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aphroditestempleimagines · 6 months

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I burn for you

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader - 18+

Words: 3574

Warnings: jealous, yelling, cursing, passionate sex, rough sex, possessive behaviour (borderline yandere themes but consent guys nothing too wild), rubbing, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem!receiving), spanking, gropping, restraints (hands), orgasm denial, overstimulation (tiny bit), nipple play

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. In your sorrow you slept with his old, now criminal, friend Suguru Getou. You did not know just how much this would hurt Gojo.

Colour: Hot, rough and very angsty as always

His love series - part 2

Author's note: i'm at the ssn office for the 100th time and this time I'm writing smut. Joke's on them, i'm having fun this time, not gonna cry over them.

You lay on the couch as the slight footprints of Getou's cursed energy were washed away by the tide of time. If you could focus you could still feel the warmth of his embrace as it enveloped you. You could recall the safety of his arms as he planted a small kiss on the crown of your hair. Your hand glided over the cushions. Your heart ached. You would never have imagined that the memory of only one night could linger so much in your mind. Flashbacks of his love popped randomly in your head, from the way he caressed your skin to the words he whispered in your ear.

Gojo would never do that.

A knock on the door. You were not expecting anyone. You readied your fist with cursed energy behind your back as you looked through the eyelet. It was Gojo. You put out the spell and opened the door.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?", he said coldly, "You left in the middle of the faculty dinner"

"And you honestly can't think of a reason why I left?", you responded harshly.

"What are you talking about?", he crossed his arms.

"You turned me into a joke, Satoru!", you yelled at his face. He looked left and right, checking the corridor.

"You don't have to yell, let's talk about this inside", he placed his hands on your arms.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep looking the other way when you keep parading around as if you're this prized bachelor", tears of frustration spilled from your eyes in front of his shocked face, "And what the hell was that about wishing you were never engaged to me? I'm sorry Satoru. I'm sorry I'm such a BURDEN to you. I didn't choose this either but at least I'm TRYING to be DECENT!"

You heaved as you spat the last words. Everything you wanted to tell him spilled out like a cataract. He lowered his head. "I didn't mean it like that", he said. His eyes reached up and removed his blindfold, letting his hair fall in front of his frozen blue eyes. "I only meant....I....", he tried to find his words, "I'm sorry, I can see how it must have sounded but....", he raised his head to meet your gaze, but as he finished the sentence he saw something else as well. Like hypnotized he moved past you and towards the living room.

Your heart clenched. You knew already what he must have noticed. Gojo's eyes were not like anyone else's. He could detect cursed energy better than anyone else; no matter if the individual to whom it belonged was around or not.

He turned slowly, his eyes lingering on the floor again for a while before he raised them to meet yours. Instead of simply hurt, they now seemed betrayed.

"Who was here?", he asked but you knew he had already guessed.

You did not respond. He looked around, probably checking with his six eyes whether Getou was still in the apartment. You saw the sadness being painted on his face as he realized his friend was once again long gone. His gaze fell on the empty bottle of sake Getou had left behind.

"Were you drinking?", he asked puzzled.

"Does it matter?"

"Why was he here?", he approached you.

"Nothing, just visiting"

"How much did you have to drink?", he waited for a while but even without you speaking he got his answer. "Did you sleep with him?"

You walked back to close the door. The neighbors did not have to hear this as well. "You're being ridiculous", you told him.

"So you did", he rubbed his beautiful blue eyes, urging the tremble in his voice to calm down, "I can't believe he'd take advantage of you like this, he's changed for sure". He turned his back on you.

"He didn't take advantage of me!", you objected this time, "I wanted to-"

"That's even worse!", Satoru cried.

"Why do you care?", you screamed back at him, "You have Utahime and all the others you like to chase to pretend you're a fucking playboy"

"Fuck Utahime"

"I bet you have"

He turned back to face you, his eyes wide open.

You took a deep breath. "I understand that this engagement has been hard for you and you might think things were taken away from you", you avoided his gaze, "But do you think it isn't for me? I'm stuck with someone who not only does not love me but is also showing it off."

You peaked at his response. His face had straightened out, all the clownery he usually put on suddenly washed out. He moved closer.

"I don't love you?", he said mockingly.

You scoffed. He did not. You continued smiling until you realized how close he had gotten. You showed your anger in your face again.

"Are you expecting me to believe that you do?", you shot.

"I'm not the one who's been sleeping around"

"Do you think I'm stupid Satoru?"

His left hand pulled you by the waist, his right by the nape. He crashed his lips with yours into a deep kiss that took your breath away. You were still recovering from the shock when he tore himself apart to take a breath, the hot air collapsing on your cheeks as he heaved.

"I don't love you? Is that it? I've hurt you?", he said and you only then noticed the complicated feelings buried beneath the frozen lake of his eyes. You could have sworn you could just make out some tears forming at the brim. "I have loved only two people in my life. And they fell in love with each other"

You gave him a confused look. "What are you sayi-'"

He kissed you again, this time using his body to crash your forms onto the front door. He lodged his knee between your legs, all the while caressing your body.

"Satoru-"

"I love you", he kissed your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. He slowly unraveled the tie of your robe and pushed it over your shoulders. "I love you so much I have to stay away from you", he said burying his fingers in your hair.

"Satoru...", you placed your hand on his head, threding your fingers between his silver locks. You carefully peeled him away from your torso. "Don't do this", tears brimmed from your eyes, "Don't let this be a lie".

He climbed back up. He was so tall, he towered over you. He took your hands in his and pressed them against the door, fingers entwining together. "I would never lie about this", he said against your lips. He kissed you again. "I lost him, I'm not losing you", he said determined, "I don't care if you don't love me. Just promise me you'll stay. Promise me you'll never leave me. I can't let you go. I won't let you go."

He alternated between words and kisses as his hands dove underneath your clothes to taste the warmth of your skin. You were losing your breath. He did not let go of your lips long enough for you to think.

"Gojo..."

"Did you call him by his last name too?", he growled against your neck. He turned your body around. His arms embraced your form, his hand sneaking down the collar of your shirt as he kissed your shoulder. He buried his face in your hair, but you could still hear the tremble of his breath. "He can't have you", he said, "He's taken away so much from me and I still wasn't able to hate him. But this is too much"

Some stray tears streamed down your face. "Bastard", you told him, "Couldn't you have said that once in all these years?"

He tightened his grip as if he feared you were ready to leave him behind. "I could", he touched his forehead to your shoulder, "I'm sorry".

"Gojo"

"No"

"Satoru"

He nipped at your neck in approval. His large hand cupped your face, thumb caressing your cheek.

"Do you love Suguru?", you asked. He sighed but did not respond. "Do you hate him?", you asked again.

"I will if he takes you away"

"If I leave", you said, "it'd be because you pushed me to"

He tightened his grip again. "I won't let that happen", he said.

"It's already been happening"

He caught his breath. "Do you want to leave?", he asked. It was clear he had to force his arms to loosen their embrace. He did not speak; he barely breathed as he waited for your answer.

"Don't let me go", you finally said, voice trembling.

He wasted no time to pull you back into his arms. One hand turned your head towards him so he could catch your lips in a passionate kiss, the other dove underneath your trousers until its fingers reached far enough to play with your bud. You moaned as his tongue entwined with yours. You could feel the hardness growing in his trousers as he pressed your bodies together. He scraped your lower lips with the back of his digits until he finally thrust one of them inside. His hand lifted your chin and he nipped on your neck and shoulder. You threw your arm back until you hooked it over his nape, keeping his lips close to your skin. He thrust another finger inside you. He curled the two of them together, scraping your walls with their pads. He took notice of your change in breath and gropped your breast underneath your cotton shirt. His one thumb circled your nipple as his other played with your clit. His hands slowly peeled away your clothes, discarding them along with his own. His knee urged your legs apart.

"Bend your knees", he whispered.

You did not understand the reason but you were too drunk in him not to do so. He crashed his fish with his palm in front of you and suddenly you were falling onto your bed. He pulled your body so that you sat on his thighs, back on his chest. He drew your panties to the side, his nail scraping on your bud back and forth.

"Don't tease me", you trembled.

"Where's the fun in that?", he touched his cheek to yours, "You're so hot right now".

"Then get on with it", your voice caught as you clenched around his scissored fingers, "I need you inside me"

"How many times did he make you come?"

He entered another finger. He had set up a proper pace but his question dispersed your clouded thoughts.

"What?"

"How many times did Suguru make you come?", Satoru asked again, "I'm not stopping until I make your body at least remember who will treat it best"

"Satoru"

"Two? Three?", he pinched your breast, his fingers plunging faster between your walls.

"Ngh, two"

Gojo scoffed. "That's weak"

You could not catch your breath. His hands were touching you in all the right places. His teeth grazed your skin every other moment, sending an ecstatic shiver all over your limbs. Your hips chased his fingers as they left your walls, only for your legs to trap his hand between them once he thrust them back in. You were so close. You circled your bud until your body began to tremble in the break of your orgasm. You came over his fingers and he traced their wetness over your torso, from your legs to your lips. In the last moment, he pulled them away and shoved them inside his mouth in an emphatic display. He took hold of your arms and restrained them with one hand behind your back. He reached for a pillow and let your head rest upon it as he had you on your knees.

"Don't cheat", he planted his face on your core, tracing your lower lips with a line of kisses. His silver hair tickled your skin. His tongue delved deeper inside your walls. You buried your moans into the pillow. He opened your entrance further with his other hand and placed another kiss.

He took a moment to breathe as he cupped your core. Then he returned his lips to your entrance, his hand reaching to free his erection. He pumped it at the sound of your moans, his thumb tracing the precum leaking from the top.

"Do you want me?", his warm breath collapsed against your core.

"Yes", you breathed, "I want you Satoru"

He seemed to take courage to continue at the sound of that. "I want you too", he said, "I need you so much it's killing me. But I need you to come one more time first". He flicked your bud with his tongue. "Think you can do that?"

You buried your face in the pillow once more. Your cheeks were too red to show your face to him. "Mhm", you squealed as his tongue traced your folds again.

"That's my girl", he whispered in a low tone before he concentrated fully on extracting another orgasm out of you.

Your body instinctively tried to wiggle out of his grip but it was no use. Your legs squeezed together. He let go of his length. He grabbed your thigh and pulled your core towards his lips. You could not soften your moans even with the pillow. Not anymore. You turned your head to the side and cried out loud as you lost your mind in the depths of pleasure. That only seemed to edge him on. His fingers rubbed on your clit vigorously and that was enough to send you over the hill. You heaved as your body climbed down from euphoria, your juices trailing down your thighs.

Satoru pressed your sensitive clit with his thumb. Your body twitched. He let go of your hands and took you into his arms again. You gave him a smile to let him know you were alright, a response that liberated his held breath. He reached forward and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?", his words dripped with lust in your ear.

You had a pretty good idea what you were doing to him. In fact, you could feel it pressing on the small of your back as he held you close. Your hand reached behind you for his nape. The sense of his hair entwining between your fingers reassured you that this was real.

"Satoru", you looked up to him, "Do you really love me?"

Your question seemed to catch him by surprise. He touched his forehead to yours. "I adore you", he said, "Why won't you believe me?"

"Cause", you averted your eyes, "You're Satoru Gojo"

He caught his breath. His brows furrowed. He let you slide out of his arms and pulled himself up to lay on the bed. He placed his hands at your waist and lifted you up; to your surprise he placed you on top of him, letting his body fall underneath yours.

"What are you doing?", he led your hands on his.

He smiled. "I'm setting myself at the mercy of the woman stronger than Satoru Gojo"

"The hell are you talking about?"

He placed your hands over his heart, then pulled at them so you'd bent closer. "You've defeated me", he said, giving you a kiss, "I'm yours as much as you're mine".

You squeezed his hands. You guided them onto the mattress and realised he was letting you. Those brilliant blue eyes were looking up at you with adoration. The heart you once believed to be hollow, beated loudly underneath his bare chest. Your eyes grew wide. This monster of a man who kept jujutsu society in order under the mere fear of his power's immense strength, was now sitting below you, voluntarily helpless, and you knew he would not cower to fulfil any demand you made. It was a strange sort of power he had placed upon your lap and it was exhilarating.

"Do you understand now?", he asked sternly. He smiled at your nod. "I'm in pain when I'm around you", he smirked, "Will you help me?"

You chuckled. "You jackass"

He smiled as he opened the package of a condom with his teeth. You lifted your hips as he carefully rolled it down his length. Your hair fell round his face. He traced your lower lips with his tip; up and down, up and down, until your body trembled and your hips chased him.

"Satoru", you whined, "put it in"

He gave you a kiss. "What my love wants, my love gets", he said as he plunged his length between your walls. He guided your hips downwards until he bottomed out and held you still. You tried to wiggle your hips but he would not let you. His lips kept chasing yours, each kiss deeper than the previous one. "This is why I was trying to stay away from you", he said, "You're worse than alcohol"

"What are you talkikg about?", you tried to move your hips again.

He lifted you up enough to slam you back down. You tried to catch your breath at the sudden roughness. "I wanted you to experience life before we were bound together. But I can't do that anymore", he said, "I can't share you with some rando now that I've tasted your sweetness. I'm already drunk."

Once again he lifted you up, but this time he slammed his hips towards you as he brought you down. Your hand pressed at the mattress next to his head.

"Satoru..."

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you're never gonna want another dick in that tight pussy of yours", he breathed against your lips, "Would you like that?"

"Yes...", you felt your body catch ablaze.

He ran his hands on your sweated form, a mischievous smile on his face. He started moving your hips, twisting them slightly to drag his full length along your velvet walls. You fought the overwhelming haze that clouded your thoughts as he bounced you harder and harder against his cock. You brought your hand to wrap around his throat. He groaned. You felt him twitch inside you. You planted your knees more firmly and moved your hips on your own. Satoru smirked. Now he could thrust his own his up to meet yours. His eyes drank your reddened face, his ears your cries of pleasure; They joined his heart in the drunkenness that was you and he wished he would never be sober again.

His hands climbed up to your chest. He cupped your breasts with his hands, his thumbs pressing and circling their rosey diamond peaks. You were losing your breath. Satoru's body alone, spread like a magnificent artwork between your legs, was enough to drive your mind crazy. But as he drove his rock-hard length inside your folds your mind climbed up to a sky higher than the one you lived under.

You bend your body closer to him once again. You panted against his lips before you claimed them for yours. He moved one of his hands to your clit. He used his thumb to press and circle your bud. You bit his lip; he groaned. You could feel how his long length pulsated inside you as his pace grew quicker.

He stopped. You whined as he moved your hips circularly, making you feel every crevice of his member.

"Say that you want me", he rasped as he held you close to him by the nape.

"I want you"

He moved your hips once, then stopped again. "Say that you need me", his demand was as desperate as your answer.

"Ngn...Satoru, I need you!"

He picked up the pace again. His thrusts seemed even more mindblowing than before. He kissed your neck, grazing his teeth over your skin, covering the marks Geto had left with his own. You gasped as he drove his fingers alongside his length. You could not take it anymore. The knot within you was cut cleanly under the thrusts of his sword and you let your juices flow down on his fingers. He fucked you through your orgasm; it was not long before he came as well. His moans and grunts filled your ears as he wrapped his hands around you, burying his flushed face under the cover of your hair. You buried your fingers in his silver locks, pulling the strands as his convulsions hit your sensitized g-spot. You panted in each other's embrace, neither of you willing to let go.

"Y/n", he finally said between pants.

"Yes?"

He continued heaving in your ear, his hand petting your hair as he pressed his cheek to yours. He pulled away, taking your face in his large hands. He seemed terrified to speak; as if what he had to say would change the course of history. He swallowed.

"I love you". His eyes were dead serious as he spoke those words. "I love you", he said again to engrave the message in your mind.

You felt the tears sting your eyes. You watched them land on his reddened face.

"I love you too", your voice was strangled by your emotions. He meant it. He really meant it.

He pulled you into his arms once more. He held you like a desperate man as he hid his face behind you. "Then please", he said, "Stay"

#gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen

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theatrum-tenebrarum · 2 years

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Misunderstanding Lucifer from the Sandman series and why Gwendoline Christie is the right choice (an art historian and occultist's opinion)

I am writing this post as I'm absolutely baffled by the issues people seem to have with the portrayal of the character of Lucifer in the Sandman series. For some reason people find it problematic that the fallen angel is played by Gwendoline Christie, a powerful and androgynous-looking woman, but there is seemingly no problem with Lucifer being played by a black-haired man in the nightclub business (Tom Ellis in the Netflix series 'Lucifer'). Don't get me wrong, Tom Ellis is entertaining and wonderful to watch, but that particular version of Lucifer is neither canon when it comes to the comics nor does it have anything to do with the actual angel Lucifer.

Angels are genderless beings and they have always been portrayed as androgynous in the history of art. Multiple literary sources, including grimoires (books with supposed instructions on how to summon these beings and many others), state that angelic beings as well as demons are able to change their appearance. Many of those forms they might take aren't even humanoid and they can choose not to show any physical form at all. They aren't corporeal beings, the fact that they do take on any resemblance of a physical form is just so humans can understand them better. That's why we've been painting them as human-like ever since the early times of human civilization. What we make to be similar to us is what makes it comprehensible. Portraying beings from other dimensions/realms as human-like but with androgynous features is a way to show they don't belong in the physical dimension, as gender is likely a non-existent concept in other realms of existence. Androgyny of mythical beings, therefore, emphasizes the fact they are different than physical beings such as humans.

Therefore, when portraying an angelic being in art, or in any type of media, making them androgynous is making way for their essence to come through. In a way, the same applies to the way elves are portrayed as ethereal and androgynous since they don't have to be corporeal beings at all, at least when it comes to folklore. I know this opinion might not be understandable to others or it might sound controversial, but I believe that not portraying an angelic being as androgynous and not showing any signs of their divine origin (these include mannerisms that emphasize their etheriality for example, a cadence in their voice that is different etc.) is a huge missed opportunity that might rob these interesting mythical beings of what they are. Not making angels feel like angels beats the point of having an angel character (in a movie, series or video game for example) in the first place.

This is why Gwendoline Christie is the right choice. At a height of 6′ 3″ (1.91 m), captivatingly pale. androgynous with a powerful specific sort of grace and presence - a perfect 'vessel' for the Morning Star. What's more, she understands the importance, complexity, grandeur and the mythical dimension of the figure of Lucifer, as well as the whole 'spirituality' of the Sandman universe which is rather evident from her approach to this role and the interviews she has given so far. I might go so far to say that, even though the Sandman series isn't even out yet (though there is some footage available already), the casting of Gwendoline as Lucifer feels right just as the casting of Lee Pace as Thranduil in the Hobbit felt right and I consider the character of Thranduil to be the best portrayal of a humanoid mythical being on TV. Lee felt like an elven king, moved like an elven king, spoke like an elven king and radiated an energy of the dimension the elven king might have come from (I'm talking about the folkloric 'Otherworld' where elves supposedly live). I feel the same might apply to Gwendoline and Lucifer.

As an occultist, art historian, anthropologist and someone who is rather fond of the figure of Lucifer, I am looking forward to seeing how Gwendoline interprets him. Finally, we might get something completely different from a frequently portrayed 'demonic' side/version of this important mythical character. We might just see the Light Bringer who has not forgotten his divine origin.

- Heidi (@theatrum-tenebrarum)

Gwendoline Christie as Lucifer (The Sandman series on Netflix, out 5th August 2022)

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silentcryracha · 4 months

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❍ ‗ SKZ + What they love on you (fashion) ‗ ❍

Pairings : OT8 x reader

Genre/warnings : skz simp agenda. Fluff, lots of compliments and sweet boys. no smut but it's definitely suggestive (18+), boobs and ass are mentioned and reader is female presenting

Summary : Which items of clothing (or related things) I think would drive the boys insane when you're wearing them

Word count : 1.8k

A/n : None <3

masterlist

ps: No beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan ‗ ❍

- This man would adore you regardless. He's one of those guys who would find it 10x times more sexy or romantic seeing you just being yourself in an intimate setting, like a house, some sort of trip, going grocery shopping and so on. Plus 10+ points if you happen to be wearing something of his.

- Yeah, wear one of his hoodies or shirts and he's already GONE. He's a (simp)le man. Or his beanie, jackets, scarf, anything that could look good on you tbh.

- But hear me out: also his accessories like his famous stay bracelet, or you could even be lovey doveys and share one earring each.

- NAIL POLISH!! Let him paint your nails for you and do silly little designs on them! You'd have so much fun, he'd giggle so much and end you playing with your hands at random times reminiscing the memories.

- Now onto what would ACTUALLY get him going: I think that either a really really nice dress (like a cocktail or party dress) would make Chan go CRAZYYY

- Bonus points if it's black and hugs your body perfectly. Even more if some skin is showing. V neck, shoulders, low back. He LOVES seeing you dolled up and confident and would make sure to boost the energy as much as he can because you deserve it and he wants to make his girl the most beautiful in the world <3

- Okay now hear me out, seems quite specific but random at the same time BUT, what about side boob. You know those loose sleeveless shirts/tank tops? Like the sporty ones? If you ever wore one of those he would NOT be able to control himself. Imagine if you're not wearing anything underneath tho 🫠

- The side boob + nipple shadow peeking...oh he's HARD and only an emergency fuck can fix it for him I fear

Minho ‗ ❍

- Anything that shows your skin is free real estate for this man. Shoulder? Neck? Collarbones? He's gonna BITE.

- Oh but not only. Imagine wearing something that exposes your legs (and maybe some thighs) like shorts or a mini dress, skirts and so on.

- He's so unhinged like he would purposefully drop his keys or something and leave a bite on the side of your thigh when he crunches down. If he's feeling romantic he'd go for a lil kiss but his goal is to make you flustered nonetheless.

- Speaking of touch and kisses: he'd make sure to get his mouth literally everywhere. Picking up your hand to linger his lips on your palm, back, wrist or forearm, fingers.

