to you.

–What's the catch? Has he been on the floor? – are you looking at the cake. – Or did you manage to spit on it?

–I just want my bride to taste a delicious sweet! How can you think that I'm going to do something to you? Ah, I am offended that my fiancee does not trust me!

–I remind you that we have a marriage of convenience.

–Eat, you bore!

You are abruptly thrust into the mouth of a cake, and you thoughtfully chew a delicate dessert. Smiling, you wash it down with tea and quickly nod. Maybe he's not so bad after all?

–Could you taste it? – you nod. – Great! So you should make one the next time I come to the dorm!

–B-but I don't know how to cook! And you come to us almost every day, Gojo-sama!

–And this is already your problem! – he's laughing at you.

You throw a napkin at him and it gets into his mouth. Satoru starts coughing, and you continue to drink tea with a proud look.

(They still demanded a cake from you. When it wasn't provided, Gojo dragged you to fight a special rank curse as punishment. In the word "fight" I put the concepts of "running and screaming from despair." But you still didn't make him a cake).

And on a dark night, a visitor appeared at the lonely cemetery. Satoru stared at the grave for a long time, from which a strange energy emanated, and then silently put a bouquet of flowers next to it. Squatting down, Gojo carefully scanned the ground, as if trying to discover something that even his Six Eyes could not see.

Suddenly, someone touched his shoulders, and Satoru hurriedly turned around. A cheerful female laugh was heard in the right ear. When Gojo got up and looked around the cemetery, there was no one nearby.

*+*

–...And how many times do I have to tell you not to show up here, Gojo?!

Utahime grabbed the knife with which your friend was cutting fruit for a pie. Real pain appeared in the girl's big eyes. Iori promised that she would return the instrument later before throwing it into Satoru. The sorcerer raises his hand, and the blade pierces the palm through. Utahime looks at Gojo in horror and can't say a word.

Satoru, unlike Iori, shone like the sun and smiled like a jerk. He raised his head high and shouted:

–(Y/N-N)!

You appear in the aisle, go to Satoru, pull a knife out of his hand, causing the sorcerer to scream, and begin to heal the wound, holding his big palm with two of your own.

–(Y-Y/N)?.. – your senpai whispers in surprise.

–He's been doing this for some time, please don't pay attention.

–E-e-eh, how cute! My bride takes care of me! – Satoru smiles even harder.

–Maybe I should kiss your wound again? – you ask wearily. However, Gojo nodded so quickly that you thought his neck was about to break.

You sigh, bring Satoru's palm closer to you and kiss the skin cured by your cursed energy. 

The sorcerer smiles happily, looking at the colored plaster with stars, which you stick on his hand for the sake of decency. Gojo asks for a kiss and a Band-Aid, and you dutifully agree. Satoru runs away with happy screams, kissing you on the cheek one last time. You blush a lot, Utahime screams obscenities and hurries after the sorcerer to understand how the sorcerer sneaks into the school grounds every time, and also beat him for daring to kiss her kohai cheek with his vile lips.

Your friend wipes the blood from the knife and looks at you with an eyebrow raised. You blush harder and look away from her.

–This is just so that Gojo-sama can get out of here as soon as possible. And I'm not responsible for his stupid actions!

–Say it to Utahime-senpai, who curses Gojo-san every time she sees. She believes that your fate has been spoiled by this marriage from the very beginning.

You look at your hands, slightly stained with Satoru blood, and shrug your shoulders. Barely audible whisper: "Maybe ..."

[tteokdoroki]

HELLO PLS ELABORATE PRETTY PLS

dildos and katsuki bakugou !!

❧ ; a/n: i hope u enjoy my elaboration hehe >:D

❧ ; cw: smut, mdni 18+, dom-sub dynamics, sub!bakugou, dominant + afab!reader, double sided dildos, oral sex performed on a dildo, pegging.

❧ ; wc: 1.14K.

so you know those double ended dildos...imagine bringing a pretty one home for you and katsuki to share. it’s all ribbed and perfectly moulded you up your pleasure and at first the blonde thinks it’s just a little something extra to get you off — which he’s more than capable of doing on his own, why would you need a shitty toy? or maybe it’s for when he has to go away on those long and awful missions you hate so much...when you touch yourself all pretty for dynamight over the camera..?

“it’s for us to share, suki,” you tell him with hooded eyes, sliding between his parted legs as you rub your torso against his growing bulge. “it’ll make both of us feel so, so good, promise.” and bakugou can’t say no to you— the sight of you crawling up his body with the dildo at the seam of your lips, pink tongue darting out to roll over the toy and lube it up is enough to have this man a flushed faced, shuddering mess underneath you.

bakugou nods his head, body trembling as you hold the pink dildo up to his mouth— pushing it past plump cherry lips with your head tilted and a soft smile. the way you look at him has the temperature of his body rising higher and higher— the way you touch him setting a hazy fog over his brain, like he’s drowning under your control, willing slipping under the water of your dominance.

“suck for me baby,” you coo to him and fuck, katsuki can’t help but gag before hw’s even taken the whole thing. the dildo is heavy on his strawberry tongue and swells on his inner cheek— but having his mouth occupied makes bakugou delirious with lust, he likes feeling so full, likes how you look at him while you gently thrust the toy until it hits the back of his throat and he gags just a little bit, saliva seeping in thick honey streams. “good boy, that’s my good boy.”

bakugou can’t even think, between the thick toy in his mouth and your hand down his pants, tugging at his girth as it bricks up beneath the layers of clothes you make your way through. he’s all whimpers and whines till his hot skin hits the cool air and you pull the dildo from between his lips. “you can take it, can’t you? be good for me, katsuki?” are the next words of yours to make it through the sound barrier of lust in his ears— rattling his heart in its place when the toy glides between his pretty cheeks, blunt tip at his entrance as you keep his legs spread. “tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

but it doesn’t, the stretch, the burn of this special little toy you’ve bought home for you both feels so fucking good it’s got bakugou clawing at your linen bed sheets until his knuckles are white, hips bucking up into it and strangled moans rattling around in the base of his throat.

“f-fuck, that’s it.. that’s it,” he mumbles, red eyes fluttering with tears building up against his lash line— face tucked into the sheets as he circles his hips with the pace you control the toy at, the smooth tip brushing right against his walls hitting that special spot that makes bakugou flutter around the pink device. “more, please, please—“ it fills him up so good, all up in his guts until he’s crying out your name softly, lewdly— the you squelching deep within his hole. “fuck!”