- Moving your hair to the side to kiss the back and side of your neck. Yeah 🤒

- In general I don't think he has specific preferences in fashion? I just think that he'd love to see you confident and comfortable in whatever you want to wear.

Changbin ‗ ❍

- You're either his little precious porcelain doll or his emo bad bitch. Nor in between. Man CAN do both and can HAVE both.

- I feel like Changbin (like all the others tbh) would be happy seeing you comfortable and confident. Which doesn't necessarily needs to tie with fashion or your looks.

- BUT☝🏻 he'd be a sucker for a good aesthetic look. He'd lose his mind fr, worshipping the ground you walk on, being loud about how HOT his girlfriend his and all that. As he should!

- As I was saying, he'd like both someone who's extremely feminine and delicate, doll like almost. Soft make up, lots of girly clothes, dresses, skirts, stockings, cute hats and accessories.

- But also someone who gives off the same 'dark/emo' vibe that he gives off at first glance. Lots of black, leather, dark colors, laces, a stronger make up, some edgy accessories.

- And a resting bitch face that would make anyone run but NOT HIM! You'd look like a cupcake to him regardless. He'd go around gushing and fighting his cute aggression for you by just existing.

- Now, a little treat that would most likely (and fortunately for you😵‍💫) get him turned on would be a GOOD pair of jeans. Either some very tight jeans or some cargo style ones, as long as they show off the delicious curve of your ass he's gone. It's literally over for him.

- Trust him to be EMBARRASSINGLY turned on by this, to the point where he'd ask you to wear some just for him, he'd buy them for you and so on. Your body and your ass are already his constant thought and motivation while he works out so might as well fuel his own delulu fantasies by providing the material, am I right?

Hyunjin ‗ ❍

- Once again, he loves you as you are and would be happy just knowing you comfortable in your own skin. But that won't stop him to try and dress you up like his personal model.

- He would never force on you something, especially if it was something that would make you uncomfortable. But he would give you some suggestions here and there, on how to mix and match some items, which colors he thinks compliment you the most.

- He would love to see you being so confident and happy in the results, too. Just like a painter adding details to his masterpiece.

- I lowkey feel like, since we got Mr. Romantic and artsy boy on our hands, I kinda feel like he'd lose if he saw you wearing something more... ethereal? Like a specifically made dress. It could be the soft palette, the delicacy of laces and pearls, the perfect way that the draping compliments your body and falls perfectly.

- His own personal princess. Yes, I think that he would love to either have you as his personal hot catwalk style model or a literal princess that came out of a painting.

- Speaking of art. You're also his muse, of course. And few things to him are equally as aesthetically pleasing as certified turn on for him like your chest.

- He does love lingerie on you, BUT, if you really want to make him drop on his knees on the spot, just wear one of those pretty corsets. You know, the ones with laces, and ribbons. This is for the bedroom though.

- He'd get equally as horny with any type of garment that gave the same effect though. Like a sweetheart neckline paired with a good bra. A low v neckline dress, a slightly unbuttoned plain shirt. Oh yes.

- Hyune tits man agenda going strong and I'll die on this hill.

Jisung ‗ ❍

- He's a homebody. Being at home and domestic is probably his favorite place after being on stage. I feel like his perfect day would be chilling and having fun at home, where you're most free and comfortable.

- Which is why, while I of course think that Jisung would foam at the mouth with you being all sexy and dressed up, he'd as easily get turned on by a simple home outfit.

- Yoga pants showing your ass, shorts showing your thighs, long oversized t shirts showing legs AND thighs. Bonus if the stuff is his. Bonus X2 if you're not wearing anything underneath.

- Yes absolutely that's enough for him. He loves a nice put up together outfit but would that allow him to take you on the nearest surface and make an absolute mess of you without a care in the world? Probably not, so there you go, you got yourself a winner

- You wearing his old glasses (since he doesn't need them anymore) or even your own glasses get him turned on. Don't ask, he's a pervert.

Felix ‗ ❍

- Felix seems like he has a taste for expensive things. Especially fashion and accessories wise.

- He'd drool seeing you sport a very high fashion item, like peculiarly cut out dress or jacket, something quite unique. He loves seeing you looking like a literal model straight out of a magazine. And would love even more to match with you.

- The matching would be valid for the accessories too. You would share pretty much everything, from the earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, watches, hats, gloves and so on. He'd insist to have always something matching with you.

- In a more intimate setting though, something that you can never go wrong with are pretty sleeping gowns, lingerie sets, silky and lacy pajamas. Something very girly, dollish, delicate, almost innocent. Strictly in pale and pastel colors. He would love to buy them for you, too. As his personal treat.

- The sight of you wearing such a delicate but expensive as fuck bralette and panties that he knows he could rip off of you with his own teeth just makes him nearly cum in his pants.

Seungmin ‗ ❍

- Seungmin would get off on the confidence that you show to others. Whether it is a façade or you're really just a bad bitch, he finds it extremely hot.

- He goes crazy when you dress up smartly, elegantly, and maybe, just a tad provocative.

- A normal blouse, elegant. But that shows just enough cleavage when you move or bend in certain ways. Cigarette pants perfectly ironed, peofessional. But that make the curve of your ass so delicious. A normal pair of black Louboutines, with that sexy red heels.

- It makes him hard because he feels superior in knowing exactly what's behind that façade and that he's the only one that you'd be willing to drop it for.

- Extra points if he saw you getting ready and you're the only two people in the room who know that a pretty, lacy red lingerie set is hiding under all those elegant and composed clothes. You'd get him thinking about it all night.

- I also feel like he'd have a thing for your legs being shown off and your nais being done, maybe even when you're wearing a particular perfume. Maybe HIS, perfume.

Jeongin ‗ ❍

- Jeongin would be a sucker for you acting cool. Like standing there with some sporty clothes and a pair of sunglasses and a nice perfume. That's enough for him to simp HARD.

- He'd love to go shopping together and purposefully buy stuff that you could easily switch and match with each other. You're boyfriend and girlfriend yes but you are COOL boyfriend and girlfriend ykwim.

- In a more formal setting, he particularly loves when you wear dresses that have low cuts. Somewhere. Whether is a frontal low cut, a side low cut, a back low cut, or a high slit on the bottom part.

- The idea that all it would take for him to take it off you is just a flick of his fingers gets him CRAZY. Especially if they are dresses that require to not wear a bra.

- All that bare back, shoulders, neck, chest...idk man in his opinion it should all be covered in kisses, licks and bruises IMMEDIATELY.

- Bonus if you wear a high slit dress and you make him understand that you're not wearing panties underneath. Now you're in for a treat...

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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namorslutfanfiction · 1 year

Note

Hi if you're still taking request. Can I request a Namor x reader where reader and namor are married and reader is one of the people got turned to dust because of the snap and Namor just don't know what to do. 5 years later reader came back to him what would he's reaction be?

Thank you for the request

Summary: 5 years without you was worse than anything he had ever experienced.

ANGST

In ajawo - my king

In reina - my queen

in yakunaj - my love

in amado - my beloved

Aateni - help me

It had happened so suddenly it took Namor a moment to realize that you were truly gone. You were together at the time. In the tent in the cave where he kept most of his paintings. The two of you had been laughing when your expression suddenly changed. You stumbled and he caught you.

"In yakunaj? What is it?" He asked as he guided you to a chair, worry etched into his brow. You had a faraway look in your eyes that made his stomach drop.

"In ajawo' something is happening," You stuttered and gripped his hands like your life depended on it. "Aateni' K'uk'ulkan."

His heart clenched at the call for help as he was at a loss on how to do just that. Then right before his eyes you crumbled into dust. He looked around himself like you would suddenly reappear. He tore up the room and the surrounding caves, calling your name. But when reality sank in, he broke. The howl that the king let out rang through all of Talokan as others in the underwater civilization also vanished.

The Talokan King ventured to the surface when he couldn't find any answers in the sea. What he found was the same suffering and loss. He learned of what the alien Thanos had done. Nothing would bring you back. Nothing would bring anyone back. Any hope he may have harbored was now turned to ashes.

For the first year, no one but Namora saw the king. He secluded himself and wallowed in his grief. Allowed himself to feel the anger and loss and guilt. Your last words, your plea for him to save you to help you rang in his ears. Though Namora told him there was nothing he could have done, that did not sooth his aching and yearning soul.

On the anniversary of what the surface dwellers called 'the blip', Namor showed himself to his people once more. He wore his ceremonial garb and they held an official funeral for all those who had been turned to dust. Enough time had passed and it was time to let go. At least that is what he told his people, but at night he held your clothes close to him and prayed for your return.

The King remained detached and always stoic. He no longer swam the streets of Talokan and greeted his people. Nor was he ever seen outside the palace or his caves. No one blamed him. They all knew how he loved his Queen and her loss was felt by all.

The grief and sadness held Namor in such a grasp that he did not smile until over four years had passed. As time passed he had chosen to make room in his heart for the love of his people again. A small child had bumped into him on one of his few ventures into the city to see his people. But the smallest of smiles had finally alighted upon his face at the fright on the boy's face and his repeated apologies. He had patted the young boy and eased him.