“you’re so pretty like this, baby, i’ll give you more,” you say softly, hand on his dick speeding up while the toy hits deeper inside of him. you say it and it’s true— katsuki is so fucking pretty when he’s fucked out, cheeks flushed and eyes fluttering. you can’t help but want to give him more, have him take more as his back arches from the bed below and he clenches down on the thick dildo that stretches him out like he would you. you push him back onto the sheets until you’re straddling his achey shaky thighs, hand on his neck and you squeeze gently while positioning the toy at your own entrance— the way you slide down on it, forcing the pink dildo deeper into katsuki.

his red eyes coated with lust shoot open in shock, katsuki’s choked moan echoing between the four walls of your room as you bounce on the fake dick, the more you thrust the more it bullies it’s way into your boyfriend’s guts— rasped moans turning to breathy feather light gasps. the pleasure tingles at your fingertips, burns at the bottom of your lungs and the backs of your eyes as you plant your fingers on his chest for leverage.

up and down, in and out— squelching, slapping, drooling. your pretty boy, your bakugou— tongue slack in his mouth, heavy lidded eyes looking up at you in adoration with how you move above him with his nails digging into your wrists. the more you grind and ride the toy, the better the both of you feel. like droplets of pleasure have rained down on you from the heavens, that pressure of the dull tip brushing against your g-spot enough to make you moan. katsuki is no better, squirming and clenching and crying with pretty ocean eyes down the apples of his cheeks.

“‘m g’nna cum, baby— lemme cum. f’you— fuck please.” he slurs, crying when your hand starts moving up to squish his cheeks. the way the toy curves for both of you, against your insides perfectly— your arousals leaking down the plastic in a wet, slick way. “there...right there. god, fuck!”

“here baby?” you keep your voice soft, pushing your hips down just right so the dildo bears down on those squishy spots inside of you— grinning triumphantly when bakugou’s face changes, screwed up adorably— vermillion eyes rolling into the back of his skull. “right there, i think you deserve to cum pretty boy.” and that edge you were both sitting on finally comes crumbling down, katsuki stimulated so much that loads of his white cum flies up his chest— the whole world giving out beneath his feet as he shakes and feels new colours burning underneath his eyelids. a broken moan sounds on his wet lips while your bodies become slippery with the hot white of his seed and you follow suit, gushing down on the pink toy— painting katsuki’s thighs with your own release.

your lips fall against one another’s, slow and lazy as you both come down— katsuki’s chest heaving, tears slowing their flow before he giggles sleepily. “now i know what that fuckin’ toy was for,” he mumbles, hands on your waist to pull you close, content enough to give into the slumber he feels.

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[chocochiffonnn]

BOOTH - OWEN KNIGHT

PAIRING ▶ Windbreaker Owen Knight x Female Reader

GENRE ▶ Takes place in the original storyline.

WARNINGS ▶ Owen is a cocky bitch

WORD COUNT ▶  1.1K 

NOTE ▶  I haven’t fixed the layout for Windbreaker just yet, so please be patient with this one for now! Thank you !! Also, not YET proofread!

THE CRAMPED SPACE WAS NOTHING PLEASING--- If couples enjoyed this... Compact box, well, good for them. If friends laughed because the close proximity had their breaths short- well that was neat. 

Problem was, neither of you passed those qualifications. Both friends and couples, none. 

And it just had to be this spectacular idea Owen’s faulty brain had processed. Not only were you cramped physically, but in your perspective, you were mentally and emotionally in a rut, too. 

The small photo booth machine made you sniff Owen’s Jo Malone perfume- as he always babbled to your face. A rough hand of his had come to wrap around your mouth, the other one pointing to his mouth in a silent signal. His eyes were wide, indicating you to stay quiet.

Because if you made one single noise- it was over for the both of you. 

His eyes exaggerate.

You roll yours, forcibly prying it off your mouth as you tried to ignore his obviously toned body flushed against yours. Tried.

You've never assumed Owen's presence and body sandwiched between yours will have your brain foggy and your lungs needy for air. Frankly speaking, you hated Owen, not so much where you held a personal grudge against him, but just enough to have your blood boil whenever you see him.

Owen was noisy. Owen complained a lot. Owen was annoying.

But now what ran through your mind was:

Owen smelled good. Owen looked attractive. Owen felt different.

You carelessly pushed those thoughts away, shaking your head in the process. Nope. You were not going to go through that. The young man's ego was towering enough.

You bit your lip, hands quickly fumbling with the red curtains of the booth, peeking through the slight gap you've created in order to check the situation outside. Your breath hitched as you felt Owen's breath just right above your shoulder, and his chest- you could feel his chest at your back, like a fucking puzzle piece.

“Is it clear?” Owen whispers, voice ringing through your ears and tensing you up more than ever before. You gulp, nodding as your eyes scanned the bright lights of the mall. Anything but fucking this. Anything.

“Can we get out now?” He whispers again, the same vibration reaching your whole body, hair tingling up so swiftly. You didn't know if you were comfortable or uncomfortable in this situation. You didn't know if you wanted to agree or deny his statement.

But as if your hands had a mind of its own, you quickly let go of the curtains with a shake of your head and shutting your eyes tight. Your hands formed into a tight fist. Why in the hell did you say that?!

“I thought the coast was clear?” Owen asks, confused. You quickly turn your head to face him, mouth just inches away from his. You flinched, backing away from him even if it meant hitting your head on the hard steel of the booth.

Yeah. The coast was clear.

“No. Shelly and Jay are still talking.” You whisper beneath your breath.

“Damn,” Owen curses, “It's hella cramped here, my legs won't fit.” He complained.

You pursed your lips, “You're the one that suggested we stay in this cramped place.” Seething, as if slightly annoyed.

Owen rolls his eyes, “Where do you suggest we hide then? That thin pole beside the cinema? Or the platform in front of it? Huh, smarty pants?”

“Five year old.”

“Old lady.”

“Rancid.”

“Party— Hey!” Owen shouts slightly. Your eyes creased, mirroring his silent signal earlier with your index finger. He quickly shuts his mouth, then leans down even closer to you with a frown. Closer. He was unaware of how close he was until the space was nothing more than an inch, nothing more than an imaginary barrier that was on the brink of disintegrating.

“I wear good perfume!”

“You—” You winced, pushing his chest off of you. “Your perfume's too strong.”

“It's not.”

“It is.”

“It's not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it's not.”

“Yes— okay you know what?”

“What?”

“I lied okay? The coast was clear, let's go out now.” You quickly picked up your belongings, no longer waiting for the man as you exited the booth. If you had to spend another minute with his presence and body close to yours, you might lose it and even worse if you had to spend just one more second with his lousy mouth.

“Hey!” You hear Owen's voice from a distance. You continued on walking, refusing to look back. Eventually, he reached you quickly as his footsteps were far larger than yours. He walked alongside you as you skipped, looking straight ahead and ignoring his eyes on you.

“Why'd you lie?” He says, and you could feel the stupid grin on his cheeks. You ignored him, stepping down the escalator. Owen followed suit, putting his hands in his pocket. You mentally prepared with a sigh. The worst was yet to come.

“Did you want to spend more time with me?”

“No.” You quickly retaliate.

“Really? Why did you lie then?” He utters, the hideous grin still plastered on his face.

“It slipped out.” You try to cover. However, Owen was anything but stupid. Doubting your excuse, he hums teasingly with a chuckle. Your footsteps reached the second floor, you quickly hurry without looking back to the next escalator. It did slip out. You almost said, but you quickly held back. 

Why exactly did it slip out anyway? You figured he’d say. 

“Hey!” Owen shouts again, trying to gain your attention. 

“What?” You say, stopping in front of him, annoyed. 

“Look,” Owen grins as he finally gained your eyes on his. He fished something out from his pocket, a thin glossy a4 paper. Your eyes creased as you watched the paper being placed in front of you. 

There, laid your oblivious pictures with him back in the booth. The first box had contained the two of you sitting uncomfortably when you just entered the booth. The second, had shown you peeking out the curtain and Owen posing at the camera with a peace sign as you were completely unaware of the flashing of the camera. The third, was the two of you bickering over stupid nicknames. And the fourth, was the picture wherein Owen had been so close to you, the distance was almost non-existent. Your eyes were wide in that picture, and your expressions were in full display Owen couldn’t help but laugh. 

“This one’s my favorite.” He says, pointing at the fourth picture. Your mouth was left agape as you stared at the pictures in his hand. 

The both of you looked so foolish and dumb... But also so cute and carefree. 

“We look stupid.” You say as a chuckle accidentally slips out of your mouth.

“No we don’t. We look cute- you look cute.”

And for the first time ever, you were unable to argue back with Owen’s statement. If anything- it had left you speechless and maybe even slightly blushing.

[leggerefiore]

Do you have any more headcanons for Drider Emmet, it’s really awesome and I keep going back to reread what you put on it! Like does he do when the s/o is at work? How does he and s/o spend days off from work? How does the pregnancy go? And what happened the first time Emmet cocooned s/o did they freak out or kept calling out to Emmet to wake up and let them out?

brain craving more spider conductor...

cw: monster pregnancy...

▽Drider Emmet△

○ His days are usually spent doing some light chores, unless there's something extremely pressing to be done. Your clothes are washed and folded, there's always a meal to make you (to show he's a good mate), and he may start working on another gift for you using his web. Though, he does sneak out to go see Ingo and Elesa when he can. There's an urge to explore the world that he's been so cruelly denied. His cycles aren't even a thing to worry about anymore with you.

○ Ingo actually has been bolder about introducing his twin around the station. Many are horrified by Emmet's presence, yet intrigued by how he could even by the very human-looking brother's twin. Ingo reveals he has small amounts of easily hidden arachnidian features, which terrifies the people. They want to be discriminatory against him, but he does his job extremely well and his inhuman features are easily skimmed over. The older twin begins to wonder on how he could put Emmet to work at the station afterwards. His younger brother is perhaps even better than him in some aspects related to his job. (Yellow tufts of fur are all over Ingo's body, he has a feeble electrical charge he can send out, and he has a second pair of eyes hidden by his cap and kept closed at all times.)

○ Elesa all but parades the hybrid around during their time together. She is unashamed of her friend and will let absolutely nobody do anything to him. A crazed fan attempted to stab Emmet, thinking he was attacking her when going in for a hug. Zebstrika tackled them so fast that there was fear he broke the sound barrier. People see Emmet as less terrifying as Elesa posts him to her social medias and watch as they interact out in public. (Aren't spider hybrids so supposed to be super misanthropic and violent? That one just talks funny and eats too much sugar to be healthy for their body.)

○ Time spent with you is most important. He'll do anything you want to do; stay in all day, go out to eat, wander around the Chargestone Cave for him to adopt more Joltiks, somehow manage to fit him onto the Ferris wheel. All of it is enjoyed thoroughly. You'll usually stay in, but he doesn't mind. He curls himself around you while you enjoy a show and Joltiks come to sit all over the both of you. He offers a strange massage to you which leaves you quite relaxed from any tension. Emmet wants to spend time curled up on his web with you, too. It's deeply personal and extremely intimate, you'll put up with him cuddling you from extremely odd directions. (In the wild, you would be bait for an unsuspecting stranger to get stuck in his web. Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.)

○ The first time you woke up cocooned was truly a terrifying one. You believed Emmet had decided you weren't a mate any longer, but, rather, a meal. Screaming and trying to wrestle away from the weirdly comfortable binds, you rolled off your bed onto the floor. You kept attempting to move, but ended up hitting the corner of some furniture with your head. This made you start crying from fear and pain. A few moments passed in this state until a sleep Emmet scuttled up to your room while rubbing his middle pair of eyes. He yawns and looks at you. “Darling, why are you on the floor - Wait! Are you crying!? What's wrong!” You are quickly freed from the cocoon and held against him while he presses kisses to your newly forming bruise. It turns out: no, he wasn't setting out to eat you. There's an instinct in spider hybrids to bind their mate because in the wild you would have nothing else to keep you warm and secure while living in his web. The twin starts crying because you don't trust him. (He's taking all of the Joltiks in the divorce.)

○ Pregnancy goes depressingly. Naturally, your body isn't too happy about the pseudo-parasitical nature of it all. A majority of the eggs are forced from your body and deemed unviable. Emmet is a complete mess about it because neither of you considered this aspect. It does make sense, however. Out of his mother's entire clutch, only him and Ingo survived. They were an anomaly themselves, too, as identical twins. You'll notice him wrapping the rejected eggs with a deep melancholy. Let him mourn for a moment; you're fighting an absolutely wretched fever.

○ Your body doesn't manage to reject all the eggs, though. Somehow you managed to keep two eggs, an extremely rare endeavour. Emmet's whole attention is on protecting you and his remaining young. The violent aspect of spider hybrids can easily be avoided if you listen to their mate warning you that they're carrying eggs and the hybrid is overprotective currently due to that. Some people don't, and you have to act injured to stop the twin from electrocuting someone.

○ You will unfortunately be giving a live birth, as the eggs hatch inside of you. On the bright side, you have two unbelievably adorable spider babies who cling to you. You wonder how your DNA was inputted into them, as they have your eyes and some of your features. Emmet only smiles and shrugs. (Don't be fooled; he knows exactly how.) He is all over his two children the moment they're finally born properly into the world. They're notably more independent than human infants, yet somehow managed also not to be. You'll likely be taking a leave from work, so you wonder how they'll handle that. They aren't able to speak human languages yet, so only Emmet truly knows what they want (and Ingo. It terrifies you when he clicks at them; you had no idea he could do that. He shoots out an “are you serious” expression.) It's obvious they love you, however. They're always at your side and cling to you worse than their father.