Namor was learning to live without you in the smallest ways. He had made a conscious effort to leave the palace and caves more often. To be a more active hand in ruling his people. Seeing them moving forward with life while honoring those who left were a balm for the ever aching parts of his heart. In time he allowed himself to see the surface and the sun again. He knew you would have wanted that.

~~~

Namor was sitting on a beach, listening for any changes in the world. He knew the war against Thanos was waging somewhere, he could feel it. The energy that suddenly rippled through the world sent a hope through him that he dared not take hold of. He ran full pelt across the beach and dove back into the sea.

When he resurfaced in his caves and made it to the tent he paused. His heart was racing and hope had truly sprung up inside of him. But if he pushed this curtain and you weren't there he would be undone.

"K'uk'ulkan?" Your soft voice came from inside the tent, hesitant and frightened. A second ago he had been at your side and now you were alone.

The King almost fell to his knees at the sound of your voice. A sound he had feared he would forget as years passed without you. He threw open the curtain and you turned to him. You were standing at the table looking worried. Before you could speak Namor took three long strides and pulled you into his arms in a an embrace that spoke of longing and so much love. A sob escaped his lips as his legs gave way.

You knelt with him and held him to you as he sobbed like a child into your neck. You gripped ahold of him, soothingly running your hands through his hair as you felt tears well in your own eyes at the sound of his anguish. Namor pulled away and took your face in his shaking hands and looked at you with tears staining his cheeks.

"In amado, in reina, you have returned to me," Namor choked out the words before kissing you fiercely. Although confused you knew that something terrible had happened between the moment you had felt like something was wrong and his sudden disappearance to the entrance of the tent. You kissed him back and then held his face in your own hands.

"In ajawo, K'uk'ulkan, my love, I am here. Whatever happened to cause you this pain, I am here to make it go away," You whispered to him as he nuzzled his cheek against your palm.

"You were gone from me. You and half of the world. We have been grieving your loss and so many others for five years. I do not want to live in that world again. In a world without you," Namor's voice was low and broken. He was trying to calm his gut wrenching sobs as he explained what had happened and why you had disappeared.

The King held you close as he recounted what he knew and that he suspected that Thanos had now been defeated. Your heart broke as he described the mourning and grief that he and Talokan had suffered through. You had lost five years in a moment but he had been alone that whole time. You kissed him again, lingering so he could truly feel that you were there. He clutched on to you as though you would slip through his fingers again if he let go.

"I will never leave you again, my love. I promise you," You looked around you and could see that time had indeed passed. The tent was not as organized as you liked it. The king's paints were haphazard and there were unclean brushes sitting in places they shouldn't. Then you noticed the new mural that to you had not been there a moment ago. It was you; a detailed and intricate portrait of you in your ceremonial dress.

"I painted this the first year you were gone. I would come here and talk to you, imagining you were listening. I had no hope that you would ever return," he pressed his forehead to your temple and you cupped his cheek as you took in the painting.

"Why did you wait for me? I would have understood if you moved on. Talokan is always in need of a queen," You asked him, looking into his dark eyes.

"There was no queen before you and there will be none after you. There is only you, in reina," He did not explain any further.

Tears leaked out of the corner of your eye at his devotion. You pulled him in for a longer more passionate kiss. Pouring all you had into showing him how much you loved him. It broke a dam in the king and he kissed you hungrily. Like a starving man needing air he was desperate for your touch. Namor hoisted you onto the table and continued kissing you as his hands ran up and down your body.

Then he paused for a moment and leaned back, taking in the sight of you with swollen lips, a flushed face and neck, and your eyes dark with desire and he smiled a full wide smile for the first time in 5 years.

...

Alrighty, I think that's good right?

All comments, reblogs, and reviews feed me.

#namor #namor x oc #namor x reader #namorslutfanfiction #namorfanfic #angst

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saturnbellfromhell · 11 months

Text

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS IV

Hello! Welcome back to some obersvations for the month of May! I've been super inspired since I've started working in a new firm and got to meet many new colleges. So I hope you enjoy the content and always feel free to comment your opinions and observations!

〰️ DISCLAIMLER

These are my personal, subjective views on some placements and signs. If you disagree, feel free to discuss it down below and not take everything personally.

With that being said, let's get started!

💧PISCES SUN/RISING

These people just sniff out each other the second they lock eyes with one another. It's this familiar family they all crave to feel and it's finally in front of their face. They feel at peace and at home with other Pisces dominant people. They have these glossy eyes filled with mystery and warmth. Every Pisces Sun/Rising/Dominant person I've met has some sort of artistic talent, that being: painting, drawing, sculpting, writing, play any instrument..etc. They are so in tune with the details of life others strive to see. I also think they can be such big day dreamers, introverts and tragically lovley people.

💧MOON IN AQUARIUS

This placement can seem very distant, raw and viewed as a lonely wolf but on the contrary it's a whole different story. Aquarius rules the 11th house, which is the house of community, society, shortly speaking friendships. So having a Moon in this sign really means having a collective feeling with others and wanting to socialize. On the other hand Aqarius is ruled by Saturn, a cold and restrictive planet of time, so Aquariuans don't want to rush things nor spend their time on irrelevant people. By doing so they can seem to cut people off quickly and start over or to overly bond with someone and become obsessed, since putting so much effort and love into them. They want to be seem as rigid and cold to mask their openness and emotional demeanor. When they get hurt they shut off, write it off and try to ignore it, even though deep inside it hurts for a very long time, but they just try as hard as they can to forget.

💧CHIRON IN SCORPIO

Chiron, the healing healer. Cursed with a wound never to be patched up again, but at the same time giving the knowledge to others how to continue with their wounds. Scorpio Chirons are constitley shamed for their sexual energy surrounding them, so most of the time they cover up and try to hide underneath it. They attract a lot of perverted minds to the table by just breathing. This can also indicate a very empathetic and intuitive person who feels absolutely every thing and can/wants to help others, but by doing so breaks themself down a lot of the time. They also have strong trust issues, may abuse their power, can have low self estem, can be frightful and nervous people. When they open up their heart more and let go is when the healing truly happens. They are more wise than they think, but they cannot see it always threw the anxious attitude and self sabotaging persona.

💧 5TH HOUSE IN CANCER

They attract and love water signs. They crave deep connections, star gazing, physical touch, nurturing their partner, tender, sweet and innocent love. These people like to pit their partner on a pedestal and become a little obsessed with them. They want them to be the center of their universe and also want that in return. Cancer is also symbolically connected to the Mother archetype, the womb, birth...etc, having Cancer in the 5th house of romance and relationships means these people really have that motherly instinct and adore when their partner is family oriented of hands on with kids. They love rainy days filled with the smell of baked goods in the arms of their loved one. They want a Romeo and Juliet kind of love.

💧SAGITTARIUS MOON

Now I've grown up with two Sag Moons in my house hold, one being my brother and the other being my father and they are so alike it's hilarious. I've also had 2 very close friends with this placement and again the similarities are off the rails. Firstly they need to always be on the run, optionally having a job which includes a lot of travel or just changing jobs in different places. Secondly, they are so angry when things don't go their way, but they do cool down quite quickly, the most out of the 3 fire Moons. They are also so good in finding solutions with different people and I different situations. They also love to have many hobbies, are known to be book worms and can flow with any conversation quite well. They are also huge extroverts and the goofy bunch. This doesn't apply that much if the native has a lot of 8th house placements, Pluto aspects with personal planets or a 12th house Moon/Sun/Stellium.

💧AIR DOMINAT PEOPLE

It's really hard for Air dominant people to relate to others. They are just overly detached and see everything threw a realist prism. It can be a little annoying to be honest, especially for fire and water signs, who are just passionate and act a lot how they feel.

💧GEMINI VENUS

Here's me again, bashing on Gemini Venuses...but I just can't help it. The Venus sign that I meet and attract the most. From all the people that remarried, had a lot of partners, Venus in Gemini takes the cake. But what I do respect about them is they will not stay in something they're unhappy with for a long time, they have very high standards and will not dumb them down for anyone. They will always find something better and more exiting and that's why they are known to "change" partners and be "promiscuous". Yep, many are jealous of them at the end of the day aswell.

💧LIBRA RISING

I've never met a Libra rising that doesn't have q nice behind! I know that sounds kinda creepy, but it's true. Since Libra rules the lower back, they all have a more rounder rear. The also have amazing skin most of the time. A very plump and glowy face.

💧NEPTUNE IN THE 12TH HOUSE

This can indicate a very cloudy person. They can be very inactive and procrastinate a lot, but at the same time be highly intelligent and artsy people. I mean Neptune does feel at home in the 12 house, so in my opinion if you're going to have any planet in this house, Neptune it is.

💧MALES WITH VENUS IN THE 1ST HOUSE

Now, I know it's such a strange placement to bash since this is a very fond placement to me and close to my heart. But I've noticed a lot of men having this placement can be confused with this feminine energy in their chart. They are very beautiful, don't get me wrong, but when this placement is mixed with a water sun/moon and a fire Mars it's a death penalty. They know they're beautiful and girls get caught up in that trap of emotional intelligence and an attractive face. They also can be a little shallow. I've seen many guys leave the girl they have the most in common with for just a pretty face so they can show her off as a trophy and then go after the other, but still message and crave the one they truly felt something.

💧TAURUS VENUS IN MALES

The thing that gets them the most if a fruity and playful perfume, long bouncy hair and back scratches...trust me.

💧SUN SQUARE JUPITER

A lot goes on in a day of a person who has this aspect. In one corner ypu want to achieve everything and anything, work your ass of and show your strong ego. In the other corner you are so sick of being the more responsible person and want to just run away. They also have an intense feeling about failure. They should lean from it, not run away.

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painted-bees · 4 months

Text

Migraine addled feelings and thoughts about art and me.

My relationship with art is a little strange haha

When people ask me about...what I want to improve on, or what kind of critique or advice I am open to receiving, or anything of that sort, I don't really have an acceptable answer for them.

The simple matter of the fact is that I'm not...actively aspiring towards improving my technical skill. Being good at drawing/painting and taking the serious steps nessicary towards that end isn't really...fun for me, personally. Not as a goal, nor as an intentional part of my process.

I literally just draw for fun. My goal is to have as much fun as possible with each piece I make. If I am not having fun with a drawing, I stop drawing it. Simple as that.

I worry that this kinda chafes some people when the topic of constructive criticism, etc, is brought up. When someone asks me if I am open to critique, my "no thanks" isn't out of arrogance, but rather because critique takes time and energy, and there are artists out there who'll be thankful--rather than indifferent--towards receiving it. Very likely, the critique is a valid and very helpful observation, no denying that. But it is a bit wasted on me, I am afraid.

I approach my drawings as a hobby--like video games. That's my relationship to the craft. Some people might think I am very good at it. Others undoubtedly think I kinda suck at it, or that I could be much better if I took it as seriously as they do (or would). But that's not my goal. I just like drawing and making characters and story things, and sharing them with people who like it. I don't wanna be the best at it, I am not even very interested in striving towards my own "full potential".

I learned years ago that when art stops being fun, I stop making art. And I have learned that technical improvement comes naturally when I just draw a lot. It comes very slowly--on the scale of years--but it does come. I get bored of a technique and try on a different one, or get annoyed at a particular limitation and put the effort in to overcome or problem solve around it. But the pace is driven by personal enjoyment, not a desire for improvement nor even a fear of stagnation. So long as I am having fun, I don't care if my work stagnates. Like playing the exact same level of a game over and over again that is challenging enough to be rewarding, but doesn't exactly contribute to bettering your skill. I don't look at a piece I finished and consider the ways in which I could have done it better. Of course it could have been done better but I made it the way I did, I enjoyed it, and it's done, now. My concern is that hopefully next piece won't fight me and will be just as fun and rewarding to make.

There are people, excellent artists from both professional and hobbyist circles, who find a lot of joy and satisfaction in honing their skill and seeing the steady improvement in the work they produce. I am just not one of those people, haha.

And hopefully that's okay!

Most importantly, the nature of my leisurely enjoyment isn't a belittlement of anyone's hard work and dedication to the craft. We all make art for different reasons, towards different ends, and find joy in different ways♡

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dovithedarklord · 3 months

Text

Age of Monsters - Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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

Author's Note

Leona and the team travel again, and more and more interesting situations arise.

Hello!

I noticed that with all the upheavals in my life, I can safely upload approx. every two weeks, so I'll stick to that! :D

I don't have a separate Trigger Warning for today's chapter!

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeorm I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeorm

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Seventeen

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

The small room is enveloped in motionless semi-darkness, and only the flickering lights of the machines resting next to the bed paint the two figures clinging to each other on the patient's bed into a neon-colored rainbow. And although their faces now finally radiate peaceful calmness, as they rest in the whiteness of the sterile bedding, they look more like plants floating on the edge of death, intertwined with their dry branches as a last refuge. Yet, despite their almost painful weakness, the aura mixed with terror that reigned over them seems to be easing at last, which was ingrained in each of their cells like an ineradicable illness.

And as I look at the crumpled bed on the other side of the room, I can read from the wet stains on the pillow that the boy probably woke up from a bad dream and sought solace from the woman. It's not surprising that he chose close proximity instead of comfort, because, in the many horrors he has experienced so far, his older companion has been his protector. Perhaps she anchored him in reality now as well, when he floated, writhing in tears, on the border between the bitter images of the realm of dreams and this world. And a rather bitter taste invades my tongue when it occurs to me, that it cannot be ruled out that he will suffer in this temporary nightmare for the rest of his life. Stuck in the middle of painful memories and fleeting safety.

Because I'm dead sure that the government won't let two very young Healers, whom they can squeeze out a few more years of service from, go to waste. No leader will let them take early retirement, even if they die while serving the Hunters. This system isn’t kind to anyone, especially not to those who, according to the authorities, were born to serve. And even though it's better for everyone if a Hunter stays sane and doesn't slaughter everyone in their path if they run out of energy, it doesn't change the fact that, as per the current state of the world, there isn't even time for people to mourn their traumas.

And this thought weakens the contentment purring inside me, which I experienced last night with the help of my clever ability. Because my little action seems infinitely futile as I watch them. I treated all their wounds, and all traces of the pain they suffered disappeared from the tissues, but every minute they spent in the dark little hole where they were pushed into lives just as vividly in their minds. And neither my energy, nor that bastard's pitiable death, nor time will cure this. I doubt that any of them will ever recover, and I can only hope with the utmost benevolence that they lose their sanity and wither in a lab for the rest of their lives, high on medication. That would be the slowest but most merciful death that life could give them.

I must be quite deeply immersed in my thoughts, because I only notice that a tall figure casts a dark shadow on me, when he settles next to me in front of the window of the small ward and joins me in my silent observations. I don't need to look at Riley to know the expression on his masked face, because the barely suppressed rage that emanates from him when he glances at the pair hiding in the small, dim room almost stings my skin. And my mind, buried in resignation, has the strength to feel pleasure for a minute at his agitation, for it soothes my soul in a sick way, that, despite the fact that his kind doesn't need to fear such horrors, I still see the glint of anger in the dark eyes of his reflection. This gives me some faint relief from the gnawing doubts that snake into my bones, which have burrowed deeper and deeper since yesterday with such insidious efficiency as worms feasting on corpses. Because I can't get rid of the image of the terrified faces of the two Healers, and in those few passing hours, when I was finally able to close my eyes, I saw myself in the dirty corner instead of them.

"What did Price say?" I speak up suddenly, diverting my thoughts to safer ground, because the further development of our mission seems a much more pleasant topic than discussing the future of the two poor souls shrouded in doubt, or reviving the damned delusions of my brain. And even though I don't look away from the seemingly peaceful scene unfolding before me, I can see him examining me inquisitively, as if he would be searching for something in my expressionless features. And he must have found it, because even though I can bury my emotions expertly, even my persona created for denial cannot hide from his trained senses.

"Laswell looked the thug up." He finally answers, and whatever was going on in that mysterious mind of his, he goes into the game of ignoring my strange behavior without comment. And I'm immensely grateful for the fact that he is able to turn to duty so quickly, because no matter how much my mind is occupied by the miserable fate of my two fellow colligues, our mission is more important. Now only my subconscious and I should be on the same page about this. "We're leavin' tomorrow." He informs me, stating a certain fact, and I just glance at him curiously from the corner of my eye. Laswell works faster than the devil, and it looks like she hasn't let us down now either. Even though we only had a name and a colony in our hands, which could have been too little to be able to move on with our pursuit. But our station chief's nose is much sharper, and she picked up a hot scent again at such a pace that belies the fact that she is just a simple human. And the knowledge that tomorrow I can finally leave this cesspool, and all this dreadful moment will be an unpleasant experience lost in the mist of the past, selfishly calms my mind. Because I don't want to face why I want to leave the two Healers so enthusiastically and forget about what will happen to them.

"Are they coming with us too?" I continue to inquire, raising another important question, which, although less intensively, but with sufficient enthusiasm, strains my skull. Because the two short days I spent in the company of our new teammates helped to plant the seeds of suspicion and foreboding in my mind enough to make me prefer to part ways with them, even if that would mean the loss of their help. There wouldn't even be a problem with Horangi, but König... he's a different story. And I don't just want to keep him away from my friends, because I'm secretly afraid that they work together like a ticking time bomb, and it's only a matter of time before they have a punch-up due to their incompatible personalities with Riley. There is something inherently dangerous about the hooded Hunter that clings to his every cell like a bloodthirsty demonic presence. It was already difficult for me to decipher the masked man, but König is a completely new kind of riddle, and I'm not sure that I want to know what is hidden under the dark textile. I have a gut feeling that if I dip even one toe into this shallow, murky mystery, the monster lurking in the bottomless swamp will grab me and drag me under. But despite my vivid imagination, my rational side is perfectly aware that I need to observe just enough to be able to read him and know what he and his little companion are up to behind the scenes. Because they are most certainly not so willing because of their good heart and conscience.

"Shepherd won't let us go without his dogs." The Hunter notes curtly, and based on his tone it's clear that even without saying it, he understood whom I was aiming at so skillfully. The edge of disdain moves into his deep voice, which has been lurking under the surface ever since we were drawn here by the clues given us by Valeria. And although I know the kind of self-restraint and discipline the man possesses, it's still impressive how effectively he can rein in his temper, even though his colleague's behavior made it a difficult task for him on several occasions. They cooperate with us with perfect professionalism, but they make sure, with small and sly signs, that we know that, thanks to the old shit, we are not in control here. Our little adventure yesterday made this very clear.

"How surprising." I remark dryly, and I don't even try to make the words crawling on my tongue a little less sarcastic, because I know that my cynicism now finds a match in my partner. Shepherd wants to keep us on a short leash through the two Hunters, and I'm pretty sure it would only take one wrong move to make the kindness of our new helpers disappear like a mirage in the desert. But it's even more likely that the old bastard will wait until we smooth this little nuisance out for him, and then he will get rid of us. That would be very clever, and would give a good reason why the two mercenaries are coming with us. In light of this, we not only have to get hold of the serum and be careful with the mutants, but we also have to keep a watchful eye on when they stab us in the back. Wonderful.

"You shouldn't have come to the interrogation room." Riley deviates from the thread of our conversation, and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't expect him to bring up my little incident sooner or later. It's a fact that it would have made a much better impression on our hosts if I hadn't poked my nose into their business, and perhaps if anger hadn't burned inside me like an inferno, I would have been able to think clearly and stay away. Undoubtedly, it would have attracted less attention, and it's also likely that even without my intervention, they would have found the bloody method that would have made that scumbag want to spill every last bit of info he had. The secret of my little abilities would also have remained under wraps, which would still give me a trump card in case one of our hired babysitters decided to help me cross over to the other world. But the icy hatred that closed its teeth around my insides injected a poison into me, causing a red fog to descend on my mind that I was unable to fight against. And to be honest, I didn't want to.

"I'd argue with that." I retort dispassionately, and I still don't meet his gaze, the weight of which now almost suffocates me. Although our relationship has fallen into something quite attractively complicated, I know that when it comes to work, he knows no joke. And it occurs to me that he might want to scold me now because I wasn't able to do what was expected of me again. And I would like to warn him well in advance, before he can even delve into his disciplining, that no one forbade me to interfere even with a fucking word. Horangi's feeble attempt was more of a less-than-enthusiastic warning than an actual command. If he was serious, then he would have easily arranged it so that I could not barge into the interrogation room. Because he could have killed me with one move.

A frightened whine penetrates the noise of the chirping machines in the ward, and as I see the half-asleep boy moving closer to the woman, who just begins to draw soothing circles through the blue material of the hospital nightgown on his bony back, then the terrifying feeling that brought me to the container on swift legs rises again in me. There is no protocol or rule that could have stopped me then, even if my brain now knows that sitting on my pretty ass and waiting for the big boys to take care of the situation would have been the right thing to do. But I'm too stubborn for that.

"It was our task to find out what he knows." The man states the truth flatly, and I only carefully divert my gaze from the Healers hugging on the sick bed to immerse myself in the inscrutable eyes of Riley's reflection. Because from someone who carries out his duties with such rigor and keeps to what is expected of him, I wouldn't exactly expect him to let my newest naughtiness pass without a word. Although I had already managed to avoid the retort that my misbehavior would have deserved once, I had saved his bosom friend by disobeying the order. But now, guided only by my own feelings, I charged into the middle of their party like a bull gone wild. Not that I mind for a minute.

"It took a long time. I sped it up." I offer the most acceptable reason, which I'm sure can soften the condemnation that might be camped in his mind. Because even though he knows that my terrible game was about much more than that, he can't argue with the fact that I forced out the answers that we were after much sooner than they could have achieved by beating him into a bloody pulp. And it's just an insignificant factor that I used specific tools, and the motivating force behind my actions is another completely negligible detail. The point is, that we got what we needed to continue our search for the serum. It's best for him and me if we leave it at that.

"You took revenge." He specifies simply, and even I'm surprised that there is no reprimanding weight behind his words. As if he had merely made a frivolous remark, rather than stating why I had so vehemently stormed in when they worked so diligently on their victim. But if his insight strikes me unexpectedly, my surprise quickly fades, because it's clear that he already knew why I was there when I crossed the threshold of the interrogation room. But instead of feeling ashamed for exposing my not-so-nice motives, the uncomfortable tightness in my stomach that hasn't really gone away since yesterday just flares up again. And as petty as it may be, I was filled with vengeance indeed when I laid my sly little hands on our prisoner, but I'm by no means such a noble soul as to refrain from it. This kind of meanness fits right into my repertoire of personality traits.

"Is it such a big deal?" I turn back to spying on the small room, because it's much easier to study the dark walls than to digest how effortlessly he can see through me. Of course, it's not that I have lost my mystery to him that bothers me, but rather the fact that I feel like a little kid caught doing mischief. Because from his tone it's like I did something completely wrong. Although I know that my approach was truly merciless, that dirtbag deserved every single moment of it. I don't care if what I have done is questionable, because as soon as I saw the desperation on that disgusting face swimming in tears and snot, my mood turned better in an instant. And if there was even a little justice left in the world, then all the wretches like this bastard would receive this punishment. What's wrong with such scum finally getting a taste of their own cruelty?

"No." He breaks the short silence, agreeing with me almost too naturally, which is completely foreign from his mouth. Because this makes me unsure for a minute about why he brought up the whole topic in the first place. If it doesn't bother him that I took control and used my own little incentive, then what is his problem? "But you don't have to get your hands dirtier at all costs." He adds, and I don't like the tone he puts into his voice at all, like he wanted to scold me. Which sounds bad coming from him, because we both know that while I may be a sneaky bastard, he doesn't need to go next door when it comes to brutality. We aren’t different in any way, and he shouldn't point out how unfeminine and not-so-delicate it is when I use these merciless tactics.