[onyxoverride]

Hopeless - Mikasa Ackerman x Reader 

◙warnings: female reader. mutual pining. a sprinkle of sexuality struggles. fingering, eating pussy, face sitting. fluffy, wholesome. SMUT. 

◙word count: 3.9k

◙summary: You like Mikasa but you’re struggling a bit to come to that realization, and now you struggle to confess. But confessing goes really well. 

You didn't mean for it to go like this. You feel hopeless. It started with curious touches in the shower after grueling missions and massages after training, gentle caresses whenever she looked worried. You didn't even realize it started to be more until Jean started teasing you about liking her. You were confused but now you had to confront something about yourself that you never have before. 

But if it's true… it makes sense. You never really showed much interest in the boys of the village and whenever one tried to flirt with you, you'd clap your hand on their back and compliment them, completely oblivious of their affections. And whenever girls would set flower crowns on your head it would make your heart flutter, and your best friend as a kid that let hands wander in the barn before dinner. You tucked it away deep within yourself. The memories and the mental struggles of trying to figure it out. Who has the time when you are trying to become a scout and kill titans and avoid being killed by said titans? 

Did her sharing food with you and no one else mean something? Did her waiting to go to the showers with you mean anything? What about when you two trained with each other to the point of exhaustion, laying beside each other out of breath with the evening air trying its best to cool your heated skin. Yes, you worried for her yes, you cared but was it romantic? 

You dig hard into your brain trying out different scenarios in your head trying to figure it out. 

People go on dates, get food, and sometimes coffee, but you've done that with her before. Her favorite coffee is a lavender latte because she doesn't like the bitterness as much as you'd think, and lavender reminds her of Eren's mother, and she likes the apples from the stall closest to the alley by the inn because they're the juiciest and the vendor is the nicest old lady. 

Well, people who date also hold hands, and you've done that before too, dragging her through the city on a momentary day off or after missions when things got particularly gorey even on missions riding in a carriage to your destination you'd grasp your hand around hers and squeeze to let her know that you are there and you are there for her. 

She cared for you too. You know it, now, comparing what she did with everyone else to how she treats you. How she teased Sasha but gave you her leftover bread, how whenever Jean and Eren brawl she puts some sort of barrier between you and them just in case, even though she knows you know how to handle yourself. The little glances of confirmation that you are eating, you’re still there. When she helped you in the shower after hurting your leg on that one mission. The tension in the air was thick but it wasn’t exclusively sexual, intimate and intense as she helped you wash off the day’s grime and massage the soap around your shoulders and thighs. Circling soap around your thighs and hips and when she would help you stand she would ignore your shy demeanor for the sake of your comfort. Maybe that’s when you should have confronted this part of you but you’ve refused and pushed it away all this time why not some more? You’ve knocked it down every time it peaks its glaring head.

And then the dreams came.

What you've seen in the shower pieces itself together in unholy ways while you sleep. You still can feel her hands on your body from when she helped you. The interesting positions you would end up in while training with her fueled the dreams as well. The muscles she dutifully keeps up with straining for you, her calloused hands on your body, her grey eyes peeking at you from between your legs. Other Nights you would be on top of her, making her bite at her lips trying to keep her moans at bay. Almost every morning you can't look at her when you wake up because it's still so vivid. She'd paint mosaics in your skin with her tongue and you feel like you finally understand what those worshippers of the walls feel because you would do anything for her, worship her, keep all her secrets and demand her safety. You've had dreams like this before, one with Annie when you were training that terrified you more than Annie herself. Or those times when you stayed in an inn above a bar and the owner's daughter with brunette hair would flirt with you every chance she got.

But dreams of this intensity, this frequency? Never. It's disturbing your daily life and you are hopeless. Hopelessly head over heels with a woman you can only read into so much. She is not an open book but you've seen a few pages and it's enough to have you hooked on the series. This time you can't push it down, or away into the deepest wrinkles of your brain. Your attraction for her is branded into your temporal lobe burning through your skull and it's this close to being shown on your forehead. Now the food she shares, the concern she shows, you fear you're reading too deep into her actions. After she asks Eren if he's okay then it's you and no one else. Every time you speak with her it feels like the sun has hit your skin even when it's nighttime. Everybody else sees it, everybody else knows vaguely what is going on, except Eren and Mikasa it seems. Eren because he's too thick in the head to even understand what's going on between you and Mikasa and Mikasa because… well you don't know. Maybe she's gained Erens obliviousness over the years or maybe she just doesn't get whatever the fuck romance is or consists of or maybe she does get it but doesn't let on that she does. Jean had to get over his crush on Mikasa because at least he can see how she cared for you, which you feel bad for because he probably has a higher chance than you. There are nights where the trouble realizations you've pushed away come back to crush you during the deep hours of the night when you're supposed to be asleep. You are glad you can cry quietly those nights but sometimes you can't and that's when Sasha spares you words to curl at your side as you sob into her shoulder. You don't speak of it the next morning, neither of you do, and you blame the irritation of the white of your eyes on bad sleep and sometimes allergies if you're lucky. 

When it comes for the time of one of the riskiest missions, worry stringing through the air and through everyone's veins, seeping into dreams of the following nights, your struggling sexuality starts to simmer down with the rise of realization that your friends and Mikasa have chances of not coming back alive. But you're realistic, you aren't as powerful as Mikasa and she's almost at the skill level of Levi. You might die never telling her, or confronting yourself, and you think that might be your only regret if you drop dead right in this moment. A night before the mission and Jean nudges you with a solemn expression. You already know what he's alluding to, so you just nod at him. You don't want to talk about it or speak it aloud in general. He just thinks you are hopeless at this point. If you talk about it aloud it feels like you would just jinx yourself and you convince yourself that's partially the reason why you haven't said anything yet.

You see her with her short cut hair, looking so firm but so worried. Probably for Eren, and everybody, and the possible results of said mission. The overbearing threat of death doesn't make for bright moods. 

So you don't do it. You don't confess. You abandon your mental script for now of what you were going to say. You needed a spark to get the fire going. To gain the courage to pour your heart out and how can you get this spark in such damp air? 

Jean and Sasha give you a pitiful look before they get on their horses because they just know. Again, you're hopeless. The air around you and Mikasa is painfully consistent, the same as before and you look like you haven't slept in years. Levi has already scolded you for looking like shit, you don't need them on your ass as well so they don't say anything.

You are glad the mission is coming to an exhausting end. Your closest friends aren't hurt besides sore muscles and scratches and most importantly, Mikasa is in good shape. It's amazing what near-death experiences can do, and finally, the spark you were waiting for has been found, you've found the flint and steel to create it. Now, to actually figure out where to start that fire. 

Turns out your chance is the day after you get back from the previous mission. A celebration dying down in the dining hall, your friends stumbling around like happy drunks as they should. You aren't drunk but the drinks you have had throughout the night make your chest heat up and your only thought is "now or never." Mikasa, sitting outside, alone and strikingly sober, looks like a stone statue carved by the gods with her sleeves rolled of her button-up rolled to her elbows. It's chilly outside but comfortable on your warm skin and part of you fears to disturb her, as if you're disturbing an artist's focus on their painting or a baker with their bread and you would ruin the process. 

But the continuous chant of "now or never" continues like a hymn and you can't ignore it, or push it down. Sitting next to her isn't the nerve-wracking part, it's when you look into her eyes and now most of your pre-made script is thrown out the window and your heart is stuck in your throat. There are already tears swimming at your eye line but you've waited long enough to do this, you've sat in your own puddle of woes long enough. 

She regards you with a hum and a twitch of her thin eyebrow because she can see the glossiness in your eyes. You're a soldier goddamnit but this seems scarier than fighting titans or other humans. 

"I need-" You choke for a moment but continue, "I need to tell you something and I need you to listen." At least the beginning of your mental script has come in handy but the middle becomes muddled in your emotion-filled brain. She's nodding and scooting closer which encourages you to at least keep speaking, "if this doesn't apply pretend I never said anything okay?" It is rhetorical and much more of a demand than a question but she nods with a simple "okay," as you continue. 

"Do you have room in your heart to love me?" Why did you have to phrase it like that? There were so many more options you could have chosen from but you said this one. It makes her sound so cold-hearted, but at least you won't make her choose, if she has room in her heart to love you, you just hope you can fill it. She looks at you with your quivering lip, hands clenching the table harshly to keep you grounded. 

Mikasa is deliberating in her head. She knew to an extent how far her affections stretch for you, further than where Eren stands for sure. She didn't need to debate her own attractions as you have, it became very simple. She likes who she likes, it doesn't matter what they look like, as long as she deems them good and starts to think of them romantically. Ever since seeing you in training, and fighting along your side against titans, seeing you care for your peers so sweetly, she's held a special place in her heart for you. She's heard you cry at night and it pulled at her heart, tempted her to slide into your bed and hold you, but Sasha did that instead. Mikasa has felt a bit hopeless this whole time but now- She's been biting at her lip this whole time and the light taste of iron pulls her back to reality because she needs to answer before your tears fall. Something quick, simple, and to the point-

"I do love you," her own lip shakes a bit. Admittedly, she's surprised that so much emotion is pulled between the two of you. She would daydream about you two laying in the grass, casually confessing and falling into each other so easily like you always have, during fighting or strategy planning. She rests her hand to the side of your face, thumb wiping the stray tears as you let out a relieved sob. Pulling you to her, resting her hand on the back of your head, and shoving your face into her neck, you accept willingly. Mikasa doesn't know how to comfort, but she hopes you can feel her trying. It looks like you've been struggling because this obviously isn't just the remnants of alcohol in your system and she wishes she could have helped you earlier. Wishes she did crawl into your bunk when you cried. She can't help but shed some tears, out of sympathy, out of a relief that maybe now you don't need to hurt anymore, and now she can actually participate in your affections for her instead of pining like she usually does. 

Your tears sting your lips but it's nothing compared to the emotional euphoria you are feeling. A feeling you only could describe as FINALLY. She pulls you to her face, pressing her lips into yours and you never imagined your first kiss with Mikasa would be a teary one. She tastes like iron from her bitten lips and you are sure the tears sticking to your own sting. Your teeth clank together a few times, letting out a few breathless chuckles. Both of you barely have experience in this field, but you fall into the paces of caressing each other easily. Maybe you two shouldn't be touching each other like this, right now after you've confessed. You're still outside, anybody could see but she's dragging you to her room which seems only a few paces away. There really isn't time to think, you're still riding this emotional euphoric wave and so is she. Maybe if she took a moment to think and not just take you to her bed right away then she would stop but Mikasa doesn't actually want to think logically right now. She has pined silently long enough, maybe she deserves to give into this. These temptations with the little voice nagging at the back of her mind that "wouldn't she look so good bent over the table right now? What about you pulling her to sit between your thighs to-"

You two bump into a tipsy Sasha on the way but the look in Mikasa's eye makes her shut her mouth and get out of the way quickly. You can hear her scurry off and yell-whisper something to someone but that doesn't quite matter right now because the woman you've been craving since the start is pulling you to her bottom bunk bed to sit on top of her. That script you've forgotten definitely did not include this, but you aren't complaining. 

She's grasping at your hips, groping at whatever she can to keep you close and you're doing your own damage. Digging your fingertips into her muscles and chest, rolling your hips into her thigh that rubs just the right spot along the seam of your pants. You aren't exactly being soft but based on her little moans and grunts in between your kisses you think that she probably likes your roughness. Though you do like her in a white button-up she looks better without it, granted she feels exposed but making it even is easy when you're so willing to be stripped by her. You can't help but wish you could touch her chest a little longer because her cheeks only darken more and more every time you tweak her nipples and suck dark maroon marks into her chest, her reactions are priceless. She's pulled you to her, chest to chest to suck at your neck, biting against your skin leaving a kiss after each nip that makes your skin hot. Eventually, she pushes you back to fall into the bed and yanks your pants off as quick as she could manage leaving your thighs to frame her shoulders, knees almost to your chest. It's highly humiliating, she's staring at you from between your legs, and the eye contact from earlier when you were confessing that you thought was nerve-wracking compares nothing to the look she's giving you now, glancing between your eyes and your cunt. 