"There's enough blood on them anyway. A little more won't make a difference." I remark nonchalantly, keeping my eyes fixed in front of me with all my strength, because I'm afraid that if I look at the Hunter, I will glimpse something that my soul couldn't bear. I don't want to see his contempt or his superiority, because I don’t feel an iota of regret. This cruelty helped me through hardships all my life, I took what I needed to survive. If there was even a little less blood on my hands, I'd be lying there in that fucking bed right now, beaten, starved, raped and used. The only thing that kept me from this was that I immersed myself in the filth as deeply as was necessary, and my selfishness served me quite well. And if I have to drown in this infectious pool, I will.

But the movement comes completely unexpectedly, as one of his big hands finds my shoulder, and as his fingers gently tighten around the tensing muscles, I turn my head towards him with a starled shiver, because the tenderness in his touch reluctantly tears me out of the gloomy monologue going on in my head. And the way those brown eyes glance down at me makes my stomach jump instinctively, because the inscrutable flickers dancing there make the anger raging inside me fade away in a minute. The heat emanating from his palm pleasantly licks at my skin, which has cooled down due to the bitter rage, and brings my attention back to him so decisively from the chaos in my brain, as if he would be my anchor keeping me in reality.

"I know you're cruel. You don't have to prove it." He states, and his voice fades to a grumble, as he takes a small step to close the distance between the two of us. And as he leans down to me and his scent fills my nose like a familiar visitor, every nerve in my body is sharpened to what he has to say. "But you don't have to do it alone anymore." He declares, and with this one sentence, he dispels all the doubts that have nested in the hidden corners of my brain so far. And the realization that this is exactly why I wanted to leave the two Healers behind me tears into my mind. Because I saw in them the fate that could easily have found me too. I could have ended up chained and abused to the extreme, but instead, for all my selfishness and dishonesty, karma has led me to a place where I am treated much better than my background would justify.

And now here is Riley, who knows my worst side, has experienced firsthand the caustic sarcasm I can use to dig into other people's weaknesses with my words, and what evils my hands are capable of when my interests demand it. Yet knowing this, he offers that I don't have to walk this dark road alone, but willingly joins me. He doesn't expect me to leave behind my dubious methods accumulated over the years, he doesn't ask me to wash my hands clean. And because of this, something completely inexplicable awakens inside me, which simultaneously fills me with a pleasant warmth, which is followed by a hot trembling lightness that spreads through all the fibers of my being. And along with that, an icy fear creeps into the pit of my stomach, because the warning flashes in my subconscious almost immediately that I mustn't let this go. I can't waste this opportunity that fate has given me, because I'm not sure I could survive if I lost them.

And as a result of the realization, the invisible fingers of the tears spurred by the rising emotions gnaw into my eyes with almost painful force, but forcing the feelings down my dry throat, I just nod with a faint smile on my face. Because now I can see clearly. It takes shape in my head firmly that I'm willing to cling to the team, and especially to him with every drop of my blood, that this pledge almost burns into my brain.

⃰

The warm rays of the sun caress my naked arm peeking from under my shirt with deceptive peace, and as I leave the cargo deck hand in hand with my companions, and wade into the wild grass, the sweet scent of wildflowers fills my nose, and I allow myself to drink in the picturesque landscape for a minute. As if I had fallen into a dream, the meadow stretches to the edge of the horizon with such unimaginable calmness, where Nik so skilfully put down our plane, the soft noise of which is accompanied by the buzzing of bees and the chirping song of crickets as background noise. And at other times, this huge open space might make me nervous, where we are easy prey for the mutants who are stalking us, but behind the large building not far from us, the abundance of trees stretching to the sky cover us beneficially from at least one side. A real, hidden corner of paradise.

In other circumstances and in another life, this beautiful weather might even tempt me to have a little picnic in this undisturbed clearing that spreads out in front of our temporary accommodation. Of course, this would be a realistic idea if there was no chance that my idyllic pastime would be interrupted by a deformed monster or one of its humanoid friends, who would pay their respects with a slightly different kind of snack in mind. Although based on Price's information, the safe house might be located in the middle of nowhere, but it's just reassuringly close enough to the colony to be at a comfortable distance from any reckless beasts. Of course, the suspicion raging in my brain doesn't ease one bit, because, during my ever-longer mission, I already had the opportunity to experience what kind of horrors can be lurking behind such beautiful landscapes with watchful eyes. And most of the time they don't appear in the form of malformed animals, but take on a much more human face. Naturally, in this filthy place laced with death, we are still each other's greatest enemies.

"Good to see you're still alive!" A familiar voice interrupts my thoughts, and as I turn my head in the direction of its source, my dark little heart leaps with real joy. Because as soon as I see Garrick emerging from behind the battered door of the house, a definite line of a sincere smile crosses my face. And although it's barely been a while since I last had the good fortune to admire the Hunter's good features and even more pleasant aura, yet, in an almost disgusting way, my soul is relieved that amidst all the complicated misery, I finally have a familiar figure near me.

"We need more than that to bite the bullet!" MacTavish exclaims, and he hurries forward grinning, so that when his friend is within arm's reach, he simply pulls him into a brotherly embrace enthusiastically, patting his back with the weights of the unspoken words of happiness in the small movement. It's no wonder that this meeting is so heart-warming, since every single mission is another chance for these happy moments to never happen again. And this is probably not the first party they got involved in, but in light of the fact that we are drowning deeper and deeper into unknown complications, even I can sympathize with the zeal of my two fanboys.

I don't have to wait long for the one person who is still missing from the impromptu celebration to show up, and as I recognize the well-known figure of Price marching out from the dim depths of the house, the fleeting feeling of absence that may have been present in me until now disappears. The man carefully studies us gathered in the field, and when his gaze settles on me after Riley, who is anchored next to me, and his beard-framed mouth curls up in a satisfied little smile, then my stomach jumps with excited joy with such ridiculous speed that it's downright disgusting. Still, it doesn't bother me for a minute that such crippling emotions rear their heads in my little soul, because I would be willing to do anything to never have to live without them.

"I've hoped this would be the case." Price also joins in our greeting, referring back to my Scottish friend's earlier confident statement with his small comment, as he comes close enough to welcome us. And when one of his big hands lands on my shoulder with the greatest naturalness and squeezes it gently, the pleasant warmth, that only the small team was able to revive in me for a very long time, spreads through all of my limbs following his touch. And I swear that an almost paternal pride shines in those bright eyes, as they survey my face, and I have to keep my cheeky superiority in my features with all my strength, because I don't want to get emotional in front of our audience just getting off the plane. "I've heard a lot of good things about you." He adds, and even though his praise is enough to awaken an impossible cheerfulness in me, but as his gaze meaningfully moves to the masked Hunter enveloped in silence, I understand to whom I owe this exceptional treatment. And because of this, I feel that the tremble in my stomach paints surprise on my face despite my will and all my attempts at indifference. I didn't think that it would be Riley who would so enthusiastically praise my performance to the boss, when earlier I had him to thank for the bright idea of my forest trip, due to which I almost got impaled by a mutant piggy. But this is enough for the hope in my head to push me even deeper into the embrace of my complicated feelings for him. Great.

And at that moment, Riley, who was already more wordless than usual, joins in the warm welcoming, and although he remains silent, he greets our leader with a firm nod. Others might not find his curtness particularly striking, but he cannot hide from the captain's eyes either. And I'm sure that Price also realized by reading his companion's body language that his stand-offishness is directed much more to the two mercenaries who approach us with lazy steps. Because it would be impossible not to notice the distant aura he puts on when he has to share the same space with his colleagues. And although this tense atmosphere made our plane ride excruciatingly long, considering the unique show we were treated to during our joint mission, the grumpy mood of the masked man doesn't seem exaggerated one bit.

Even though they close the distance between us with the silence of the predators lying in wait, I don't have to look back to know that our new companions have arrived at our small gathered group, because the tiny little hairs reflexively rise at my back as I feel that unmistakable gaze burning the back of my head. It was enough for me to look into those blue eyes once over the mangled body spread out on the floor of the interrogation room to know that the wisest thing to do was to ignore the existence of the hooded Hunter altogether. For although I don’t know to what, apart from his obvious interest in my kind, I owe that persistent attention with which he honors me every time we come into forced proximity, yet I'm sure that no good would come of entering into this dubious game. Whatever his purpose is by obnoxiously and shamelessly staring at me at every opportunity he gets.

Price is the one who, as a true leader, grasps the noble task of breaking the ice, and turns to the two mercenaries, straightening his back out with confidence. And although there is a diplomatic impassiveness on his face, and I might even detect a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, but my trained eyes catch the troubled wrinkles gathering on his forehead under the cover of the hat just in time before they disappear. It's rather cunning and tactical of the man to show his best face to those who might run to report to their master after his first questionable move, but despite his best efforts, the visible traces of suspicion remain in his gaze, with which he measures his colleagues up.

"Thanks for the help." The captain expresses his gratitude, and if he has doubts about the two men, it doesn't show in his voice for a minute. And although it's quite clear that he did this out of mandatory politeness, but even I'm impressed when he fixes his eyes on the hired Hunters with the keen attention of a hawk, as if he is trying to read even the smallest twitches, assessing every second how trustworthy the newcomers really are.

"We were paid well to do it." Horangi comments with complete calmness, and even though it was evident that the credits made them so willing until now, even I find it bold that he chirps out this little detail so casually. He doesn't even try to deny his motivations, and it can only happen for an infinitely simple reason, which helps my eyebrows furrow. The Korean Hunter and his no less pleasant companion are so carefree because they don't see an iota of threat in us, which would make them think it would be worth behaving more cautiously. Although under normal circumstances the goal would be for our group to be able to work together without stress, but it's quite obvious from the small, nonchalant little movement as the man cocks his head in interest that this isn’t the case. This is at least as humiliatingly belittling as it's irresponsible, and helps to spread the sparks of tension for a minute in the warm air swayed by the spring wind.

But as rapidly as the unpleasant atmosphere arrived, it dissolves as quickly, for MacTavish breaks the silence, loud with the buzzing of the beetles, that has set in, before my masked friend has time to act driven by the spark of irritation in his dark gaze. As he leaves Garrick's side and takes a few hasty steps closer to the captain, all eyes are suddenly on him, beneficially interrupting the storm that was no doubt slowly brewing.

"Did ya find out anythin' interestin'?" The Hunter with the mohawk turns the attention to the mission instead, directing our conversation in a much safer and more important direction. Despite his best efforts, no one moves for a couple of uncertain seconds, and even the blades of grass stand on guard, waiting to see if one of my buddies would like to test their skills against each other instead of working together, but in the end, it's Price who is the first to settle back into his composure with the impeccable nimbleness of years and routine.

"Maybe." The captain answers thoughtfully, and his gaze lingers on the two mercenaries before he nods toward our new shelter, inviting us inside. Whatever Laswell has dug up from the depths of yet another bottomless drawer, it's not a topic to be discussed in the open, and this sufficiently awakens my curiosity. "Let's go inside." And as he sets off towards the entrance of the safe house with quick steps, I'm the first to follow him, not only because instead of the tense atmosphere that slowly fills the peaceful meadow on the wings of the pollen blowing in the breeze, even the vague emptiness beyond the threshold is more inviting, but also because there are much more urgent problems scratching my mind than the struggle for dominance stemming from masculine vanity. The serum is what made us so beautifully wander to almost the other side of the world, and this very dangerous little vial of hell is why we crossed the ocean to visit another continent. The clever trick Shepherd will use to remove us from the uncertain variables is the problem of the future, which won't come if we don't concentrate on the task with all our focus. And it seems that after the fleeting intermezzo, the others come to this conclusion as well, because without further ado everyone heads towards our temporary headquarters too.

And despite the desolation of the building from the outside, as I cross the border of the house and the cool darkness embraces me, I'm greeted by a very well-maintained, almost homely interior. The gaudy stains on the walls preserve the old tasteful pattern of the torn wallpaper, and there is no doubt that a whole series of family photos could have rested on these eerie square patterns, which the residents might have taken with them in a hurry, in order to have a few memories frozen in the past peace, to which they can long to return to. And as I follow Price further into the uninhabited depths of the house, from the worn furniture forgotten behind and the child's toy lying in the corner, and from the curtain submitted to a slow rot I feel like I had trespassed into somewhere, where the faded ghosts of the late inhabitants still haunt, locked in the objects left behind. But I quickly suppress this short-lived unpleasant sensation, because if there is anything remaining here from the previous owners, it can only be a few bones and decaying scraps of clothing left by the victims when the beasts inevitably found them.

"What a nice place you got us." I note pulling the corner of my mouth into a grimace, and although my voice is noticeably laced with irony, considering the circumstances, the captain has managed to find a really impressive den, which is just right for us to hang out in for a few days. And even though my pretty little body is used to the puritanical comfort of the colony, but for once I'm willing to set aside the inconvenience that I might have to share my bed with ghouls.

"The credit is our helper's. The big guy gave us the coordinates." Garrick shares the information quietly as he catches up to me, and it's enough for him to nod behind with his head to let me know who he might be talking about from our new teammates. And the fact that the pleasant shack is thanks to König explains a lot. Up until now, it was obvious, based only on his rather strong German accent and even more German-sounding name, that he was not from an American colony, but the fact that he provided such accurate information about this safe house hidden in the desolate wilderness confirms that he was born somewhere in the area. And it's quite logical that a terrifying butcher like him started his later adventurous journey from one of the largest and world-famous colonies, because the mention of the name of the Hunter training center operating here fills even civilians with sufficient foreboding. And where else could such a burly giant have been trained into such an efficient killing machine than in Purgatory? It wasn't by chance that they gave it this apt nickname, because the miserable little kids who are dragged there endure such sufferings that, although they become "purified warriors", the few years they suffer there, leave a permanent mark on them. Or at least this urban legend is spread by word of mouth. But it's enough to just recall the bloodthirsty pleasure with which the hooded Hunter stomped someone to death, and it immediately becomes clear that there is perhaps a hint of truth in the rumor.

The captain finally ushers us into a spacious dining room, in the middle of which stretches an old table, where a myriad of documents and weapons are spread out, indicating that the man had just felt at home enough to get to work while he waited for us to join them. And although they got here with less than a day's lead, based on the scattered reports and papers, the two Hunters had enough time to review the important pieces of information, and perhaps even work out the beginnings of a plan to celebrate our arrival. If Laswell took swift action, then Price rivals this momentum, because as my eyes discover the map of the colony among the many pages, and the tangled chaos of streets and buildings highlighted on it in bright colors, I quickly understand that our leader wasn't lazy and must have already studied the field.

"Kate had a hard time with this. She managed to find out that the Rat is in the colony indeed and that his organization is involved in several businesses." The bearded man immediately jumps into the middle of the briefing, not wasting a minute, as we all gather around the table, and he skilfully pulls out a file, which he pushes to the center and opens in front of us. And when the picture of an unknown guy richly adorned with tattoos appears, it becomes obvious that our aforementioned criminal is staring back at us from the low-quality photo. "But he hides well, and no one finds him if he doesn't want it." He shares this not-necessarily positive development, and with this, he succeeds in planting an easily recognizable atmosphere of pessimism in the dim little room. Of course, we could guess that this bastard had to earn the nickname somehow, so it wouldn't be easy to get hold of him, but now we can't allow ourselves to start this search with uncertain assumptions. We need to find him quickly, but mostly immediately, because the clock is ticking, and with every minute we are getting closer to that damned poison finding a new owner.

"This doesn't make our job any easier." MacTavish voices some of the doubts in my head, and as his dark eyebrows meet with annoyance in a rather troubled grimace, it becomes quite evident that he had a similar train of thought in his head as I did.

"We have to get him before he sells the serum." Riley joins in as well, and although the seriousness of the situation should require my undivided attention, I can't help but acknowledge with satisfaction that he almost automatically lined up next to me, like a loyal shadow. And even this small detail can ignite excited little sparks under my skin, because his proximity is enough for all my senses to be painfully sharpened. And I have to forcibly divert my concentration back towards our discussion, because no matter how much I want to read every tiny movement of his face covered with a mask, now my useless brain has to deal with the analysis of bigger complications. Pull yourself together, Leona.

"If he doesn't come out on his own, we'll smoke him out." Horangi puts forward the rather radical idea, and leans comfortably on the table with folded hands on the other side, as casually as if we weren’t just trying to find the ever-cooling trail of a drug that leads to certain death. And I find his ease interesting, because I'm pretty sure that fat credits won't be of much use if the army of hybrids and their little minions overrun every corner of the surviving civilization. Because this tiny little suggestion would most certainly lead to that.

"It would be an irresponsible idea." I interject my comment, looking through the file that was probably dug up by Laswell, searching for anything that might narrow down where in this huge, bustling city we should start our search to find our criminal in the shortest possible time. And Price was really not exaggerating, the dude got his hands into almost everything from trading with weapons, to prostitution, to drug and human trafficking, so it's no wonder that his criminal organization weaves through the colony like a spider web full of decay. Because, except for the central sectors, where the centers of the official bodies are concentrated in each colony, areas where he has influence have been circled in bright red almost everywhere else. Fabulous.

"Scum like him is easy to catch. All it takes is force." König chimes in for the first time since our arrival, and as his voice resonates through the barren walls of the building, I also break out of my observations and shift my gaze from the piles of documents to the man with careful deliberation. And from the way he straightens up and stands out from our small group without the slightest uncertainty, it's clear that he sees nothing wrong with his idea full of violence. And although it's already quite obvious from this how they managed to find the weak link leading to the Vultures so amazingly quickly, this approach won't work now. Because it's the least of our problems that everyone is in a foreign land except him, but if our target is such an influential person that he has ears on every corner, then he will know that we are in his heels before we have a chance to touch him with a finger.

"If he finds out he's being targeted by Hunters, he'll take off before we can even get close to him." I explain this non-negligible factor, and as I firmly hold the unpleasant weight of his gaze fixed on me, I know I'm not imagining the curious glint in those ice-blue eyes. "That's why we're here now instead of the colony, I imagine." I add this detail almost as a side note, and I don't try to prevent cynicism from creeping into my voice, because I want this behemoth to know that no matter how menacingly he stares, he won't be able to force me to surrender. Especially not when I know I'm right. If it were so easy to track down that goddamn thug without being noticed, then Price would have been breathing down the dude's neck before our plane even touched the ground.

"She's right." Garrick agrees, his face involuntarily giving way to the helplessness that must have settled in his head, and which helps to plant the faint line of resigned wrinkles on his face. Without a doubt, he would have been the first to bring our target to us wrapped in a pretty bow if he had the chance to lay his deadly little hands on him. But it wasn't a coincidence that they arrived here first and waited for us, because this action requires much more caution than they can organize with their usual bloody techniques.

"But we can't just sit around and wait!" MacTavish argues, spreading his hands out passionately, thus effectively voicing the frustration that is probably slowly forming in everyone upon hearing our increasingly hopeless mission. But even though I can understand his powerless rage, we cannot run headlong into the wall, because at this point we risk the complete destruction of humanity with every wrong move.

"I agree with Woods on this. We can't act hastily. We need intel." Price affirms, his eyes scanning our small gathering meaningfully, silently signaling that although he would like to throw himself into the middle of action, even his experience cannot guarantee success right now. "Nik, can you help us?" He suddenly turns towards the entrance of the dining room, and I look back over my shoulder in confusion, because I could swear that we left our pilot at the plane. But as I see the man leaning against the doorframe with complete peace of mind, many questions arise in my mind regarding our friend, who until now was believed to be rather harmless. And judging by the fact that my companions aren't at all surprised that Nik was able to sneak up to us so unobtrusively, I have a very strong feeling that I quite misunderstood the guy. His remarkable ability to follow us without being noticed is only a negligible detail in addition to the fact that the captain turns to him to solve our predicament.

"I have a few contacts in Colony No. 2. I'll see what they know." Nik offers, with such a self-evident simplicity that deepens my suspicion that the man mostly plays pilot as a hobby, and pursues very dubious activities as a full-time job instead. Because there is no other logical explanation as to why he has contacts on another continent who hide deep enough in the underworld to help us. Very interesting.

"All right." Price gives his blessing to the proposed solution, and then immediately turns his determined attention back to our small team. "Until then, we'll wait." He shares our next step, and although I can feel that not everyone is filled with unclouded happiness by this development, he gets a nod of agreement from everyone, even from our mercenary comrades. "Let's rest. The last week has been busy." He adds in conclusion, now with a much softer tone, and the hoarseness of exhaustion settles in his voice, which he has been able to more or less successfully remove from himself so far.

As our two mercenaries take the opportunity without further comment and leave the scene of our meeting with comfortable steps, I have the opportunity to take a closer look at the face of our leader. And although for a fleeting moment, I still feel the scrutinizing gaze of the giant man on the middle of my back, I'm much more occupied by the very pale grayness that I now quite clearly discover appearing on the captain's skin. Up until now, it might have been the excitement of the trip that could divert my attention, but now I see the weariness dominating the features of the bearded Hunter, and in the semi-darkness surrounding the room, the circles under his eyes seem even darker. And as I shift my searching gaze to Garrick, I can make out the small gray veins running along his temple even from the cover of his cap, which can indicate only one thing. And after a quick calculation, my suspicion is confirmed, that I haven't been able to handle them with my clever little hands for weeks, and although they probably didn't have to use their ability extremely, stress can very effectively bring out exhaustion in them. Although my Scottish buddy and his masked bosom friend received a charge not so long ago, at the gate of our important little mission, a little boost won't hurt them either.

"By the way." I speak up suddenly, effectively drawing all eyes on me, and I take advantage of this to get around the table, strolling closer to Garrick, who looks the most worn out, and who only curiously raises one of his dark eyebrows, when I pull off the glove from one of my pretty little hands to hold it out towards him. "It would be time to regenerate you." I note, bringing a mixture of surprise and concern to the man's face.

"Won't it be a bit much?" He asks, his voice full of doubt, and I can't hold back the cheeky little smile that escapes my lips, because the way he peers at Price for help makes him look infinitely boyish. And I also know from this small confused gesture that it's only worry speaking, because there is no doubt that he doesn't want to strain my little body in the least by asking for my aid. But unfortunately, determination works much stronger in me than the dull grip of the slowly awakening hunger in my stomach, and I'm willing to go to painful ends if I can guarantee that the care with which they turn towards me won't disappear. And although this admission fills a part of me with the right amount of disgust and contempt, I just have to think about the fact they mean my safety, and I immediately manage to suppress these unwanted voices. Because thanks to the suffering of the two Healers, the motivation to feed my selfish desires with their attention lives much more vividly in my consciousness, as if I were pouring oil on an already insatiable fire.

"I'll survive it." I comment simply, and although I know that by charging four Hunters I will wake up the torturous hunger gnawing at my insides, this small nuisance seems bearable. Even knowing that it’s uncertain how I will get blood, because I'm sure, even if Price brought me a tasty treat, it won't alleviate my problems permanently. And I can only wildly hope that the power of the mouth-watering dinner given by Riley will last until I maybe manage to catch an unsuspecting fool in the colony to quench my thirst. But no matter how much these troubling thoughts arise in me, as Garrick's damp hand wraps around mine, and the first burst of my energy penetrates his body, then I feel the familiar pull of the demanding force, and I know I have made the right decision. Because my hunger is a negligible inconvenience, if I can guarantee they will be in top shape when it's needed most. Even if every single nerve in me cruelly warns me that this will have consequences.

⃰

The silence in the house echoes in my ears with painful loudness, and the creaking of the old floor under my boots screams in my skull in an almost ear-piercing way, as I drag my legs, which are growing heavier by the minute, toward the room assigned to me. I wasn't wrong in that the charging of my four companions would sufficiently flare up the well-known pangs of hunger twisting my insides, and although it doesn't besiege me nearly as strongly as last time, I feel that it's only a matter of time before the feverish agony hits me. And even though I don't regret for a minute that I was able to solve my team's problem, I have to get some food very soon, if I don't want to be the one who, weakened by hunger, hinders the mission. If I have a little luck, the captain has been kind enough to surprise me with a delicious morsel, which will be just enough to ease my suffering. And as soon as we wander into the colony, I make sure to catch some stupid criminal and refuel with nutrients, because I have a bad feeling in my mind that tells me that our deployment will take turns where it will come in handy if I'm in peak condition.

And as, lost inside the massive building, I finally reach the corridor on the floor where my temporary quarters rest, instead of being relieved, all my limbs fill with tension in a split second, because I discover someone who shouldn't be hiding here in the least. Because Price certainly planned it so that I would be given the one out of the dozen rooms which is farthest from our guests, in case they wanted to use my services. Although I don't think they would openly force me to regenerate them, in this dirty world even less deadly people are capable of horrible things, and it's even better to be careful with someone who can crush another's skull with their bare hands.

Certainly, he had already heard my steps when I was tramping up the rickety stairs, but now, as I approach him, König turns his head in my direction with leisurely calmness, and even this small movement is enough for caution to gain a foothold in my mind. I have already acknowledged the amazing size that genetics has blessed him with, but now, as he is surrounded by the faint light filtering through one of the broken windows, he looks more like a shapeshifting demon than a human being. And even though he's comfortably leaning his back against the worn wall, there's something quite unsettling about the way the fabric of his black uniform strains painfully on his arms, as his folded hands rest on his chest. Because he may seem perfectly harmless to an unsuspecting observer, but my paranoid mind warns that it's only an ephemeral illusion, and that an artificial peace resides in each and every inch of him. But I'm even more interested in why he's here, because I was sure that after our impromptu meeting, he and his friend went off to rest. And even if he has zero navigational skills, he couldn't have accidentally wandered in here, because their room is most definitely on the ground floor.

But no matter how much caution creeps into my limbs, I don't let any of it reach the surface, because it would be a mistake to show him the concerns he can arouse in me. I have just seen enough of his behavior to know that this operation is just as much about polishing his ego as material goods, and what could be a more tempting pastime for such a man, than to frighten a unique little thing like me. I saw the barely concealed fear in the eyes of his men during the mission, and it's quite easy to deduce from this what kind of respect the Hunter desires. The kind that makes the knees of the unfortunate person who stumbles in front of him tremble, and that makes him feel even more powerful. A pathetic but perfectly legitimate goal. After all, instilling fear is at least as effective a control strategy as gaining respect.

His bright eyes follow my every step with unbroken attention, as I walk closer, and from his gaze resting on me, I feel like a mistrustful small animal that approaches a larger predator in the hope that it will be merciful enough not to kill it. And although we are currently playing on the same team, nothing guarantees that this hunch of mine won't come true at some point in the not-so-distant future. Because, unfortunately, my observations and intuitions are very rarely wrong, and now every nerve fiber of mine screams that I'm dealing with a beast in the guise of a man who, if he could, would have wrapped his needle-sharp teeth around my throat a long time ago. And while in the case of Riley, I was sure that he rewarded me with his disdain for my not-so-appealing behavior, in the case of the hooded Hunter, I have no idea what could be causing this outstanding interest.

"Your team is unusual." He breaks the heavy silence that has settled between the desolate walls, and I just stop at a safe distance from him and raise one of my eyebrows curiously, because he starts the first direct conversation we have with a rather interesting remark. And with this one sentence, he succeeds in reminding me that the good life I experienced in the unit is a unique privilege, which normally my kind hardly ever gets. And while in most cases the Healers are kept away from all the nitty-gritty details of the actual deployments because they get more use out of them unharmed, it cannot be denied that the active role that my team so generously gifted me within the ranks of Unit 141 is quite unusual. And although I don't like the fact that he expresses his comments so freely, it's indisputable that as a stranger, and especially as a Hunter in a leading role, the dynamics of my team can be a real curiosity for him.

"If you think it's strange that I dare to speak in their company, then it really is." I answer with an unimpressed tone, trying with every cell to be able to keep my confidence. Although he still doesn't move from the wall, the way he stares at me with an almost abnormal immobility makes the goosebumps prickle on my back. As if every single muscle of his would be stuck in a deliberate frozen state, but my keen senses catch the tiny little movement as his fingers wrap a breath tighter around his biceps. And this simply gives the impression that he is forcing himself, against his nature, into a less threatening position than his instincts would like. Maybe my brain overthinks every little thing, but it's no coincidence that I honed my observational skills over the years. I see that something completely different lurks under the surface than what he lets on.

"This isn't common in many places." He states simply, but his remark doesn't throw me off in the slightest, because I'm also perfectly aware of this fact. That's why I'm so motivated to keep my place. "But Price seems to be a liberal leader." He notes almost only to himself, and his voice is full of fascination, as if he had just made a very profound statement. However, it bothers me much more, and it can suddenly turn my already sharpened mood into a more prickly one, when my clever little ears hear the breath of derision hidden in his tone. Others might not even notice it, or would attribute it to something completely insignificant, something that is not worth pointing out, but I have analyzed just enough people over the years to know that nothing is completely unconscious that is buried behind one's words.

And even I cannot explain the angry flame that kindles within me at the thought that this complete stranger is making such casual comments about the captain. Of course, I'm aware that Price is not an innocent virgin, nor a flawless saint who needs someone to protect his honor, but there is something viscerally infuriating about the way the hooded man turns to him with barely veiled criticism.

But, as the stagnant emptiness in my stomach tightens, I decide that I shouldn't engage in this conversation when my mind is dulled by the pull of hunger slowly coming to life. Nothing good will come of this irritation taking control of my brain, because I might say something that would give him a reason to leave behind his false peace and show what secret temper lies beneath the no less dangerous exterior.

"If you came here to provoke me, then don't waste your time." I sigh tiredly, and as the exhaustion screams in every corner of my body at the same time, I set off with renewed motivation towards the door, behind which the solitude awaits that I yearn for. "It won't work." I add, not even sparing him a last look, my eyes strictly fixed on the worn wood that hides my shelter. And once again, I have to note that he didn't come here by chance, because out of the countless possibilities, he managed to settle down right before the entrance where I'm heading, with almost measured accuracy.

"I didn't mean to insult you." He says plainly, and it's quite disturbing that there is still no obvious emotion in his tone, which makes him seem much less human than my nervous system finds comfortable. His statement doesn't seem like a lie, but my impatience grows with each passing minute, because I can't figure out what the hell is going on here. I could think that he only wanted to forge closer unity between our teams, but then I would have to be much more naive. In that case, he wouldn't have waited to catch me alone and without any witnesses to see whatever he was planning in that mysterious mind of his.

"You want to befriend me, perhaps?" I inquire with a malicious little smile on my face, and the sarcasm that nestles in my voice stings even in my ears. And I know it's not the smartest idea to taunt a guy who can tear me to pieces with his hands, but that didn't stop me even when I was mouthing back to Riley. And my sharp little tongue won't go on vacation when the starved tension working inside me rages in my head. "How nice of you." I sprinkle at the end, considering the whole tense conversation as closed, because no matter what reason he strayed here for, I don't want to talk it out with him now, when we are all too alone. And even though carefree mockery shines from every cell in me, my hands wrap around the doorknob too quickly when I finally arrive before my room. Because he may still not move from the place he has occupied until now, but the threatening aura that emanates from him like some uncontrollable, poisonous gas almost gnaws at my skin.

But before I have the chance to finally disappear into my little cave, so that I can finally be left alone with the suffering clinging to my insides with its nails, the floor behind me creaks and my fingers freeze on the metal as suddenly as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water in my neck. And for a suffocating moment, everything is shrouded in quietness, and there is such a silence between us that the crackling screams of the old house travel through the walls like an ominous melody.

"I liked what you did in the interrogation room." He utters, and it takes me a second to understand what kind of compliment he gave me due to the stress and the agony of the spasm that is slowly closing my intestines in an iron fist. And when the recognition penetrates my brain and I decode his words, I turn back to him with complete confusion, looking up at him with such shocked astonishment on my face that almost certainly paints a cartoon-like shock on my features. Because suddenly I can't find any logical explanation for how the thread of the conversation has led us to this point, and I can't discover any answers as to why he feels so comfortable around me that he can point this out to me so freely. What the hell?

"Excuse me?" The startled question breaks out of me, and I'm unable to hold back the surprise creeping into my voice, doubting for a fleeting moment whether I heard what he said correctly. But as soon as my eyes meet his, and I discover a glimmer resembling admiration in them, I’m completely dumbfounded. Because under other circumstances, my twisted little soul might even be touched by this unusual recognition, but I know all too well who is standing in front of me. And that makes the unexpected turn the situation took seem even more surreal.

"The bloodlust in your eyes was beautiful." He continues his grotesque praise, almost undisturbed, and as he takes a step towards me, I need the combined work of all my nerves in order not to back away from him, because the distrust drills itself into my brain that if I turn my back on him again, it will end very badly. Because I suddenly sense very well how unbelievably huge this man is, and as my troubled eyes reflexively run over him, I become painfully aware that if he attacks me, I won't be able to defend myself. "I doubt your friends could truly appreciate it." He claims, and now some deliberate malice creeps into his voice, which he doesn't even try to hide, thus clearly showing that he has been holding back his real thoughts until now very willingly.

But when my body breaks out of the paralyzed shock, and I get over the fact that he could crush all my bones to dust with a strong hug, then I finally have the brain capacity to understand what he shared with me so carelessly. And from this simple sentence, the alarm disappears from my mind, because it suddenly makes sense why he honored me with his presence. And as my mind realizes that this little discourse is about nothing but the rivalry that has existed since the very first moment our team met, then my little soul calms down in the blink of an eye, because no matter how terrifying the man may seem, according to this, he is driven by just as fallible and transparent motives like everyone else. And although it's very difficult for me to maintain my indifference due to the intrusion of hunger in my stomach, now that I know why he is so persistently interested in me, the doubt of the unknown disappears from my mind.

"Interesting deduction. But I'm afraid I don't care." I respond with utter disinterest, and as the line of a sardonic smile stretches across my lips, I see the first bewildered wrinkles appear around the skin covered with dark paint. And it's painfully obvious that he didn't expect this reaction, but believed that such a big and strong Hunter's kind approach would make me fall at his feet from the pleasure. But he is seriously mistaken if he thinks it's so pathetically easy to sweep me off my feet.

"You’re wasting your talent with them." He laments, and if I were a little more stupid, I would really believe the sympathy in his voice to be authentic, but even if he hadn't blown his disguise so irresponsibly, I would still see through his benevolence. Because I can tell when someone tries to manipulate me, especially if said someone does it half as skillfully as it would take to be a successful strategy against me.

And at other times, I might want to play with him verbally and continue this complicated moment, but when my stomach convulses with the pain tearing into me, then all my patience evaporates like the last sip of water in the desert. Every single one of my nerve cells is stretched to the point of breaking, and this straining ache makes my body braver than it should be, because the sooner I put an end to this extremely bizarre situation, the sooner I can collapse into my bed to finally rest a little in the embrace of the slow ache that spreads to every fiber of me. I quickly cross the distance of a few steps that are remaining between us, and my hand shoots out towards him with the speed of a venomous snake. It seems that he didn't expect my attack, because before he could react, my fingers close around the fabric covering his face, and as I pull him down to me with a movement that is perhaps more forceful than necessary, he obediently leans down to me, stumbling towards me, and I see genuine shock in his eyes.

"It's unnecessary to try to flatter me." I murmur with deceptive kindness, and it seems that I managed to stun him so much with my unexpected act that he even forgets to protest, because he almost dazedly lets me intrude into his personal space to finally have stare off with him without him towering over me. And although it seems that his spine bends in rather uncomfortable positions in order for me to do this, it only makes the contemptuous grin on my face grow wider. "I know this is all about measuring who's dick is bigger. They have something that you don't and it hurts your ego. It's sad, but you'll have to live with it." I curve my mouth downward pitifully, savoring every single emotion that flashes through his eyes. But as soon as I see one of the gloved hands moving in my periphery, I let go of his hood with nonchalant ease and dance away from him in order to return to my door and open it again. "I recommend that you focus more on the mission. A lot of credit is at stake, isn't it?" I throw my last words at him from the threshold, and as I enter the embrace of the darkness of the small room, I have one last chance to catch his gaze stopping on me as he straightens up, and I'm almost relieved when I'm hidden by the thick wood.

Because even though it was only for a few seconds, I saw something very dangerous flash in those bright eyes, and the warning voice waking up in my brain tells me that this is exactly how the predator stares at its slowly cornered prey. With curious hunger. And that makes me realize, even despite the pain that is slowly squeezing my stomach, that I have crossed an invisible border, which sooner or later will bring the trouble that I so enthusiastically sought out for myself. Wonderful.

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tinydefector · 25 days

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TINY-DEFECTOR WORK MASTERLIST

REQUEST & ASK OPEN

Please feed me request they are keeping me sane.

information

it's been a long while since i've written on tumblr. I lost my last account, but I'm hoping to get back into writing fics or oneshots again. Mainly going to be Writing Transformers.

Transformers Live Action -knightverse, ROTB. On occasions I may make Bayvesre content.

Transformers Prime

Transformers Gen 1

Transformers Mtmte, IDW

Character list and links below ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Requests & ask Rules:

I don't tend to close my request unless I get over 30+ of them.

- 1 character per request if you want a longish one shot fic.

- you can make requests for multiples with scenarios but but I tend to keep them short with a few headcannons added in.

- Specify if you want a continuation of a previous fic.

- I will do both human and Cybertronian and occasionally Experimental monster readers.

-if requesting Cybertronian for smut, they have both a valve and spike as I write all Cybertronians with both parts

- your more than welcome to ask for NSFW, SFW, Angst, fluff and all sorts. I'm pretty chill. All Smut and NSFW content is marked with #valveplug

I write: gender neutral, or Male characters, (I'm not good nor do I like writing fem character, I'm a guy, if I do get fem readers I'm going to write them as gender neutral)

I will do:

- Scenarios

- Yandere and possessive.

- family content

-disabilities (human only)

- Fluff/Angst

- fearplay, mouthplay

-Vore: soft vore/ light vore (may experiment, but very light)

- NSFW, kink:

and Dub-con/ consensual Non-con

size kink

skin fetish

hair pulling

Scent/ smell/ pheromones

Sex pollen/perfume.

silk and ribbon play

cum inflation

breeding

pet play

Predator/prey

(On occasions will write Alpha/Omega/Beta, I write it rather differently to the classic AOB. But I will only write it on very rare occasions)

vore

fluid play and consumption (paint, energon, oil, cum, spit, lubricant,)

spiking warming

Heart and spark syncing

new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

(Just ask pretty much)

-Pregnancy

- death request are alright just keep it civil I won't go into details on the deaths.

- The AUs:

First Contact PotatooftheLand

Tasty AU of @callsign-relic

Energy fluid AU - (my silly energy drink transfluid ones)

Human pet

I will NOT do:

-Incest

-Pedophilia

- Self harm

-Minors (exceptions if they are children of the Bots and reader but only exception)

- Don't get angry if I'm not willing to write fem characters, I'm a guy, and I tend to stick with trans content, M/M, or gender neutral, but I'm leanent but respect my boundaries.

Slightly iffy:

- death of parents (I recently lost my mother in an accident so please be aware I that things one's sometimes I won't do due to my own feelings on these fics, while other time I may because it gives me comfort)

I enjoy making silly little one shots or even just sweet little things. I will eventually do up a master list for links once I make more stuff. (Pretty much anything you can think of up that alley I'm more than happy to do)

If you want a request of one who's not on the list, please submit it. These are just all the ones I can remember off the top of my head, people enjoy.

Ps I love writing silly little things too outside of the fics and even enjoy making art to go along with them when I feel up to drawing.

So nothing is too silly ask away over all the strange little things you want to know.

__________

Tiny art dump

My little spot for art

Food feed to me

_________

Random Works

Transfluid headcannon

Non Ship works

______________________

Character list and links:

Beachcomber

Breakdown

Bumblebee

Bulkhead

Cyclonus

Drift

First aid

Ironhide

Jazz

Knockout

Megatron

Mirage

Optimus Prime

Perceptor

Pharma

Prowl

Ratchet

Rodimus

Rung

Starscream

Skyfire

Skids

Swerve

Soundwave

Shockwave

Tailgate

Tarn

Ultra Magnus

Whirl

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moonlight-prose · 1 year

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HURT

➝ 03. HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN

a/n: this chapter fought my brain the entire time, because apparently it didn't want to be written. i don't blame it honestly. the amount of angst i've shoved into it, really did break even my own heart. but as always angst is my bread and butter, and breaking hearts through words has always been my forte. so i give you chapter three.

summary: joel comes to a realization that terrifies him more than the horrors of a world he lives in. he can't lose you.

word count: 7.8k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit but still 18+, exhaustion, violence, tw blood, so much angst you better have tissues handy, the odd moment of fluff, tenderness, pain, grief, ptsd, tw death.

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

You were dragging behind him, slowly making your way through the outskirts of a city. For some reason the weariness in your body felt amplified the second you open your eyes. You battled a headache and stiff muscles as you walked, trying to keep up with his long strides. But no matter how many times you jogged to get to his side, you continued to feel your energy slip right from your hands like sand.

While you refused to let him know how much of a struggle it was to keep going, you knew he could tell. Every thirty minutes he stopped without explaining why. Simply resting against whatever he could find—waiting patiently for you to catch your breath, and regain the energy you expelled getting there. In return, you thanked him with small pieces of your food and the extra water you carried in your pack.

Nothing that would confirm his actions, but still something to tell him…thanks for having my back as we walk through hell. If the look in his eyes was anything to go off of—he understood entirely. You got used to him complaining about eating as you walked, explaining that the scent could attract anything, but today the complaints were nowhere to be found.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have dared to say he was showing an unusual amount of kindness towards you. Perhaps he was trying to give you peace of mind. You didn’t bother to question it any further, too afraid that it would eventually stop.

“Should we find a place for the night?” you asked, doing your best to fight off the yawn that crept up your throat.

He didn’t respond. Which wasn’t unusual for him to do. In fact, you were so used to it that you simply took his silence as him being in agreement, and began heading towards one of the empty buildings. You didn’t hear him call your name, nor did you hear the word Boston he affectionately used to tease you. It seemed that your brain was focused on one thing—getting some rest. You feared that whatever lingered in your system was some variation of a flu or a cold; both things you couldn’t afford to endure now.

His hand gripping onto your shoulder finally stopped you from going further. The dazed look in your eyes, worse than before; a cloud of exhaustion proved that if you kept going…you wouldn’t survive. For days you’d been going nonstop. Only giving yourselves enough time to shove food into your body and continue.

Sleep started to evade you two days ago. Originally you expected it to pass. Simply another frustration you had to learn to deal with, but then the nightmares started. The pain that you knew still remained in the very core of your body—worked its way through your entire system. Much like the virus, this sensation only had one goal—spread. Until you were left with no other choice but to rest, to finally give in and allow your body time to recuperate.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking directly at him. Except Joel could see the hollowness that reflected in your pupils. You were staring at him, but you weren’t there—not really.

He felt his chest tighten; a feeling he tended to push away whenever it came to you, but today it was different. Even though you refused to tell him, he knew that you weren’t sleeping; saw it in the worn down expression painted on your face like a damn mask. You were trying to keep him from noticing, from asking you what was wrong and as he looked at you, he understood. He could truly lose you if he didn’t find a way to get you to sleep, to push back against the nightmares he knew plagued you each night.

“Come on,” he said, dropping his touch from your shoulder as if you burned him.

Although in your stupor, you thankfully didn’t notice.

Traipsing behind him, you tried to keep your body steady—your steps uneven. He weaved in between the rows of cars that were lined up like museum pieces; simply another reminder of what the world lost. What it once had.

He continued to pause, giving you time to catch up, before he started to veer off the highway and began walking towards the exit ramp. You wouldn’t have been able to guess where you were, the signs faded from the sunlight and covered by overgrown vines. But you trusted that Joel knew where he was going.

Originally you would have believed that putting your trust in a man you barely knew for a few weeks was stupid. Surely a way to get yourself killed, or something even worse, but with him the trust came easy. As if you’d known him since you were young and you were meeting again, this time as old friends. Simply two people that were always meant to cross paths; their fate written in the broken road they walked along.

You didn’t know if he trusted you—or if he ever would—except the slight shift in his actions recently told you otherwise. Instead of treating you like someone tagging along, yet another person he’d lose contact with eventually. He treated you like a partner—asking your opinion on choices, on routes to take and places to stay for the night.

Whether he realized it or not, Joel began to see you as a friend—someone he could depend on when things got rough—a person that he couldn’t lose.

He told himself that getting close to people only made the grief of losing them worse. That to lower the shield protecting him, meant enduring yet another wave of loneliness—forced to face the hollowness that seeped slowly into his bones. The man that he used to be died long before he met you, but every now and then he could see the man who he used to be, return. In his own way, he cared for you. Yet it was a truth he couldn’t admit to himself, because everyone leaves in the end.

Death wouldn’t escape the path Joel was walking along, and he hated that you were right there beside him. Heading directly towards it yourself.

“Where are we going?” you asked, the waver in your voice telling him that he had to hurry before you collapsed.

“I’ve been through here before.”

You swallowed down the impending yawn that was desperate to come out. “So you know about a safe house?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied, squinting against the sunlight in order to catch a clearer sight of the sign that hung above.

Although it had been a few years since he and Tommy found themselves out this far, he could recall there being an old car dealership towards the center of the small city. If he was right, they’d still have a few cars left with batteries that hopefully still worked. It was a small prospect to hold out for, but Joel’s refusal to let you keep going this way, forced him onwards.

He figured that you both might be shit out of luck by the time you got there. But he knew what you’d say to him if there was even a chance of something good happening. Keep going until the hope pays off.

“Boston?” he asked, stopping to see you leaning heavily against the broken highway railing, your eyes slipping shut and body falling forward. Joel slung the gun across his shoulder, taking large strides towards you quickly, his hands grasping onto your arms to steady you.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, your eyes shutting involuntarily. “Just…tired.”

“Hey.” His hands cupped your face, tilting your head slowly. “Hey look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open as far as they could, lids still drooping slightly. “I’m…I’m okay.”

“You gotta keep going.” Unconsciously, his thumb ran along the top of your cheek, the calloused finger clashing with the softness of your skin. You were opposites, yet still somehow remained two halves of a broken whole. “You hear me?”

For a moment, Joel felt his heart lurch in his chest as you stayed silent, your eyes falling shut again and breaths turning shallow. But the sight of your lips twisting up into a grin appeased his slight panic—reminding him that you were far too stubborn to give up now.

Leaning into touch, you released a labored breath before taking in another one immediately afterwards. You were starting to get colder to the touch; the sun going down didn’t help the temperatures in the slightest.

“I’ll try my best, Texas,” you sighed, straightening your stance to the best of your ability and pressing your face into his hand one last time.

You didn’t see it, but he grinned. It was barely there. Just a fleeting look as you headed towards his original spot, but it confirmed everything Joel was afraid of. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t. And that sent a streak of fear through his heart, his eyes still watching you slowly make your way down the street. Joel knew what he was capable of—understood his limits and how far they stretched. Only with you…none of that existed anymore.