She's devouring you, liking stripes along your folds as you roll your hips into her mouth. The echoing of footsteps along wood makes you freeze and bite the back of your hand to your mouth to stay quiet but Mikasa doesn't stop. Her actions make your thighs clench around her head and she's gripping your thighs while she eats you out mercilessly. You're glad the footsteps leave, or at least you hope they have but your attention is solely on Mikasa and her fingers are working their way into you, twisting at all the right spots. You're both clumsy and inexperienced but everything just feels good, simply wonderful, both of you completely content with each other in this moment as you try to grip at her smooth hair. A climax slowly approaching like a steady march along your belly with her tongue flicking along your clit-

Regrettably, she pulls back, your slick covering her lips and chin, even her nose. She leans over you, brings your lips together once more and she tastes like you, so embarrassingly slick and almost flavorless but so undeniably you. Her fingers are still working inside you and her palm is rubbing against your clit messily, not as precise and erotic as her tongue but it still makes you clench around her nonetheless. It leaves you gasping, "Where-" another slick kiss, "where did you learn this-" one more. She pulls back to sit on her calves and sends you an almost smile, "I'm a woman too," as if that could satisfy the question but she continues, "touching myself to the thought of you gives me at least a bit of experience." Oh. Oh. She said that so bluntly and you bet she did it on purpose just to fluster you and it's succeeding. 

But seriously, her fingers are making your eyes roll back in your head and she's hitting the most sensitive patches in your cunt that make your mind go fuzzy so you can't focus at all. She eats your moans and sweet little half pleas she's cut off with kisses and by the time your climax finally reaches you, you accidentally bite her lip as your walls clench around her fingers sporadically. Her lips were already raw with her nervous tick but with you biting, it feels different and entirely refreshing. There are tears clinging to your eyelashes left from your orgasm and she sits back to watch your chest heave and suck your cum off her fingers loudly. 

Mikasa really is a devil, but who are you to not give in to her, to try to make her feel good as well? There's still adrenaline from your climax running through your veins so you'll use what's left to get her off, it's the least you could do. Part of it is entirely self-indulgent though, to watch her fall apart from your hands. 

"Sit on my face," it shocks her a bit but she won't deny that this is something she wants to indulge herself in, so she sets her thighs on each side of your head with her hand braced against the bottom of the bunk above her. She has to tilt her head a bit awkwardly but she's a bit more focused on how you're spreading her wet cunt out and lapping at her clit to care. It's horribly loud because her cunts been drenched since she started kissing you. Her hands grasping at your sides to keep steady, muscles flexing and thighs shivering it all feels like too much. She curled her fingers like this, and maybe it's a universal trick because she tightens and gasps. Not loud, Mikasa never is but the soft mewls she lets out are worth the work, grinding down into your mouth. Flattening your tongue against her and your wrist is twisted in a weird way to keep thrusting into her, continuously curling, and she's so close to falling apart above you. Her hand grips the board of the bunk above her so hard it cracks and she falls apart on your tongue with a gasping groan and one last roll of her hips. 

The realization that you're her arms, that she loves you back hovers over you again and it makes the night so much sweeter. But you both really need a shower and your eyes are already drooping, begging for some sleep. 

When the rest of the girls finally make their way back to their beds they have to do a triple take of Mikasa's bed because both of you are intertwined with each other under the sheets, dead asleep with her hair still slightly damp from the shower. As much as Sasha wants to coo at you two she can't help but remember the scary look in Mikasa's eyes when they crashed earlier, so she lets the feeling of happiness for her friends wash over her silently. By the next morning, both of you are late for breakfast, and Jean is starting at the two of you as you both eat. 

"So… you two finally find out you were in love with each other this whole time?" Mikasa flushes up to her ears and you freeze up like a deer in headlights. Silence.. until Sasha leans over and whispers all too loud, "They fucked. You could smell it in the room," and a spoon makes contact with her forehead almost making her blackout. Jean goes completely red and Eren stutters out incomprehensible sentences mostly involving "what's going on? What they're dating? You liked her? Mikasa why didn't you tell me-" No one feels like updating him so they just let him ramble. Connie is a bit red too, "so yall are actually dating?" It makes your heart beat faster than you expected. You love your friends you know they wouldn’t be ignorant or mean but still, the worry pulls in the back of your head. 

Well, you two really didn't talk about dating after you confessed, and- well that part of the dynamic didn't really cross your mind until now. Mikasa grips your thigh under the table, "She's my girlfriend," she says so loud and clear you could hear it across the dining hall, laced with a bit of possessiveness. Just barely you can hear Levi scoff out a "They're hopeless." 

You guess you are, but at least you are hopeless with her. And after all this time, your struggles are put to rest deep in the back of your mind to stay for good.

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 <3

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

[just-my-fandom]

Heartache (Shouta Aizawa x Pro-Hero! Reader)

A/N: Ooo-kay, finally back from my month long, needed break from writing. I’m kinda attached to MHA at the moment, so that is what I am taking requests for.

Summary; The two times where two of UAs teachers nearly lose their lives to protect their students, mindful of the child they have at home.

Request; Can we have some pro hero love where reader (pro hero) and Mr. Aizawa have a daughter and Thirteen who is readers best friend is said daughters god mom while Present Mic is the god dad plz

Akari- Japanese name meaning “Light”. Readers quirk is the ability to send large waves of energy a selective distance, and shield herself with said energy.

Two months prior- U.A.

“Alright, everyone,”

Shouta Aizawa seemed well too calm this early morning. Too calm despite the fact that he is holding a child on his hip, who looked all too like him.

“Today’s lesson is simple. Based on communication,” He starts, “Communication when it comes to citizens. This lesson will teach you how to comfort an injured or scared citizen during an attack, specifically women and children,”

“Uh, Mr. Aizawa?” Denki Kaminari was first to speak up, hand half raised in confusion, “Why do you have a baby?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mina leans forward, eyes wide and gleaming happily, “That’s Mr. Aizawas and Neutron Shields baby! She looks just like him,”

“Lets not jump to conclusions,” Shouta hums, but the barely visible smirk on his lips lets his class know that the toddler is, indeed, his own, “I brought Akari here today for the lesson that will be taught. You will all need to learn and know how to comfort a child during an attack if the child has been separated from its parents,”

“Only, however,” Shoutas eyebrow raise causes his students to watch as his daughter leaned against his shoulder and glanced outward to the class, “Akari does have a quirk. It is similar to her mother’s, as Mina predicted, Neutron Shields. Meaning if she were to get defensive, you would have to calm the child from harming herself more, or you,”

“So we’re fighting a little brat,” Bakugou mumbles, rolling his eyes so when he looked back up to his teacher, said mans hair had raised and his eyes glowed red,

“Insult my daughter again,” Shouta threatens, instantly dropping his intimidating act when Akaris hand reaches up to pat his face. With a deep sigh, Shouta looks away from his daughter to his students, “No. Youre not fighting her. Simply consult her into comfort so she knows you’re not a threat. Akaris been taught how to control her quirk on demand,”

Lowering the toddler onto the floor, Shouta steps back as soon as his daughter began to tear up, twisting to reach for her father with quiet sniffles.