Joel wouldn’t lose you, but what he would do to keep that from happening scared him more than it should have.

“You coming?” you called over your shoulder, beckoning him closer with a small tired smile.

He had no control over his limbs as they gravitated closer to you, his steps slowing to keep him right beside you—his hand brushing against yours every now and then. If the road wasn’t covered with overgrown weeds and vines of plants he couldn’t name, he’d say that this felt relatively normal. A man walking beside a woman, the nervous electric energy between them practically visible in the air around them.

Yet the guns strapped to both your backs and scars that littered your bodies like bleeding memories, told a different story. You were two fragmented people destroyed by the aftermath of a ruined world. What a story you would make for anyone still alive to read it.

“We’re not heading to a safe house, are we?” you asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, his hand shifting to tightly grip his pack’s strap. “We’ll be okay.”

“No need to lie to me.”

“I’m not lyin’.”

You grinned, allowing your pinky finger to nearly twine around his. “Your accent gets thicker when you lie.”

“No it doesn’t.”

Scoffing, your finger finally caught his. Joel pretended not to notice the way his heart pressed tightly to his chest.

“Whatever you say Texas.”

The sun began to slowly dip below the rows of houses and taller buildings, giving Joel a time limit as to how far you could go before calling it a night. From what he could remember, the place wasn’t too far into the smaller outskirts of the city. But if the slight shuffle of your feet told him anything, you wouldn’t make it there by tonight. Joel had half a mind to let you lean on him the rest of the way there. Except his back and body screamed at him to finally give up for the night.

He sighed, glancing at the rows of empty homes that most likely remained free of any infected. Yet his gut told him to do a sweep either way before allowing you inside. He blamed the idiotic side of his brain for letting you burrow so deep into his hollow chest.

“Wait here,” he said softly, his hand clasping over yours briefly—thumb running along your knuckles—before he pulled away.

“Got nowhere else to go,” you replied. Though your words were light, airy, you were ready to fall unconscious to the floor.

You had surpassed being able to explain how tired you were two hours ago, the sensation settling itself in your bones. The longer you walked, the louder your body begged for sleep, but every time you closed your eyes…you saw her again. The woman in the closet. You couldn’t get her out of your head even if you tried, because she was too similar. The sight, far too familiar to what you’d witnessed years ago, and before you could stop yourself…you saw your mother again.

If you wouldn’t give your body sleep, it would force you to relive that moment over and over again. Until eventually you went mad.

Sighing, you felt a shake start in the hand that clutched your gun. The rest of your body soon followed, but you held out until you spotted Joel’s figure in the broken window. His flashlight shone out onto the small pathway up to the front steps—the once neatly placed bricks now overgrown by wild grass. You hadn’t heard him scream or shout for you to run yet, telling you that the house was safe from infected and even worse, unwanted visitors.

“There’s no beds,” he said, getting to you faster than you expected him to. “But there’s a couch.”

Relief washed over you. “You think it has anything bad?”

“I checked the cushions. They’re still in good condition. Well…after being left out for ten years.”

Even through your fatigued state, you still cracked a smile when you knew he was attempting to lighten his mood. Sure, he said it in a manner that hinted at no humor whatsoever. But you’d been around him long enough to grasp his slight inflections and dry sense of humor when it came out. Even though his face remained passive, he was funnier than you expected him to be.

“Mm, careful Texas, you’re spoiling me,” you mused as you moved past him slowly.

You could have sworn you saw his face flash with an emotion you’d never seen him wear before, but you blamed it on the trick of the sunset. An orange glow of the fading sunlight caressed his face, showing you the side of him that you would never tire of looking at. Of a man who you hoped found a reason to keep surviving.

He remained close behind you, keeping his hands from reaching out to hold your arm or waist. Joel wasn’t an idiot. He knew you could handle yourself, having seen you take down several infected on your own. But the part of him he closed off, the part that died with Sarah peeked its head out again. Prompting him to be observant of the things you did, what you said, because you were his to care for.

His to protect.

“Did you get lucky with food?” you asked, before turning to see the state of the kitchen.

Havoc had been wreaked on this place long before either of you arrived. The cabinets were picked clean through, and you could see the layers of dust that had settled on the shelves. Nobody had been here in a long time, meaning you and Joel would have to forgo eating one more day until you could get back into the woods tomorrow. At least there you could hunt. There you found solace away from this reality; for a moment you were able to forget that humanity was on the brink of extinction.

“Just the couch,” he replied gruffly, his voice coming directly over your shoulder.

He stayed closer to you than usual, but knowing how unsteady your body was today, you didn’t mind it. Part of you wanted to lean back, press against the warmth you knew emanated from his body. Except the small irritating voice in the back of your mind told you to stay away. Getting close to Joel was dangerous enough as it is. Allowing yourself to fall for him was worse.

There would be no future together. No home to make with him or life to share. This was it. Nights huddled in forgotten buildings, food shared over fires that never stayed alive for too long. You would only get the chance to survive together. Anything else asked for too much, and you and Joel were out of things to give.

“This feels nice.” The words came out as a contented sigh, your eyes fluttering shut as your body finally relaxed.

The cushions were shit and the cold air was beginning to take a toll on you, but you took what little good you could get. Laying down, you felt your muscles calm slightly. It would take time for you to gain back what energy you already lost, yet you didn’t mind. For once sleep wasn’t evading you. Instead, it took you in its embrace, the soft beckoning sounds of the darkness you desperately craved welcoming you once more.

You didn’t feel Joel lay his jacket on top of you, barely felt him shift your legs to drape over his lap as he sat down. All you could comprehend was the warmth that encased you in his touch, his proximity. Your eyes shut, your mind falling silent—giving you the reprieve you needed for days.

The sharp piercing echo of a gunshot ringing in the air jolted you awake. Your eyes flew open, a sharp gasp of breath leaving you as you sat up straight. A cold sweat began to spread along your skin when you looked around the room, coming to the conclusion that you were alone. Perhaps you imagined the shot, the sound simply a dream your brain conjured up. But then you heard it. The distinct sounds of shouting, of Joel’s voice echoing in the brisk morning air.

“You take one more step, I'll shoot again!” he called, his voice spurring you to quickly shove your arms into his jacket and rush to the already open door.

He stood on the last step, his shotgun poised and dangerous in his arms, pointing directly at a man and a woman. They had their hands raised in surrender, eyes wide with the same terror that you had worn before. The same look you must have on now. Whereas Joel’s face was hard, the anger came off him in waves the longer he stood there, unwilling to budge from his stance.

“Please,” the woman stepped forward once she caught sight of you behind him. “We’re just looking for a place tonight. Some food if you’re willing to share.”

You nearly scoffed at the notion that you and Joel were better off than they were. “We can’t help you,” you replied, getting closer to Joel, your hand landing gently on his shoulder.

Neither of you noticed it, but the second your touch pressed against him, his body relaxed. The tension suddenly fading when he finally realized you were there, standing with him. He still refused to drop the shotgun, his eyes narrowed in their direction in case something happened. But with you there, he felt better about the situation, knowing that when worse came to worse…you’d have his back.

“Then a place for night,” the man said. He was smart in staying right where he stood, knowing full well that if anyone got shot first, it would be him. “We have a car. We can take you wherever you need to go in the morning.”

That gave the both of you pause, Joel’s eyes flicked to the side to quickly glance at you.

If you managed to get a ride with them, you might be able to finally reach Boston before you expected. You knew Joel wasn’t quick to trust anyone, but the prospect of not having to walk so far left both of you conflicted with the choice.

“Joel,” you said softly, moving closer to him and shifting to the side slightly. “I know you don’t want to—”

“No.”

You sighed, eyes closing briefly before they met his stone cold gaze. “They have a car Joel.”

The sorrow in your eyes did him in; shot him right in the heart and before he could stop himself, he was relenting to your request. With a sigh of his own, he dropped the gun, keeping his head turned towards you—molten brown eyes locked on yours until it was you who broke away. He heard you begin to make a list of requirements they had to follow, things that you knew would keep Joel comfortable with the situation. And for that he felt grateful.

He didn’t like how quickly you got to him, how you somehow managed to make a space for yourself in his mind—his heart. Joel waited until you led the couple inside, the rings on their fingers telling him enough. They were lucky to have made it this far together; never having to endure the pain of losing one another. He glanced at you one more time, watching as you made conversation with enough ease to surprise even him.

You fit in naturally wherever you went. He wanted to assume that after so long you liked finally finding other people to talk to. What he didn’t know was that you were doing this for him. You were learning everything you could about them to keep not just yourself safe, but Joel too.

“There’s a bedroom down the hall,” you said, pointing to the empty room with no bed. “You can take that for the night.”

“Thank you,” she replied, the relief in her voice evident. “I’m Martha by the way.”

Shaking her hand, you kept the small grin on your face for her sake more than your own. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Jimmy,” the man spoke up, nodding his head in your direction. You didn’t bother to nod back, already knowing that you’d only see these people for as long as they could help you.

Joel lingered behind you, his hands ready to reach for the gun at his side, but your presence distracted him from the couple. The early morning light practically caused you to glow the longer you stood near the open doorway, and Joel found himself unable to tear his eyes away. He felt the old familiar sensation of warmth pool in his stomach, his body aching for your touch. For you to come closer.

He fought against the feeling ever since he met you; refusing to allow himself any sort of attraction when he might lose you in the end. Except then you stayed for longer than he anticipated. Digging your way beneath his skin and reminding him what it felt like to be touched. To be wanted.

Ripping himself away from your presence, he sat on the couch, allowing you to take the lead and speak to them. He needed time to think, focus his thoughts on anything but how you might feel beneath him. Seeing you wear his jacket didn’t help his situation anymore than the damn sunlight. It seemed that no matter how much he wanted to pull away from you entirely—you pulled him closer. You gave him a small sense of hope in a world that killed whatever was in its path.

Eventually you found your way back to him, sitting beside him on the couch so close that your thighs pressed together. Joel found that he wanted to pull you even closer, his hand aching to press against your leg. To feel your warmth under his palm.

“We could go hunting.” You pulled him out of his thoughts, drawing his attention back to you. Yet he still remained in a daze, unable to completely break free of his thoughts.

He grunted in response, bringing a small smile to your lips. “It’s a long way back to the woods.” Fuck, even his voice sounded dazed.

“If they have a car it won’t take too long.”

It killed him to know that you were clueless as to how much he wanted to stay here and talk with you. All you two have ever done the past few weeks is talk, but Joel found the sound of your voice soothing. He wanted to fall asleep to it at night, to hear it first thing in the morning. That thought alone continued to strike him with a fear so potent he could practically taste it on his tongue.

“We need to be back before dark.”

You nodded in agreement, your hand falling to rest beside his. “I’ll bring my gun just in case.”

“You’re low on bullets.” He heard you curse under your breath. “You can use mine,” he stated, getting to his feet to stop himself from grasping onto your hand.

Stunned, you watched him walk away, heading towards the kitchen where he stowed his bag in one of the cabinets. He had placed the gun neatly on top of his extra flannel. There was a box of bullets stowed at the bottom, enough to give to you in case of something going wrong. Normally he’d try and get you to stay behind, but he trusted the world less than he trusted these strangers. Them he could take if a fight had to be won, but he couldn’t protect you if he was too far to get to you.

“We’ll be heading East,” he said, handing you the gun carefully.

As if they heard you preparing, Jimmy and Martha emerged from the room, their packs still strapped to their backs.

“I’ll drive,” Jimmy offered, his hand gripping onto the keys tightly. That one single movement showed you that Jimmy wasn’t a man entirely willing to venture out with strangers.

You didn’t blame him—still wary about the both of them yourself.

“We better get a move on,” Joel replied gruffly, taking the lead and heading towards the rundown truck that was parked in the middle of the street. He recognized the model, grumbling under his breath about what a piece of shit it was. They would be lucky if it got them to the outskirts of the woods and back before the sun began to dip below the horizon again.

The days used to move slowly, dragging on until eventually he collapsed into bed from the sheer exhaustion alone. Now they blended together. Until he could no longer tell one day from the next, forever stuck in limbo, waiting for everything to come to a final ending.

He watched you clamber into the backseat with Martha, his jacket still adorning your figure and his gun strapped to your waist. There were very few things that turned him on to the point of feeling borderline desperate, but that sight did it. Just the sheer knowledge that you were strong enough to save not only yourself, but him as well killed him on the inside, because he knew he could never have you.

You weren’t his to keep and so he continued to shove away the feelings that began to eat away at his insides. Turning him ravenous for something other than food.

“So where are you two heading?” Martha asked, turning her body towards you, drawing you into yet another conversation that Joel was quick to tune out. Instead, he focused on the roads Jimmy was taking, offering his suggestions on which path was better as they went.

Three hours of hunting left them with a measly bird Jimmy managed to shoot from a tree. Rather than bring the scent of cooked meat back to the house, they cooked it in the woods. Or rather Joel cooked it with the fire you built. While Jimmy could shoot—Joel could give him that—he claimed he had no clue about how to survive in the wild. Martha seemed to agree, saying she did most of the work.

You couldn’t place why, but their words sounded off to you. As if they were putting on a show for whoever they came across. You didn’t ponder on it too long though. Not when you were busy keeping the fire controlled to keep the meat Joel was slowly roasting, from burning to a crisp.

It was when the sun began to dip behind the trees, did you finally suggest heading back. The woods may have been safer than the house—what with it being so far from the city—but you refused to find out if that was actually true. Joel drove back, his eyes glancing at you every now and then in the rearview mirror while Jimmy talked his ear off. Yet no matter how many one worded answers Joel gave him, the man never seemed to shut up.

All you could say was that by the time the sun was gone and you were laying on the couch, Joel sitting where he’d been last night, you were glad the day ended.

“Hey,” you whispered, seeing how he practically dozed off in the time he’d been there.

He stirred awake, his brown eyes—now filled with exhaustion—meeting yours. “You okay?”

Grinning, you felt warmth spread through your body at the realization that the first thing he asked you wasn’t filled with irritation at waking him up. No, he was simply concerned that you weren’t doing okay; that something might have happened in the five minutes he had dozed off. If you weren’t filled with the sudden urge to kiss him before, you were now.

“Yeah.” You watched him settle into the cushions further—his arms draped over your legs. “I’m perfect,” you whispered, knowing he could no longer hear you.

You remained awake for a while longer, listening to his snores as he finally got some much needed rest. Once again you allowed your eyes to wander over the bones of the house that remained. You thought about the past, the future, and then…him. While you were two people who’s scars ran deeper than their emotions, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the domesticity of it all. Of falling asleep with him on a couch after a long day.

How he gave you his gun and jacket, never asking for either of them back even as you re-entered the house. You liked to see him as a partner. A man who would have your back in the midst of battle, but you never ventured further than that. Too afraid of what you’d find buried in the depths of your heart. Two definitions came with that one single word—a label not even Joel had admitted to yet—and you were terrified to find out which one the both of you landed in.

Too invested in your own thoughts you didn’t hear the creak of the floorboards. The shuffle of boots going unnoticed to your spent brain. You shifted, sighing with content at the position you were currently in, your body nicely wrapped in Joel’s leather jacket. Yet the peace could never last in the end. You knew that now.

Your eyes flew open when you felt the cold press of a blade against your throat, fear streaking down your spine. The darkness covered who this person was, but then you caught sight of the dark brown hair pulled into a braid that could only belong to Martha. Joel’s gun was still strapped to your waist, your hand sliding over the weapon, but her narrowed eyes caused you to freeze in place. She tightly gripped your neck, yanking you to the side—her blunt nails digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

“Move or he dies,” she whispered, nodding her head at Jimmy who held a gun behind Joel’s still sleeping figure.

Without fighting you slowly began to inch your way off the couch, the floorboards creaking under your boots as you stood. But Martha had clearly done this many times before. Slamming her foot into the back of your knee, you fell forward with a grunt, hands slapping against the floor and cutting against an open nail. Blood spilled onto the already dark wood, staining the color with remnants of you.

“Now here’s how it’s going to go,” she said softly, her voice empty of any emotion; her hand still gripping onto your neck.

“Let her go.” Joel’s voice calmed your nerves within seconds, the breath you’d been holding finally being let out. You didn’t have to look at him to know what his expression was. The deep echo of his tone told you enough even before your eyes met his.

Joel wanted blood, his eyes zeroing in on the knife still pressed to your throat. He knew what he was capable of, knew how dangerous he could be when it came down to it, and rarely did he like it. But the sight of you on your knees, a fear you tried so hard to hide present in your eyes, shoved aside all his remorse about killing. For the first time in a long time, he was content to rip them apart with his bare hands.

“If he moves, shoot him Jimmy.”

You shuddered, eyes fixated on him as the knife was pressed even harder against your neck. “Hey Texas,” you breathed, your eyes wide and heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“Shut up,” Martha snapped, slamming you in the temple hard enough to cause blood to trickle down your face.

Joel jolted forward, but the click of a gun forced him to stop. “Yeah Boston?” he asked softly.

Your eyes fell to your waist, the glimpse of his brown leather holster catching his attention. “You’re a pretty damn good teacher.”

He understood, snapping his attention back to the gun and forming a plan on how to get it. But in the time it took for you to let him know, Martha had figured out how exactly best to make you work in her favor. Pulling away from you entirely, she advanced on Joel, her knife now paired with the small pistol you saw her carrying earlier. You felt the anxiety begin to build up in your stomach, spreading down to the very tips of your fingers at the sight.

“Wait,” you called out, getting to your feet, only for Jimmy to grip onto the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

“Don’t fucking move,” he spit in your ear, the sensation of his hot breath against your skin felt vile.

Joel’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling into fists as Martha pressed her gun to his forehead. Thankfully Jimmy was too distracted with the bloodthirsty need that ran through his mind, to notice your hand slipping the gun out from your side. You felt his weapon press against your waist, the barrel cold against your skin.

“Aw, sweetie,” Martha cooed. “Just be glad it’s only us and not our crew. Don’t worry, we’ll make your deaths quick.”

“You’re fucking raiders,” Joel practically growled, his knuckles now white from how tightly his hands were clenched.

“Took you long enough to realize,” she said with a smile.

“What do you want with us?” You knew it was a long shot to actually get the truth from her, but keeping her distracted as you clicked a bullet into place was all that you needed.

She laughed, the sound hollow. “You’ve got weapons, clothes. There’s lots of stuff us raiders like,” she murmured, trailing a finger down Joel’s cheek.

Something hot flared in your chest and shoved its way forward as you heard the bullet in her gun slide into the chamber. You knew Joel could handle himself, knew he could get out of this situation, but you were too stubborn to let him get hurt along the way. The part that cared too much about him took over, finally finding something to fight for in the midst of hell.

Protecting what was yours.

You raised your arm and pulled the trigger before anyone could react. And you watched as the bullet embedded itself in Martha’s shoulder. Her gun fell to the floor, a cry of pain tearing from her throat, but the fight wasn’t over yet. Joel loaded another bullet, pointed it at her and prepared to fire. You shut your eyes, in the hopes of avoiding the sight of any more death, but the echo of the second shot ringing in the air sounded wrong.

Joel flinched, thinking Jimmy attempted to fire at him. Still he pointed the gun at Martha, pulled the trigger and watched her fall to the ground, her blood now pouring onto the wood. Before Jimmy had any time to react, Joel was standing to his full height, his dark eyes narrowing at the sight of you still held in the man’s grasp.

“I’ll kill you!” Jimmy screamed, the fear practically dripping off his body like sweat.

You wrenched yourself away, landing to your knees again and shutting your eyes as another echo of a gunshot pierced through the air. Everything fell silent, the crickets outside, the breeze that blew through the trees. All you could hear was Joel’s labored breaths mixing with yours. Until something louder began to block out the sound of the world around you.

Your own heartbeat.

With a gasp, you finally realized why the shot sounded wrong, why you couldn’t feel your side. Warmth spilled over your palm, pain suddenly slicing through your body. Your eyes opened to see Joel standing a few feet away, his gaze still stuck on Jimmy’s dead body that lay only a few feet away from you. It wasn’t until you breathed his name that he finally broke free from the cage in his mind.

“Joel,” you breathed, eyes wide with a new kind of fear.

He felt the familiar question of are you okay land on the tip of his tongue, but then he saw it. The dark spot that spread through your black shirt, the red that spilled onto the floor below you. Joel felt his heart drop to his stomach, the air suddenly punched from his lungs, as he fell to his knees beside you.

“J-Joel,” you stuttered, gasping for another breath that burned your lungs.

“No,” he mumbled, his hands lifting your shirt to see the worst. “No, no, no.”

“Joel w-what’s happening?”

He gently helped you to the floor, his hands immediately pressing against the wound as memories of that fateful night began to rise up in his mind. From what he could see the bullet went through cleanly, leaving an open wound that he had to close up—quickly. His eyes lifted to meet yours and the sight of you looking petrified broke him; his heart twisted violently in his chest with each passing second.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he said, trying to convince himself more than you. “I need you to do something for me.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering slightly as a wave of dizziness spread through you. His hand cupping your cheek brought you back long enough to hear his words. “I need you to keep pressure on it.”

“Okay,” you gasped, biting back the scream as your hands pressed down on the wound. “What are you going to do?”

Grabbing his bag, he dug through it for his extra flannel, the fabric old and worn down. He couldn’t move you like this, not when you were bleeding so much. But he couldn’t keep you here. Joel felt grief’s familiar tight grip begin to wrap about his throat, cutting off his air, but he fought against it. Forcing himself to focus on keeping you alive. Joel had already decided he wouldn’t lose you…his partner, his friend. His.

“I’m gonna wrap it,” he said, surprisingly keeping his voice calm.

Lifting your hips slightly, he yanked the flannel into place, tightly tying it around your side, and wincing when you cried out in pain.

“I know, I know.” You gripped his wrist, stopping him from moving you any further. “I gotta do this darlin’. I know it hurts.”

“I-I can’t feel my body Joel,” you whimpered, tears falling down the side of your temple and into your hairline. “What’s happening?”

He cursed, hands reaching up to cup your face and turn you closer to him. “You're going into shock. You’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” At this point Joel couldn’t tell if he continued to repeat the words for you or for himself. Fear spread through his chest, the sting of tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t want to die,” you whispered, hands clutching onto his wrists and staining his skin red with your blood.

“I won’t let you die honey.” He tightened the fabric on your body, making sure that the wound had enough pressure to stop you from bleeding out. He didn’t realize how badly his hands shook until you grasped them in yours.

Wheezing, you began to see spots of black show up in your line of eyesight and knew…you’d have to make this quick. “Joel I need you—” Exhaling, you desperately took in another breath. “I need you to do something for me.”

Joel had heard those words far too many times to forget their exact meaning. You were going to tell him to go, leave you there and survive. Yet he couldn’t get your words out of his head—telling him that he wasn’t beyond saving, and in this moment…neither were you. He felt his heart stop beating, his world collapsing once more. Shaking his head, he tried to busy himself with getting you ready to move, but your hands cupping his cheeks stopped him entirely. If he could cry he would, but the tears had dried up long ago.

“You’re not gonna die,” he stated, once again needing the words more than you. “Not when I just found you.” His voice cracked, eyes shutting briefly until he felt you pull him closer. Your forehead pressing to his.

“Come here,” you breathed, your chest aching with the movement.

Pain practically swallowed him whole the longer he watched you struggle to stay awake, your blood still warm on his hands. “I’m not going to let you die,” he whispered.

With a wince, you smiled, thumb running along his cheek. Joel was a man of few words until it was too late and he had no time to say everything he should have said. Leaning in, he finally indulged in the one thing the both of you ached for the most. He pressed his lips to yours, a soft brush of his warm breath fanning across your cheek as he exhaled. Kissing him felt different than you imagined. The rough chap of his lips were somehow smooth against yours and briefly you lost yourself in his touch. You imagined that his feelings, beyond friendship, existed. Yet even you knew this wasn’t real.

You figured this was a goodbye. A thank you without saying the actual words, and you didn’t care if he didn’t actually mean it. Kissing him stole away the grief, it allowed you to truly forget that you were standing on death’s doorstep.

Sighing into his mouth, you felt the numbness begin to spread down to your hands, until you could no longer feel the sensation of his beard beneath your fingertips. Joel pulled away, his chest heaving and cheeks flushed red. If only you had a camera you could take a picture of him like this. Looking like nothing else was wrong in the world, because all he could focus on was you and your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, the black spots overtaking your vision entirely.

“Darlin’?” His hands pulled you up, your head leaning against his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his lips pressing to your forehead. “You’ll be okay.”

Finally, the darkness stepped forward, welcoming you once more with open arms. Into its awaiting abyss full of peace—a place where you could rest until the end of time. Joel’s voice sounded far away as he called your name, his hand cupping your cheek to see you give in.

Your body jolted, heart racing and breaths labored, as you came to after who knows how long. The pain was a dull thrum in your body yet it was still a bitch to move. But it was the arm that tightly went around your waist that kept you still. Joel was wrapped around you, his face pressed into your neck and legs tangled with yours. You felt the warmth of his palm resting on your stomach when you moved, but the sharp sting of pain stopped you.

Something was tightly tied around your waist, keeping what you assumed to be a piece of fabric pressed against your wound. The pressure felt awkward, but it kept you alive. You weren’t sure how long you were out for, but you could see that night had passed, giving way to dawn. Joel’s chest rose and fell against your back as he slept, the soft snores he let out telling you that he needed more sleep than you did right now.

Though you could only imagine what he went through, nearly losing you must have put him through an entirely different kind of hell. You remember his face last night. Stricken with a type of grief you would never know in your life—the type that left a person broken beyond repair. Whatever he’d been through before he came across you turned him into that man. The survivor who wasn’t truly alive.

Turning slowly, you held back your grunt of pain as your wound screamed from the effort. Surprisingly, his face was peaceful. His eyelids fluttered every now and then, breaths remaining even, and you allowed yourself a moment to simply admire him. You had seen him like this before, sitting in the dark as you took watch. But this felt like more.

Shifting closer, his breath washed across your nose, the tickling sensation of his mustache against your upper lip nearly made you smile. You didn’t dare move any closer, keeping your lips a hair's breadth away from his—too afraid of waking him up. And there you remained. Watching him dream about something far away from this empty house. You hoped it was a good dream; one that gave him the solace you couldn’t.

He shifted, his arm tightening slightly around your waist and you felt what was left of your heart crack down the center. It was unfair that you met him now. In the middle of hell. You liked to imagine—if the world stayed the same as it was before—that one day you might have met him if you visited Texas. Or if he visited Boston. Perhaps you would have run into each other like you had now, found a friendship, and then when the time was right, you would have kissed.

Only that’s not how life went and instead you were left to watch him sleep, wishing you never kissed him in the first place. Now that you knew what it felt like—you weren’t sure how you could ever give him up. How could you say goodbye when he owned whatever remained of your heart—your hope?

The rising sun began to shine through the severed windows, glinting off the edges of cracked glass, but you refused to move. After so long searching, you finally found your purpose, and you’d protect him with every broken piece of strength you had left. Until you took your last breath.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us fic #my writing

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canmom · 1 month

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i probably would call myself a consequentialist, but not a utilitarian. my objection to utilitarianism is similar to my objection to the absolutist Bayesianism practiced in That Subculture: it's a philosophy that claims to be based around a certain computation, but actually performing that computation is completely intractable. there's no way to actually update your probability assignments of all possible statements in response to new information, any more than it's possible to aggregate the total happiness/suffering/whatever across the entire future for each imaginable course of action.

so this calculation is entirely notional. what you're actually doing is coming up with verbal arguments and vague heuristics for how you think this notional calculation would work. perhaps it's as good an entry point as any. but the supposed mathematical rigour is just rhetoric! you can talk about utilons this and QALYs that, but there is no way to calculate this shit, it's just a mathematical coat of paint.

the second objection is the 'seeing like a state' objection (or seeing like a company/NGO): the 'utility function' is a construct used to make economic models. it doesn't model humans particularly well, who have a variety of competing impulses that don't lend themselves to nice formalisms. and to demand that you should live according to a utility function is accordingly to strip the world of its complexity to make it more tractable. instead of specific people with specific desires and needs and relationships into which you fit, which aren't necessarily commensurable, you have abstract fungible units of pleasure or suffering or whatever else you're trying to optimise.

this worldview appealed to me as a teenager. I imagined that you could model an agent as a some kind of surface between it and the world - a sphere, perhaps, inside your head; the course of your life would be the movement of particles in and out of this sphere, and theoretically there would be a pattern for every instant of time that would lead to the best possible impact on the world, solving 'life' much like a tool assisted speedrun solves a game. the goal would be then to approximate this optimal run as much as possible. then I'd think of problems with this model: couldn't you just spawn high energy photons on the sphere to melt shit like a laser? we'd have to put some restrictions on it, obviously. what if the optimal run was really close to a harmful run, so a small mistake would lead to disaster? perhaps you'd be better to find a stable local maximum instead. and so on.

I'm not sure what good it did me to imagine this funny (or if you prefer, terminally STEM-brained) thought experiment, but it was very nice and mathematical-looking, and back then I really wanted my philosophy to be impossibly demanding for some reason. some weird combo of depression and autism and a self image very much dependent on being told i was good?

these days my feeling is that the pretense of mathematical rigour where it doesn't exist is untrustworthy, and particularly where people are concerned, abstracting too much loses important information. I'm not a court of law where strict consistency matters for the sake of stability or whatever, nor a government trying to figure out which levers to pull to create the ideal society - I'm an organism embedded in a bewilderingly complex system, and I can take each situation as it comes. treating the people I interact with well is important to me. I still sometimes think along utilitarianish lines sometimes - particularly 'this person could use this money more than me' - but I make no pretense to rigour or optimisation with it.

#introspective nightposting

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sagephilosophie · 14 days

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ROYAL REQUEST

┆RINDOU H.

Chapter II : Sanzu's Wife 「Masterlist」

꩜ Chapter Summary ▸ For nothing can cure the princess' broken heart, but the wedding bells crushed into dust.

꩜ Chapter Tags ▸ Implied/Referenced Pregnancy, historically accurate misogyny, Arranged Marriage, Cheating, historically accurate systemic oppression, slight suggestive content.

꩜ Word Count ▸ 5995

The Shibuya kingdom; known for their powerful political and financial figures, authority over the rest of the kingdoms within the Tokyo empire, widely civilized society, and graceful princess that will bring them peace by marrying into the Kantou kingdom royal family.

Never had the princess been so terrified of her way back home.

(Name) watched coldly as the carriage pass by the forest, lake, and farms and for once she couldn't admire them, the future looked so harmful through the greens, the urge to open the door of the moving cart and roll off the hill was pretty tempting.

Her head went to two directions, one autocalming her with memories of the previous night, of Rindou's messy mauve hair in her grasp as his muscular one held tight to her thighs, oh the pure euphoria as his lips painted her neck similar color to his orbs, all while mercilessly fucking her. The other making up horrifying scenarios, of her lover targeted by the Shibuya and Kantou royal family, of having to end up in a loveless marriage and possibly never seeing Rindou again.

'If i can't marry whom i love...' she thought '...i won't love whom i marry.' A promise. A fake promise. She cared for Sanzu... just not like that... never like that...

At the thought of Sanzu a memory popped up into her head...

"(Nickname)! Over here!", Happily gestured the Tokyo prince, as the little princess tried to keep up with him and the Yokohama prince running up the hill, racing to the cherry tree.

Unfortunately for her, they had too much energy to match that she had to stop midway to sit down and catch her breath.

"Manjiro! Keisuke! (Nickname) is tired", Rushed the Kantou prince to her side, taking her hand and offering her a plum he just got before finding them.

The other two kids stopped their tracks and ran back the opposite direction, making the four of them sitting and facing the Tokyo imperial palace, that looked like a toy house from their point of view.

"Do you still have more plums?"

"Stop thinking of food all the time"

"No one was talking to you"

"Both of you be quiet already!!"

"What will you do if we don't?"

"I will tell your brother Shinichiro"

"No you will not"

"Yes i would"

"Then catch me first"

Manjiro got back on his feet and continued running as Baji followed along, both kids giggled and called for Sanzu to play catch with them, the boy in question moved away and squated for (name), "i will carry you around, now let's beat them!"

She climbed his back and he ran after the troubled boys to the cherry tree. The sounds of children laughing echoed across the open area.

It was put to the test more than once how Sanzu was a loyal friend and companion who would always have her back. Including these times.

As a matter of fact, they haven't seen to one another since the engagement ceremony nor spoke during it, he was well aware she wasn't taking the news as happy ones so he was making sure to give her space; another small considerate act from Haru that still meant a load.

There was more supporting factors for that, however - aside from the superstition of the unluck threatening the groom and bride presuming they meet before the wedding - the Kantou kingdom faced a number of political menaces that kept the wedding delaying; from going on a hunt for the traitor of the royal military, to encountering two seperate rebellion movements known as Moebius and Valhalla, leading them to suffer severe damages especially with their most capable captain, Yasuhiro Muto, fleeing the territory upon being discovered as the traitor they were looking for.

Rumour has it, he works for an underground alliance between corrupted royal figures to dethrone the now emperor, Shinichiro Sano.

The prince, tangled through all this mess, being the only capable working royal around to take care of the kingdom, that he became a serious mess - almost reaching Rindou's workaholism level - that he had no time in his hand to meet up with the princess nor discuss their opinions - not that it mattered - they were in neutral terms with the idea anyways, even she was willing at one point to be Sanzu's wife ... that was until Rindou and his gorgeous face interfered.

Within their love hours she couldn't think properly of the consequences, the disgrace of having a premarital affair with a different man than her betrothed, the possible treason against the council's decision to her courtship allegation, the crossed boundaries between respected allies such as the Kantou kingdom, and the threats of supplies getting cut and the innocent civilians end up in an extreme famine because of her... The consequences kept getting worse as she listed them, all of that flew over her head back then, all they could've thought as worst case scenario was separating from one another.

The shame was late, the realisation of the situation only hit (name) as she passed the gates, heading to the meeting tower. That damned tower.

She couldn't recognize the way inside her own home anymore, the stairs were getting taller and taller the more steps she took, the sound of her own footwear against the surface haunted her.

"May this go right so i would too...", she chanted under her breath repeatedly. The promises she made all day were to no one but the void, saying something with a meaning of 'help me out of this one and i will stop sinning' sounded ridiculous when she'd break her vows faster than ever if and when Rindou shows up.

The meeting room door swung open... The members of the council shifted their full attention to (name). The mood got tense and the wind blowing outside the brick wall sounds ever so clear.

"May we be of assistance... your royal highness ?", urged Lord Kisaki Tetta with a sharp tone - that she didn't appreciate.

"Yes... i mean.... well....", she inhaled intensely, "i came with an announcement..."

"And what may that be ?", the king replying from across the room caught her off guard, unnerving her more.

"I- uh...."

Breath in...

"The t-t-thing is...."

Breath out...

"You make me happy princess..."

That was all the encouragement she needed.

"I wish to cancel my engagement to Haru."

The room flipped; everyone yelled in unisen that words were incomprehensible, but the curses were too loud to miss, no doubt they were going to freak out but shouting insults at her in the presence of the king took her aback - more concerningly that he was too... collected...

Tears threatened to fall as the slurs kept rolling, the men got up from their chairs holding their work papers for dear life to revise the outcomes of the alternative she suggested, unnecessarily calling her a Bitch behind every word, the unreasonable ferality getting out of hand.

"QUIET!!!!! QUIET GENTLEMEN!!!!!", Duke Ken Ryuguji silenced the raging circle and warned them, "I should remind fellow members of the Shibuya council to watch their tounges, when speaking to our Princess."

Everyone behaved themselves on his command; the Duke was well respected as the right arm of the Tokyo empire crown prince, Manjiro Sano.

"Well pardon me, Your grace", Kisaki's mischievous voice barged in, signaling no good, "are you perhaps implying you... support her royal highness' statement?"

"I have not implied a thing, Sir Kisaki", Ken answered him in a serious note, "however, i believe we should hear her out."

"Sure, sure, oh please elaborate on your catastrophic, disadvantageous, and death-dealing vision, princess (name)! We're all ears!", sarcastically added Kisaki.

"Oh don't be ridiculous... that's just melodramatic...", She can hear Ken growling from his place prior to replying again on her behalf.

"Is it now ?", The malicious man moved from his seat closer to the center to address the entire room, "Shall i remind you all what awaits us if prince Takeomi dies ?"

The silence in the room got loud, a cold breeze roamed around. Not even the princess dared to argue with... what started the arrangements;

The Shibuya kingdom and the Kantou kingdom had a long-term tied history... ever since the late emperor, Mansaku sano, gave them close lands both kingdoms favored the other and have been practising inside trades, Shibuya ended up excessively relying on Kantou's agricultural goods, which was proven to be disastrous on one fateful day;

When the crown prince of Kantou, Takeomi Akashi, disguised himself and roamed the villages of Shibuya, unwarned, the prince was cornered by a group of Knights that knocked him out and beat him up, his head was severely injured which left him comatosed.

To avoid war and conflicts, the council acted fast to find the culprits and publicly execute them, but that was not enough.. Kantou parliament wasn't going to let that slide so fast as Takeomi showed no signs of recovery and they had to resort to preparing the spare for the role of a crown prince.

Said spare, Haruchiyo Akashi - now Sanzu for safety measurements - also received the most awaited duty of an heir; to conceive a child, that's when Shibuya council jumped at the chance to offer a peace treaty by making arrangements to marry off their beloved princess, (name), to Sanzu so all ends contently.

Or so they thought.

The tower dared not talk back to Kisaki after reminding them how important this marriage was for the sake of peace, all were convinced there was no way around this, either she marries Sanzu or war it is.

"Am glad we're all in the same page, however...", He turned to face the bride-to-be with a nerve-wrecking smile, "I'm curious..."

The princess gave him a puzzled look at what he was building up to.

"what made you to change your mind two days before the wedding..."

Her expression twisted when he finished off, "maybe another man ?"

She broke into cold sweat at the indirect mention of Rindou, all the ways they could try to hurt him if she admits anything....

The silence made it too late.

"And there you have it, gentlemen."

A loud slam was heard from across the room...

The king tossed his chair away and made his way to where the princess was standing, "is it true ?"

Upon receiving no answer a loud slap echoed, "you whore... who is he? Give me the name. Now."

She held her cheek and tears streamed down her face. Still no answer. The king's expression got dark and enraged he ordered, "That settles it."

The king turned to face the council, "Princess (Name) is to be wed to Prince Haruchiyo by the chosen date", he got back to her once again, "and you better cut off your little affair if you know what's good for you.

End of."

With that, the meeting ended and the men in the room were dismissed.

The princess ran away from the tower and seeked refuge in her chamber, the ladies-in-waiting in there hovered over their crying lady as she covered her face with her hands and sobbed loudly, they couldn't make up what she was saying while she sniffled between words.

In a blow up moment, (name) ordered everybody out harshly, and was left alone to hear her own ragged breathing.

She moved near the mirror and stared wide-eyed into her own eyes in the reflection, in disbelief of the mess she looked like...

(Name) sat still in front of the mirror and stared coldly back at her own eyes in the reflection while the maid was adding the final touch to the flower crown to the bride, she had been all dolled up for the Prince; the royal family requested the best tailors from the west to specifically make her the most majestic wedding dress - that was singlehandedly made of 7 layers from the finest fabrics in the empire - to speak of years to come, professional stylists and beauticians travelled across the empire to Kantou kingdom just for the darling princess' most suitable hair style and cosmetics.

None of that impressed her. Truly acting like a lifeless doll since arriving to her new home, the Kantou kingdom. Absent-mindedly being bathed by the maids, she stared into the abyss as the warm water ran down her body.

"You're beautiful..."

The door opened and another maid curtsied, "it is time, my lady"

Her vision blurred when she stood up and her hearing was muffled, she walked down the hallway within her 'home' and made up the nobleladies talking to her but not their words.

She've been to the Kantou palace many times, but it felt strange and unfamiliar like it was her first time seeing this path.

Next thing she knew the door was creaking and the lights in the venue almost blinded her, faded faces were staring her way awaiting for her arrival, the musicians changed the song into what sounded like her dreadful fate...

Douce dame jolie,

Pour dieu ne pensés mie...

(Sweet, beautiful lady,

For god's sake, do not think...)

the guests lowered their wine glasses, and the cleric moved next to her so soon-to-be father-in-law, King Akashi...

Que nulle ait signorie...

(That anyone rules over me...)

The Shibuya kingdom king closer than everyone, ready to walk her down the aisle towards a classy pink-haired gentleman that's further from her than everyone, he had his hands clasped clearly waiting more impatiently than everyone else for his bride's move...

Seur moy fors vous seulement...

( But you alone...)

But she can only recognise Rindou in the crowd, misty-eyed with dark circles, his lips curved into a pout and she felt her heart break to the right person being in the wrong place...

Qu'adès sans tricherie...

Chierie...

(For endlessly and without falsehood...

I have cherished you...)

Feeling alive again, (name) unmindfully moved forward, only to be cuffed to her father's arm taking her to the luxurious dungeons known as her fate -or hell in her made up world...

Vous ay et humblement...

(And humbly...)

She stared around once more and the image was clear again. This is happening... her eyes widened at seeing the cleric and Sanzu getting closer from her point of view...

Tous les jours de ma vie...

Servie...

(All the days of my life...

I have served you...)

she turned her head to see the duke, he had the thousand yard stare like she never saw him before whilst Ran had a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, worried for him...

Sans villain pensement...

(With no unworthy thought...)

The king kissed his child's forehead through the veil and extended her hand to hold the groom's - who helped her up by his side - and the cleric began speaking, "we are gathered here today by god's will to join this man and this woman..."

Helas! et je mendie...

D'esperance et d'aïe...

(Alas! And i beg...

For hope and aid...)

The cleric's voice went faint as Sanzu turned his head and murmered kindly to his young bride's ear, "My princess, I'm grateful that you're the one with whom I'll spend the rest of my life..."

Dont ma joie est fenie...

(For my joy is ended...)

Her eyelids kept twitching at the overload of her thoughts, memories, and visions. Glancing at the middle akashi next to her, he is stunning; his long rosy hair neat and tied in a ponytail only one strand of hair fell on his face but it wasn't out of place, his white and golden ensemble made him look more king-like than a prince, he wore a small smirk on his soft pink lips that can only be seen from his side profile - where she was standing - the only thing topping all that are his ocean eyes underneath his long snow eyelashes. The man was god-crafted...

Se pité ne vous en prent...

(If you do not take pity...)

The cleric arranged the clock and gave both of them time to read out their vows, hand in hand, locked eyes, and the vows were coming to an end - and so was the future for her...

Douce dame jolie,

Pour dieu ne pensés mie...

Que nulle ait signorie,

Seur moy fors vous seulement...

(Sweet, beautiful lady,

For god's sake, do not think...

That anyone rules over me,

But you alone...)

"I hereby pronounce you husband and wife, You may now kiss the bride."

Mais vo douce maistrie...

Maistrie...

(But your sweet mastery...

Masters...)

Sanzu lifted the Princess' veil, her paranoid eyes gazed into his love-struck ones and his hands lovingly stroke her cheeks as he held her...

Mon cuer si durement...

(My heart so harshly...)

Rindou couldn't watch anymore and dropped his head with the scene unfolding, closing his eyes tightly and fighting the tears...

Qu'elle le contralie...

Et lie...

(That it torments...

And binds it...)

Ran watched worriedly on behalf of his brother at the newlyweds sharing their first kiss and the crowd cheering loudly, he - unlike them - understand the dynamics around the room and couldn't enjoy the ceremony like the rest of the invitees...

En amour tellement.

(So much in love.)

A giant table was set after the ceremony for the royal families and their guests, serving gallons of alcohol that filled their golden chalices. Everyone was too focused on their ceremonial beverage whilst (name) hopelessly searched for Rindou with her eyes, no sign of him anywhere.

King akashi got up and raised his wine, drawing everyone's attention towards him, "this is a toast... to my daughter-in-law! welcome to the family (name)."

The young royal snapped out of her headspace and thanked him quietly, when her king followed next, "My old friend... this is a toast to our new family bond... TO FAMILY!!"

The men and women raised their own drinks and applauded to their drunken speech, every second that passes by in that dining hall, the princess shifts closer to insanity, things can only get worse for her when she accidentally overheard her husband's cousin make a remark to him, telling him to monitor his drinking to stay awake tonight, and she felt sick to her stomach at that very mention.

Sanzu did tell his drunk cousin off, but the reminder of what's to happen this night was suffocating enough.

"Not drinking, princess ?", the older haitani crept from beside her that she practically jumped on Sanzu, "it's your night, you know."

"No, I'm not gonna drink", she answered him and he hummed swirling the wine goblet in his hand, on her other side, Sanzu scolded his old acquaintance, "leave her alone, Ran."

"You are of luck...", added Ran, "not anyone can melt down stones..."

Sanzu scoffed at that metaphor and took another sip of his whiskey, but (name) understood whom he really meant.

He got up to walk away, "Take care of him, (name)... he doesn't show it too often but he needs your love.", the Roppongi prince's disguised request flew over everyone's head, only he and his brother's lover knew the real meaning behind his blessing.

Ran smiled, "and that maid is a looker.", he winked playfully and left the dining hall, the comment confused her until she turned to find said maid approaching to announce in her ears,

"it is time to go to the bridal chamber, my lady."

The way to the bridal chamber was uncomfortable, she could hear her heartbeats pounding excessively, she tripped over her own feet a couple of times and the night wasn't lookong so great from here.

Her legs froze in their place at the presence of Rindou on the way, looking at her like a kicked puppy. If it weren't for the maids, she would've jumped in his arms immediately.

She stared at him tenderly, the most joyful she has been all day, she stood there silently in hope he'd say anything, absolutely anything and she would agree and leave with him wherever. But the princess' pain was immeasurable when he averted his eyes. 'Oh... he doesn't care anymore...'

"Leave, Rindou...", (Name) whimpered, "this my first night what do you still need here..."

The duke's silence done nothing but infuriate her and the tears streaming down her face grew warmer that she snapped at him,

"I... I... I... I TRIED- AND- AND YOU'RE- YOU'RE HE...RE- JUST WHAT ARE- WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE???????!!!!!!!!", she stammered in her cries, beating his chest with both her fists until he held them tightly with his own, "LEAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!! JU- JUST... GO.... LEAVE ME RIN...DOU..."

His heart shattered at hearing his love bawling - because of him nonetheless - so he respected her wish and left her as a shell of a woman.

The maids stepped closer to hold the crying lady, escorting her away from the hall, unbothered to any drama only fulfilling their mission to get her ready for their nuptial night.

Changing her into a cream lace nightgown didn't do much to stop the princess from crying a river, the older maid of the two taking care of her kept telling her stuff about a woman's duty to endure pain for her husband and some other nonsense she didn't care enough to listen to.

'This is wrong... this is all wrong...'

She lived this scene before; getting ready waiting for her man under the moonlight, and it isn't as charming the second time, most definitely because the man about to enter the chamber is her childhood friend and not the one she loved and lost her virginity to.

Not one, but two relationships are about to be ruined by this night... if the fight with Rindou didn't already do enough damage that is.

When the young maid let go of her hair and they both curtsied, there was no need to look at the door to figure her fate arrived.

Sanzu ordered both maids out and approached the bed, she had already stopped crying from alarm but was now in the mood to bite if he tried anything funny. It was on to the second stage of heartbreak, full fury.

He placed his hand with care under her chin and moved her face to meet his, she finally noticed him; he had let his long pink hair down and left the bangs fall on his face really close to his half-lidded eyes, a pink blush covered his face as he still had that smirk on his scarred lips, staring down his white and golden robe was now open revealing his abs - even though Rindou was more muscular - and one last thing she noticed was a red dagger tied to his belt before drawing her attention again, "look at me..."

"Why was my wife crying ? This is a happy occasion you know...", Sanzu muttered while his finger stroked her chin, her angry expression was the only response he got, "tell me what's wrong, pretty..."

Slowly and patiently, he brought her face closer to his own only to be pushed hard into the ground, Sanzu gave her a puzzled look, "(Nickname)? No seriously what's wrong ?"

"Everything was just alright. Thank you", the bride responded harshly and stomped away from him.

The prince got up on his feet to follow her and held a hand in place as she struggled, "wait- you can't- where are you going ?"

"None of your business.", She freed her hand from his grasp and pushed him again this time not strong enough to trip him down, "and i have no business here with a jester like you."

Sanzu held her back in place, hugging from behind with one arm holding her wrists down in another, "come on there is no need to keep pushing me, sit still so we can talk!!!"

"LET GO OF ME!!!", they kept struggling like that, the princess trying to free herself by knocking him down while he kept her in place.

"Promise you won't push again first.", she eventually nodded so he retreated a few steps still holding her left wrist gently, "now, look at me and just talk..."

She turned furiously and slapped him, "just talk ???? JUST TALK????? I don't want you !!!!! I don't want to marry you !!!!!! what's so hard to understand ??????"

Sanzu held his cheek shockingly at the outburst of the princess he knew and grew up with all his life, he never saw her like this nor did they ever have to get violant. The graceful and elegant Shibuya's sweetheart princess losing her composure and letting it all out on her childhood friend - now husband - it was like witnessing a headline for stories to come, really taking him aback. This was not the (name) he knew, something was extremely wrong and he stayed quiet to listen in if she tells him.