“Well?” Shouta eyes the students, when Akari hiccups and looks back to the teenagers, “She’s distressed,”

“I got this,” Kirishima is first to push out of his desk, hands out and steps slow as he approached the child, “Hey, Akari, it’s okay,”

Akari is swift to shake her head and twist her upper body away from the red head. On cue, a purple bubble surrounds herself, Bakugous brows pinching as Dekis mouth dropped, hand reaching over to pat Todorokis shoulder in amazement.

The bubble then expands to hit Kirishima and throw him off his feet, landing hard on his back so Akari blinked and giggled, loudly, the bubble then vanishing.

“Me next!” Mina exclaims, Akaris eyes flicking from the red head and to the pink skinned girl, who knelt down next to Kirishima and opened-closed her hands.

Hesitantly, Akami leant forward onto her hands and knees, ready to crawl up to the girl, but instead blinked so a bubble formed around Mina, the bubble suddenly shrinking so Mina shrieked and pressed her hands to the sides in an attempt to stop the shied like bubble from crushing her.

“Akari,” Shouta speaks up, his daughter blinking so the bubble vanished, her eyes shifting to her father before looking back to the class, Mina exhaling in relief and backing away.

“Come on, shit for brains,” Bakugou scoffs, standing to his feet so Akari stared at him, “We’ve trained with Neutron Shield before. The brats no different,”

“Akari is a child,” Todoroki reminds, on his own feet and stepping forward so Akari instantly reached up, the fire and ice powered male pausing to stare at her.

Her whine when he makes no move to pick her up causes him to do so, Shouta smirking as Akari stared at Bakugou and stuck her thumb into her mouth.

“It seems she has a favorite,”

USJ Training Facility

You weren’t sure what happened. As soon as you were in line of view, two of Shoutas students- Uraraka and Ashido- immediately began to panic from where they knelt down next to Thirteens collapsed figure.

“Mrs. Aizawa!” Mina cries, tears in her eyes as her hand rests on Thirteens shoulder, “Thirteen- she took a hit-!”

You are quick to move next to Ochaco, hand opposite of Minas so Thirteens head turned and her eyes weakly looked up at you,

“Thirteen,” You call, softly, “Hey. It’s okay,”

“I tried to protect them,” Thirteen murmurs, and you nod, sliding your arms beneath hers to heave her to her feet, Mina and Ochaco quick to stick their hands out in case she fell,

“You did,” You promise, “You did amazing, Thirteen,” Your eyes flick to the class, “Where’s Iida?”

“Getting help,” Mina heaves, shakily, “What- what’s going to happen to Thirteen?”

“Shes going to be okay,” You reassure, and shift Thirteens arm around your shoulders so she fell slump against your side, “I’m going to make sure of that,” Your eyes shift to your best friend, “Do you hear me, Thirteen? Akari needs her godmother in her life,”

“I’ll always be here for that angel,” Thirteen breathily laughs, watching as you looked over in alarm at the sounds of fighting, “Eraserhead. He stayed behind,”

“He can hold his own,” You murmur, but the doubt in your tone causes Thirteen to grasp the back of your suit,

“Go help him,” Thirteen demands, extending her free hand for Mina to drape at her shoulders, “I’ll be fine,”

You hesitantly peel away from the pro-hero, glancing between her and where the fighting could be heard, before you sprint down the steps, looking up in time to see Noumu, Shigarakis weapon, on top of your collapsed husband.

“Hey!” You call, raising your hands so a bubble surrounded you, expanding in a rush to hit Noumu so he stumbled off his feet, a good distance away from Shoutas figure.

Protect him. Protect him now.

With quick steps, you throw out a hand that forms a bright (Favorite/Color) bubble, which you slide under and next to Shoutas collapsed form so the bubble shielded both you and him.

“I always wondered when I would get to fight the famous Eraserhead and Neutron Shield at once,” Shigaraki speaks, your eyes shifting over your shoulder where he stood at one end of your bubble, while Noumu stood opposite of his leader,

“But defeating them both?” Shigaraki chuckles, “A dream come true,”

The first punch Noumu sends against your bubble creates severe damage to your shield. It cracks beneath his fist, giving the monster the confidence he needs to continue punching and clawing at the barrier,

“Mrs. Aizawa can’t take them both- not on her own,” Midoryia heaves from his spot in the water, where he, Mineta, and Asui hid a good distance from the battle.

“She has shields!” Mineta reminds, shivering in a panic, “She’ll be fine!”

“Ribbit, her bubble can only take a certain amount of damage before it breaks,” Asui states, “And the damage her shields take, her body takes,”

Where’s All Might when you need him?

With a weak breath, you slide your hand beneath Shoutas head, resting it in your lap as your muscles screamed for you to drop your shields.

“Honey,” You call, pleadingly, free hand resting over Shoutas chest- thankful to feel a heartbeat, “Baby, wake up. Please,”

Looking up, you watch as the top of your bubble cracks and shrivels in defeat, Noumu stepping back enough for the shield to drop and leave not only you, but now Shouta, vulnerable.

With a startled gasp, you raise your hand as Noumu then lunged at you, the shield only protecting your face, so the punch Noumu sends forces you feet back, tumbling backwards and onto your front, leaving Shouta out in the open yet again.

Fingernails grabbing at dirt, you moan out in pain, forcing your arms to push you to sit up, raising your head in time for Noumus claws to latch at your shoulders, shoving you onto your back, his weight forcing you to gasp for air at the pressure of him on your chest,

Raising a hand that clawed at his arm, you are quick to throw a shied, the edge slicing Noumus face so he only jerked back then growled down at you.

With wide eyes, you look over to Shoutas form, then up, at a distanced- “I am here!”

Noumus weight lifts as he departs, your lungs expanding as you gasped, coughing as you sit up, slowly moving up to Shoutas form.

“Help me get him up,” You demand, when Tsuyu and Mineta rush next to you, “Please,”

“Mrs. Aizawa- you’re bleeding!” Mineta stammers, your hand raising to your mouth where blood dripped.

Shaking your head, you allow All Might to take your hand and help you stand, “I’m not worried about me. Get him out of here,”

Camp Attack

Why were you struggling so hard to fight a girl with a knife? Maybe it was because you just couldn’t stomach the thought that your students- your husband were still somewhere in these woods, being attacked by someone else.

Your breaths are shallow by the time you pull yourself from your thoughts. With a hand grasping Togas wrist that held the knife, your eyes wildly search behind you, landing on two of your students,

“Asui, Uraraka, go,” You heave, grunting when Toga shoves at your front, “Go, now!”