She saw red just by staring at him, his entire being was irritating her, she tried to slap him again but he dodged, the pent-up rage from the entire day has reached its limit and now the culprit was right in front of her, she went on to attack him but he still overpowered her, "calm down!!!!! (Name)!!!!!!"

"You don't get it- You never will !!!!!!!!! You won't understand what it's like !!!!!!!!!!!! Being a DEAL....... a god damn PRODUCT!!!!!!!!!!! You're to blame!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF TRASH- FOOLISH BASTARD-", Sanzu didn't say anything as his wife was losing her sanity and kept on insulting and yelling at him, still trying to land a hit on him but he controlled their position enough to hold her close as she cried in his arms in the end.

The second Akashi son picked (name) up bridal style and tucked her in bed, watching her closely cry herself to sleep. When the room finally got quiet from the sniffs, he took put his dagger and it on his finger to see how sharp it is.

As quiet as he can, he stabbed his own hand and left the blood drip on the mattress.

"Sleep well..."

The next morning, two maids opened the curtains to sneak the sunshine in, the princess woke up anxiously and examined her surroundings, oh, that's right, she lives in Kantou palace now.

"Good morning, my lady.", a maid curtsied before her.

"...where's Haru ?"

"His royal highness woke up a long time ago and he told me to inform you he wished to have breakfast with the entire royal family before his departure to close a deal with an old acquaintance so they are now waiting for your arrival", the princess stared half-mindedly at the woman standing, then at the ones behind her.

"... I will be there in a minute.", she tried getting up but almost fell, the three women rushed to her side, two of them staying to help her change into a presentable gown, the last one took the blooded mattress specifically and left behind everything else.

She looked at the ground, mind occupied by last night and how she treated Haruchiyo. If she must be honest, she'd say she feels ashamed to see him again, but to be sincere, she needs to apologise, so she took a couple of deep breaths, and headed to the garden.

The atmosphere in the garden was rather calming, enough to distract her from the tense one she's living, the flora and the breeze warmed up a spot inside her broken heart.

"Oooohhhhh~ siiiiiiiiiisterrrrr innnnn lawwwwww~"

(Name) followed the voice to find the grand duchess, Senju Akashi, waving for her to join their breakfast table. She did find a spot next to Haruchiyo, but tried finding another to avoid the awkwardness, unfortunately, there was exactly five chairs; King Akashi always sits at the head of the table, the seat that was supposed to be opposite of him taken away, Senju facing her brother and sitting next to her grandmother. Oh. Meaning the only chair left was supposed to be Takeomi's. How unpleasant.

The Kantou princess swallowed her pride and sat next to her spouse, deciding to only apologise when they're alone. Sanzu, however, didn't get that idea as he put the food down and gazed worriedly at his life-long friend changing towards him the moment she became his wife.

The king broke the tension by starting small talk, "What a joyous twist of events!!! i remember you kids being inseparable... oh, i also remember my Senju here begging to play with you two, but her brother scolds her and she comes crying to me!"

"DAD!!!", The old king laughed at his daughter's embarrasment of the memory, the newest Akashi consort found their bond adorable, Senju's open behaviour with her father was something Shibuya royal life couldn't allow for her own.

Despite the mention of Takeomi saddening them, Haruchiyo chuckled at his sister too and they shared a small happy family moment.

"Oh come on, Haru, Dad also brought up you two inseparable love birds~", Senju teased her brother.

"Senju don't-"

"I wonder how inseparable you were last n- OUCH!!!!!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?????", Sanzu pinched his sister before she could finish her sentence, "I said. Don't."

"WHAT DID I DO NOW???!!!!"

"Your brother is right, Dear, that's a private matter."

"I was just curioussssss!!!! Back me up here, nana!!!!", the energetic girl shook the old lady slightly, getting no reaction at all, she couldn't even hear her.

On the contrary, the woman only looked over to see (Name) and smiled brightly, "grandson... who is this lovely lady ?"

The princess couldn't help but smile back, she could feel the pain following her the past three days soothing. Her husband equally as relaxed by seeing her smile after their intense fight.

"It's your grandson's wife, mother", Father Akashi answered her.

"What ?"

"YOUR GRANDSON'S WIFE!!!!", Senju raised her voice for the antecedent queen to hear better.

"Greatson is alive ? Congratulations", Senju frowned at her failure when the two men broke into laughter.

"Oh don't disappoint your nana son, do give her a great-grandson! I'm waiting for my grandson as well"

"Oh, for sure...", Haruchiyo's reply made the noble lady put down her utensils, "...At this rate we will get you as many grandchildren as you wish!"

The princess' smile dropped as rage boiled up inside her, she slammed the table getting up and left her in-laws in confusion, Sanzu got up to run after her but she kept running away from him, "(Name) WAIT!!!!!" "GO AWAY!!!"

The prince managed to corner her before she could reach the gates and whisper-shouted, "why did you leave like that ??!! What now ???!!!"

"You little- Who do you think you are ?! I will not bare your children!!!! Who even said i will agree to consumate this marriage ?!", She argued.

"Shhhhhh lower down your voice, if the council find out your hymen didn't even break, you will be in bigger trouble than i am and you should know that by now!!", he got closer to answer back in a low voice, "listen, (name), i'm serious don't mention that outloud again!! I'm sorry... but they don't care about you, they just see you as a womb, and they won't hesitate to hurt you... not even I can protect you from their panorama that far, so please just... cooperate and play nice till we have that heir and they will leave you alone... please."

The princess gave him a piercing glare and murmered, "You can not threaten me into letting you impregnate me, Haruchiyo..."

"I'M NOT-", The stressed man sighed and ran his fingers through his hair to pull himself together, "that is not what i said, we will have that child whenever you feel like it... but for the time being do not make it too obvious. For your own. Safety."

She moved dangerously close to his face, "And we are having that child never."

Yelping as Sanzu held her face with one hand, his expression got dark, "I have been saying since morning, we don't have much choice here."

She almost fell when he let go, this time it was his turn to show hostility in his tone, "Weither you liked it or not, it is the only fucking reason you are here, so you can give me an offspring. I am not a fucking god to alter every course of your reality that you do not like, give me a fucking break, i'm trying my best here. Welcome to your new life now."

(Name) took a step back and left running, she can hear her husband calling for her to come back but her tears decided trusting him won't be a choice anymore.

She ordered the guards by the gate to prepare her a carriage in a hurry.

'I won't stay here a minute longer...'

The princess sobbed on the entire way to Roppongi kingdom, the place where she felt love at its peak.

She needs to see Rindou now, whatever it takes.

Passing by the vast fields from the Haitanis' territory, the sharp feelings since confronting the council ate away the allure and innocence of the first impression she had on the route to their castle .

"i'll be with you through every minute"

Rindou's husky voice recited again and again in her thoughts to convince herself this is the right thing to do, be with the younger Haitani, always and forever.

She payed no attention to anything but the daydream to embrace him, not the carriage stopping at the center of the estate, not the guards dropping their heads low in her presence, not all gates opening to pave the way, not the servants trying to interrogate her visit, no one and nothing were cared for.

(Name) approached the stairs, determined to reach her lover's room when she was stopped by the older Haitani, "Princess ? What are you doing here ?"

"I made a mistake, Ran...", 'pushing him away last night', "I need to speak to Rindou!!!

"I don't know about that, (name)... meeting Rindou now is a bad idea-"

"Please- i really need to see him please..."

"(Name)... it's risky i mean... does your husband even know you're here?"

She began to weep again and Ran found himself with no choice, "No nononononono- look look it's alright you can go talk to him, but make it quick! He's in the Library, here let me show you the way..."

The princess wiped her tears and followed him, recklessly running to where Ran was pointing when they got closer and swinging the door open.

"RIN!!!!"

"...Princess?!", Rindou tossed his book away getting up hastily from the chair, his hair was a mess and his face looked tired, it doesn't take a genius to figure out he hadn't slept that night.

No time wasted, she jumped into his arms, "oh Rinny... i'm so sorry i should have never let you go... i love you!!"

At loss for words, the duke hugged her back hesitantly, "My princess, i love you too but...", carefully he broke apart from the hug, "... you're not mine anymore..."

"Don't say that, Rin!!! of course i'm yours i...", (Name) looked him deep in the eyes and caressed his cheek, "I only belong to you..."

Rindou put the hand on his cheek down and held it tightly, he summed up the courage to tell her in a cracking voice, "You have a husband now, (Name), this is your chance to live happily ever after... and it wouldn't be love if i ruin it..."

"No... no Rindou don't- i don't love him, Rin... you're... the only one i can live happily with i-... my body and soul, both are yours, i will never let anyone possess them after you..."

Catching her hint, the man finally brightened up and gave in to his desire to keep holding her, happily taking her in his arms.

Caught up in the moment, they leaned in to kiss passionately, the kiss escalated to Rindou grobing her lustfully as she kept moaning his name into his lips.

Rindou moved to her neck, leaving hickies left and right, she opened her eyes for a moment to find herself staring into familiar blue eyes with long snow eyelashes by the open door.

...

Oh, the old acquaintance he had to close a deal with...

A/N: Thank you so much for reading <3 (There will be way more Sanzu next chapter cuz i feel bad for him)

@sagephilosophie

#Royal Request #i write!#tokyo revengers x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani x you #tokrev x reader #rindou haitani smut #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokrev #tokyo revengers #rindou haitani #ran haitani #royalty au #vee's

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mesukohi · 1 year

Text

A Crochet made of Blades

Summary:

Knives saved you from the cruel hands of humanity. You are not sure what his purpose is or why he did it, but after learning about his special day, you wanted to thank him with a small gift.

Note: A little Knives fluff if you squint hard enough (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

The sounds created by Knives's grand piano echoed through the halls, the song pristine on your ears that it almost always lulled you to sleep. You are not sure what the title of this symphony is, if it has one, nor if its melody is even comprehensible to the mind of a mere human being but hearing it was something you look forward to ever since he took you from your hometown.

It was years ago. Maybe three or so. Time is difficult to grasp when you are inside a building without many windows, and it also doesn't help that you don't have the freedom to see the outside world often, not unless there is an order or permission. Still, you are thankful of him. To many, he may be a ruthless killer- a villain that is beyond redemption. He has slaughtered hundreds- maybe thousands of humans and took their plants- a source of life that is significant at every city in Noman's land. However, to you, he is a nothing but a savior. The red stain that once painted his pale skin- blood that belonged to your former owners- was a sight that is gratefully engraved in the depths of mind. The thought made you chuckle. Perhaps you are crazy. Anyone who witnesses a murder would be thinking the other way around but you already have lost your faith in humanity long ago that caring for other people's wellbeing is none of your concern anymore. You just need to survive. And to survive is to focus on yourself and what's good for you.

Perhaps that's why he spared you.

You are a survivor.

The bruises that decorated your body and the broken bones told him so. The relief he saw in your eyes as he allowed you to defile the bodies of your abusers showed him that you are different- perhaps special- and could be of use.

And he was right. He always is. You were loyal. You did everything as he told. You supported his cause. You betrayed your fellow humans for him because you believe in him and his ideals.

Humans are selfish creatures. They will take advantage of anyone and anything that could give them the upper hand. May it be a lost girl with no one to confide to or a plant with limited energy. It is in their nature to make use and destroy.

And you want to thank him for waking you to this mentality. You fumbled on your gift, hands trembling as you walked closer to your destination. Every note leaving his piano grows louder at each step you take until you reached the threshold to his lair. You have been to this room before, the rare times when he allowed you to accompany him or humored you onto listening to his symphonies, yet still, you couldn't help but sigh in awe everytime you see the planetarium like crevice. The ceiling was made of glass, showing the outside sky that is currently painted with strokes of purple and orange. Every wall seemed to be made of precious metals, the lights only making them look gold, sterile, and immaculate. There wasn't any furniture at bay, not like he needed any. It was just him, his piano and the seat that accompanied it.

Seeing that you were distracted by the scenery, you didn't notice how the melody bouncing against the walls has already stopped, a chill running on your spine when you heard Knives spoke, back turned to you, his long fingers still pressed against the keys.

"What brings you here?"

His voice was cold, emotionless. Anyone would have been running for the hills upon hearing this but you were too blinded with dedication to even care. Still, your heart began a nervous beat, knowing how unpredictable this plant- man can be.

"You have one chance. Tell me what's so important that you have decided to consume my precious time" he reiterated, not even bothering to look at you.

"I...." Suddenly, you couldn't find your tongue. All the confidence that brought you to where you stand is gone and fading on the wind. Even though your loyalty is absolute for this man, you couldn't help but be afraid of him. He is after all "Millions Knives" an independent who seeks the end of humans such as yourself.

"F-forgive me for intruding Master Knives, It's just that..." You fumbled at the gift you are hiding behind your back, finally gaining the courage to speak. Perhaps being direct on what your purpose is would calm him a bit "The doctor told me that today is a special day for you. To be honest, I never knew how independent plants like you are created- if you are even born or artificially made but, I learned that today is your birthday so I have you this"

You shyly presented your gift. It is a crocheted scarf, the same color as his cloak. You have worked on this gift for a month, maybe two, your hands trembling from remaking it over and over especially when you see even the tiniest bit of imperfections because you want it to be perfect for him. A perfect gift for a perfect being.

"I know material things does not matter to you, but I am looking forward into giving you an offering for everything that you have done for me. I don't really have enough money to buy you anything of good quality or extravagant so I thought It would be best to just give you something that is handcrafted... e-even though it is created by the hands of a human like myself" You whispered the last part, knowing that it is the ultimate flaw of your gift.

He finally turns on his seat, one hand still pressed on the piano as his piercing blue eyes scanned your face and down to the scarf in you hands. His gazed was filled with curiosity, the palm that once settled in the keys of his favorite instrument now raising to be placed in front of him. He didn't speak, but his gesture suggested that he wanted to look at the item closer- so walk closer you did, feet dragging nervously against the floor until you were five steps near him. You slowly placed the scarf on his hand, not wanting to move brashly or perhaps excitedly at his presence now that he seems interested on your gift.

Immediately, he examined the cloth, assessing and feeling the softness of the material. One of his brows raises slightly, one that you couldn't interpret wether it's from amusement or critique. The slight tug of his lips suggested the former though, his irises now finding yours.

"This is impressive work coming from a mere human's hand" he praised, and you couldn't help but smile despite his somehow condescending tone.

"T-thank you, Master Knives" you replied, now playing with your fingers shyly. Your right eye twitches at the action, a painful sensation enveloping your digits as you grazed one of the many cuts that you received from making the scarf.

This reaction does not escape Knives as his vision drags on the level of your waist where your hands played clumsily. You noticed his stare and immediately hid them behind your back, smiling awkwardly as an excuse.

He squints at you, the expression showing suspicion and inquisitiveness at the same time. After folding the scarf neatly, he placed it atop his beloved piano before turning back at you, repeating the same gesture he did earlier when he wanted to examine your gift.

Your eyes widen. This the first time he has initiated to touch you. In the three years that you had followed and served him, never did he even stood five feet close to you. You were wondering why he have decided to all of a sudden, and you are more than sure that it is not just because you have given him an offering. Still, you remained unmoved. If you were to be honest, showing him your wounds is embarrassing for you since it symbolizes your struggle. How something so simple to create has defeated you before you could perfect it. How something so trivial for a being like knives who can create anything with a snap of his finger, was weeks of hard labor for you. Your gaze was fixed on the floor, now realizing how idiotic this whole ordeal was. Knives didn't need a gift. He doesn't need anything from you.

"Show me your hands, human" he finally spoke, tone filled with impatience. You finally looked at him, the command in his voice forcing you to obey.

Swallowing dry, you slowly placed your hands against his, revealing its state. There lies old and new stabs on your digits from when you struggled to use the pin, a couple of band aids hiding the fresher ones as well as a few spots of calluses from where you pressed too hard. He stared at those imperfections, clearly amused, until you felt one of his nails drag lazily into one of your wounds, scratching and digging at the scab until it opened and showed the insides of your skin. Blood seeped and painted a thin line of red across your palm, the fluid reaching the center and pooling there, mimicking a small piece of ruby. You couldn't help but huff at the pain his ministration caused, teeth biting your lower lip as he looked up at you from where he sat, gaze filled with mischief.

"I have to say, even though I loathed humans like yourself for your selfish, destructive capabilities, there is one unique trait in your kind that has slightly earned my curiosity" he admitted, voice in between apathy and admiration.

"May I know what is it, Master knives?" you asked, genuinely intrigued.

"It is how you exert effort when something is in line with your wants. Whether if that want is dedicated to creating or causing destruction. It is... quite appealing how you lust for achievement even if it can lead to your own felling"

Your mouth hung open, incredulous. This is the first time that you heard him express anything remotely positive regarding your kind despite his nonchalant way of speaking.

"I-Im..." you stammered, not entirely sure whether you should add to his thoughts or not. His eyebrows raised with perplexity, prompting you to continue "I don't think you can say that any creature is truly alive if they don't have anything they want to achieve, Master. If they do, they'd be as stagnant as a pond on a desert. Every creature has their own individual desires. The only difference is the weight of effort they use to achieve it or if they have the strength to cross the thin line that leads for that effort to be considered a sacrifice"

He seemed to approve of your answer, one thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin, his gaze never leaving you. A rosey tint decorates your cheeks, almost mimicking the blood on your palms as he slowly released it, your hands finding its way to your chest to feel the queasy beat of your heart. You were confused. All these years of blindly serving under Knives's command, you never quite felt like this. It is a strange feeling. It is as though butterflies had begun flying inside your stomach, your throat dry as he turned towards his piano again- not to play a piece but to place his fingers atop the sitting scarf, looking satisfied to say the least.

"I appreciate your gift. It's been so long since anyone has attempted to show gratitude of my existence" he admitted, looking as if he is deep in thought.

A deafening silence ensues and you stood there, nailed to your feet, processing the new found feelings drumming in your chest. When he started playing the piano once again, you contemplated wether he wants you to stay and listen or that you are already dismissed. You thought of the latter to be the clearer option and gave him a small bow before turning on your heels to leave. Your breath is heavy, but at least today is a success. You were able to show him gratitude like you've planned, a giddy smile painting your lips--- that is until he spoke once again.

"Your heart is beating faster than normal" he stated, a matter of fact.

You stopped on your tracks, wanting to slap yourself. Knives physically appears to be human- maybe a little bit more ethereal looking- but sometimes you forget that he's not just a man but a being graced by whoever created the universe and that he has the ability to sense what ordinary humans cannot.

"If there is something bothering you, tell me so. Take it as a reward for the little offering you have given me today" he proposed, as he continued to produce melodies with his fingers.

This is one of the rare occasions that he wants to talk to you. At the times that he did, it is to ramble about his plans or to brief you about a task that he wants you to execute. However, today, he seems to want to humor you- the human side of you- and the wonder that comes with it.

"Have you... ever celebrated your birthdays before, Master Knives?" you asked, not only because you are genuinely curious, but also to deflect the topic of whatever is happening currently to your heart.

He stops playing. You were familiar enough of the piece to know that he halted just three notes before the chorus. His head turns to you, his mood appearing more pleasant than earlier.

"Once. But that was a long time ago to even consider" he chuckled lightly, looking as though he was reminiscing a distant memory "With how everything is- the execution of my ideals and all- something such as the celebration of my creation does not seem to be of importance. I don't have the time or the company for it. However... It would seem that has recently changed"

He gave you a simper. Although this time, it appears to have a different meaning. You could compare it to the smirks men gave you back in your hometown. An expression that implies teasing? Maybe interest? You are not sure. It's not as if you have the time to understand it back then. A whip on your back from your former owner would be the result if you ever indulged on such attention. Nevertheless, you couldn't help but feel a heat travel to your cheeks. The butterflies are back again and there is this overwhelming of feeling... Shyness? Yes, its definitely shyness. It's as though you feel bare in front of him- vulnerable even- like you're suddenly concerned of the expressions that you show him, how your face look or if your hair is in place.

You attention was back to him when you saw him crook his head to the side. He is waiting a reply from you, and instinctively, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

"T-then I promise that from now on, I will celebrate it for you! You are a grace to this world Master Knives. To your brother and your sisters. You are the light that gave us hope, even to a lowly human like myself. You can expect a gift from me every year. I will try my hardest to offer you the best!"

Your breathing was labored like your brain is floating in the clouds- a pleasant kind of high that will definitely have you addicted.

"You really think so highly of me?" he asked, smirk getting wider "I must admit, it feels good to have someone see me as such despite knowing that your fellow humans sees otherwise"

"What they think does not matter when they will be six feet underground soon" you spewed, voice filled with disdain "What matters most is how we, your loyal followers sees you. And I see you as my saviour Master Knives... Nothing will ever change that"

"Nothing you say?"

In a heartbeat, you saw a flash of light and heard the sounds of metal hitting against metal. Knives has stood up and is infront of you, looming down like a predator cornering his prey. You could feel his breath from how close he was, his scent- sweat, sand and sandalwood- fills your nose. Your eyes widens in reflex, not just because of the close proximity but because he has summoned his blades, their tips surrounding you similar to guns being aimed and ready to shoot.

"I saved your life. I own it and I could take it anytime I want" he dictated, one vine of razors making it's way to your throat and another encircling your waist. "You lowly humans think highly of anyone that you owe favors to. All these years, you have betrayed your kind, slaughtered on my behalf and harmed numerous cities. How can I be sure that a traitorous human like yourself will never turn back at me?"

One of his blades presses at the skin of your neck, drawing blood. You huffed at the sensation, irises never leaving his as you spoke.

"The day you took me from the abusive hands of my brethren was the day I officially thought of myself as a living being. You took me in, gave me a purpose and with that, I will support you until the day that your ideals came true" you enunciated, praising yourself inwardly for not stuttering "You can take my life at any time you want Master Knives, but please do know that I am prepared to offer all my time and strength for your cause. Giving me an early grave would set aside the things that I could have possibly contributed... " You bit your lip, somehow afraid of your next proposal "...perhaps I can show my undying loyalty by offering an arm or a leg instead?"

He leers at you, ice like orbs shining with amusement as the corners of his lips tugged into a impish smile. Somehow, despite clearly seeing his angelic features, you felt a cold chill climbing your spine.

"Close your eyes" he commanded.

And you did as you were told. You heard his blades move, the sounds comparable to a haunting lullaby to your ears. Millions of thoughts were running on your mind, distracting you from the inevitable pain that has to come. Briefly, you wondered wether the doctor will give you a prosthesis after this. Surely, carrying out tasks would be difficult with a missing limb.

And when you felt one of his blades hover against your right arm, you sucked in a deep breath. This will be extremely painful, your fingers trembling to at least have a leverage to hold on to. There is no furniture nearby and holding on to Knives's himself would probably cause you your neck as well. Thus, you took the most convenient path and bit the insides of your lips, prepared to feel your flesh and bones snap.

But it didn't came.

Instead, what you felt was a hand being placed on your cheek, your master's breath fanning your face as you peeked at him from beneath your lashes, his face merely centimeters from yours. Your eyes widens in surprise. He has initiated to touch you and hasn't let go even after a minute has passed. He appears to be observing you, a pleased expression crossing his visage as you looked at him with so much confusion. Still, you couldn't help but flush. Your heart has begun to beat faster again, the bashful feeling from inside you is back with a vengeance as your gaze lowered towards anywhere but Knives.

"Master, I----"

"I can't believe a pitiful human like yourself would have the strength to show me dedication like this.. I'm blessed to have met you" he cuts you off.

By this time, you're sure that you'd have to pick your jaw from the floor. He has directly praised you. Something he never did even to the doctor or Legato.

"T-thank you, Master Knives" you stammered, completely grateful from hearing his words.

He makes a contented hum, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he decided to let go, the place where he touched you now leaving a burning sensation on its wake. You watched him as he sat in front of his piano once again, fingers beginning to press it's keys as a satisfied smile lifted his lips.

"I appreciate your actions today Y/n. I am looking forward for what you have to offer next" he said, eyeing you playfully from his periphery "You're dismissed. I will call you when I need you... Something I assure you that will happen quite often"

There was a deep sultry tone when he spoke of the last sentence, a melody that has waked goosebumps on you more than the piece he is playing. With a bow, you left his lair, the widest smile fixed on your lips as you walked through the halls back to your room, wondering what kind of gift you would give him the very next year.

#wrote this in one night #no beta we die like Rem #also inspired by my convos with his chat ai #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede fanfic #millions knives #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #fanfic #a knives fluff no one asked for #if you could call it that

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