Uraraka gasps in fear when Togas foot skillfully hooks around your ankle, jerking so you fell on your back with a pained grunt. Toga is quick to pin over top of you, knife held against the skin of your neck.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a pro-hero?” Toga grins, voice high as you narrow your eyes and suck in a deep breath through the nose, “You’ve gotten weak after having that stupid baby of yours,”

“Do not ever mention my child,” You heave, raising a hand so a shield formed, that instantly vanished when Togas knife slid across your neck, startling you to gasp in quick breaths,

“Mrs. Aizawa!” The two students shriek, your eyes pinching shut as you form a small bubble around you, successfully pushing Toga off of you so you could sit up and cough, hand covered in dark red blood.

You look over and form a bubble around Asui and Uraraka, looking back up at Toga when she giggles, dragging the blood covered knife across the bubble,

“You think a small bubble can stop me from getting what I want?” With a quick jab, the knife plunges into the bubble so you flinched and raised a hand to your neck.

Vision blurry, you blink, the bubble shattering so Toga giggled and lunges forward, not before a tongue shoots out and wraps around her, tossing her to the side and into a tree nearby,

“Mrs. Aizawa!” Uraraka quickly moves next to you, eyes wide as she watches you slowly lower back onto the dirt in defeat, “Mrs. Aizawa, stay awake!” Uraraka looks to Asui, alarmed to find Toga gone, “Tsu, go get help!”

“Uraraka, Asui!” The two girls look over, to find a group- consisting of Midoryia, Todoroki, Bakugou, Shoji, and Tokoyami- rushing towards them, “Come on! We’re heading back to the Camp!”

“Our pace will be slower with two injuries,” Todoroki states, eyes flicking to Midoryia on Shojis back, before he moves to help lift you up, your arms around his and Urarakas shoulders, “We need to find Mr. Aizawa, first and foremost,”

“They said we can use our powers to defend ourselves, and now we have two injured, one being a teacher,” Shoji states, “So don’t let anyone stop you,”

Present

“You shouldn’t be moving around so much,”

You hum through a light laugh, lifting your head from where you rocked back and forth on your feet, your daughter curled against you.

“I’m not dying, Shouta. I’ll be fine,” You feel Akaris hand graze across the stitches at your neck, as you turn to face your husband.

“That’s nothing to joke about,” Shouta steps up, sliding his hands under Akaris arms to peel her away from you and against his own shoulder,

“Just thought I’d give a little pay back for the heart attack you gave me during the USJ incident,” You shrug, frowning at Shoutas glare, “Okay. Sorry. But honestly, honey, I’m okay. Recovery Girl said I should be fully healed by next week,”

“Until then you should be resting,” You roll your eyes at Shoutas statement, turning to then pluck a shirt from your pile of laundry to fold,

“Take your own advance, honey. You haven’t slept a full night in three weeks,” You turn, hand at your hip, “Why don’t we call Hizashi and let him take Akari for a day or two? Give us time to rest?”

“If you want another kid, just ask,” Shouta smirks, your lips parting as he moves around you, laying Akari in her own bed in the corner,

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,”

“Do I, though?” Shoutas hands rest at your hips, and you smile, hand at his jaw to pull his lips against yours.

“Seriously, though,” You hum, “Hizashi would love to see his god daughter. I promised Thirteen I’d help her with her own recovery,”

“I swear you love Thirteen more than me,”

“Oh, definitely. No questions asked,”

“Fine, go ask her for another kid,”

“Nah, I like my kids to have your attitude,”

“Oh, sure,”

“Really!”

[yourcreepyneighborhoodelftwink]

Okay, I know I just rbed a post and rambled in the tags about it, but let's talk about my

Ticci-Toby mouth guard HCs!

(disclaimer I have no idea what Kastoway said about it, but I also don't care, this is a Kastoway hostile zone)

Now, I don't know if it's INTENTIONAL or not, but it always reminded me of the mouth guard/muzzle Hannibal Lecter wears in Silence of the Lambs during the prison transfer.

Comparison is pretty striking, right?

So, the main concern I would have is breathability and the ability to talk. His mouth is COMPLETELY covered, as opposed to Hannibal there having a mouth window. If he has a stuffy nose, the boi is gonna suffocate. In addition, it'd have to be something hard, but lightweight. Unlike the Hannibal getup just keeping him from chomping people for a short transfer, it appears that Toby wears it CONSTANTLY, he can't get away with something as heavy or cumbersome as leather, but it has to be more durable than plastic.

And then it hit me: Fiberglass! I've worked with fiberglass for cosplays a few times, it's a more TECHNICAL skill that takes a bit of time to get right, but it's pretty cheap (the base core just requires enough cereal boxes or other thin cardboard to make the shape, and the resin isn't very expensive), less DIFFICULT and more just time consuming if you know what you're doing, and can lead to some pretty durable, hard pieces that are easy to paint and with just a little cloth or even a bit of foam, very comfortable to wear for extended periods of time! (my crowning achievement with it is a hard chest piece for a Mettaton cosplay!)

So, what I imagine is this:

I GENERALLY draw a more simplified version of it without the individual slats, but I DO feel like they're there. I feel like the smaller slats are more of an aesthetic choice than anything else? But there is a large window with just cloth and the slats to allow breathability like your average cloth mask.

As for WHY he wears it? I think it's a combination of being self conscious over his large mouth scar, an effort to correct harmful stimming, and aesthetic appeal.

Self conscious: I feel like he doesn't let people see his mouth scar often. Even if you stick with him having amnesia (not everyone does, which is valid), he's still got the trauma from being bullied. And if they teased him relentlessly over some tics, then him having a gash like that will turn his life into a NIGHTMARE--or at least, that's what his brain tells him. He probably wouldn't want to show his face to just anyone, he would prefer to know he can trust the person.

Correcting behavior: He lives as a proxy, and no matter how you hc that, he's likely out in the forest or other unsanitary places for extended periods of time. He also canonically chews on himself, that's a lot of what starts his story rolling. I personally hc it as a stim, but more akin to Self Injurious Behavior. It's something he uses when he's seeking more sensory input, control over the sensory input he's getting, a way to calm his racing thoughts, a way to communicate distress his conscious thoughts can't quite catch up with, or any combination of the above. However, when he's in the woods with all manner of germs, and also doing some dirty work (he's a proxy and a murderer, blood, hello), open wounds that he can't feel pain on and have to be cleaned, bandaged, and constantly monitored for infection aren't exactly helpful. Having a comfortable barrier over his mouth, as well as gloves on his hands, prevents him from successfully biting himself, at least anywhere but something inside his mouth. It's probably used in conjunction with other stim toys, and probably not uncommon to find he has some chewlery stuffed inside it

Aesthetic appeal: Dude, it just looks fucking rad. Do you SEE that thing? Boi probably SLAVED over making it, sanding it, giving it comfortable straps, painting it... It just looks REALLY cool