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#like as a single entity but also not quite
theminecraftbee · 4 months
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since we’re quite literally in the last hours of season nine, I just sort of want to go over the INSANE NUMBER OF THINGS that happened this season:
the spawn village!
the whole entity thing. remember when the fandom was insane about the entity for like two months.
the egg hunt!
the diamond pillar contest!
hotguy became a thing!
KING REN, a storyline that lasted several months and included:
a quest system people actually quite liked!
corruption that people somewhat disliked!
oh wait now it’s time for SCAR’S CHARITY STREAM! remember that happened this season? it raised an absurd amount of money? YEAH.
also total chaos goes somewhere around here on the timeline I think.
the king ren minigame finale!
TCG! the TCG happened here!
THE CROSSOVER! let’s not forget HOW COOL THE CROSSOVER WAS, shall we?
I think I’m allowed to put mcytblr sexyman on here next because while that wasn’t the fault of the hermits it feels like it should go on any fandom timeline here and also joe DID technically bring it to the server.
I want to repeat: THE TCG HAPPENED IT WAS EXTREMELY GOOD THE ENTIRE SERVER PLAYED IT FOR MONTHS. it feels like THAT was a season ago at this point, man…
false’s elytra course goes like… right here!
gem starts collecting everyone’s head in the latter half of the season I think but I can’t remember exactly when.
the museum conflict starts about here! cleo and cub start both building museums!
the perimeter versus the buttercups, capped off with the single most impressive hermitcraft prank of all time!
scarland opens!
DECKED OUT 2 OPENS!!!
blue river raceway happens!
and SO MANY MORE hermit adventures, each in their own episodes! I’m sure I missed SOMETHING here—I was mostly going for storylines that involved more than one hermit, and even then i keep on forgetting stuff happened this season, lol.
and finally, out of order but worth noting: rest peacefully, TFC.
goodbye, season nine. what a season you were!
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compact-turtle · 1 year
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Yandere Space Explorer X GN Reader PT 1
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Concept: Yandere Space Explorer X GN Reader
Part One
Summary: Yandere Space Explorer crashes on an unknown planet. He's miserable until he meets you...
TW: Obsession, Possessiveness, Usual yandere behavior yk , brief mention of pregnancy
Words: 1.4K
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-Yandere Space Explorer who gets stranded on a different planet. His aircraft crash landed in the middle of a thick canopy jungle. The gray communicator pad was damaged in the crash and his supplies are slowly dwindling. He’s sure that he’s gonna die on this foreign planet all alone. 
-His days are filled with endless sorrow and regret for taking on this mission. Of course, he understood the risks. He may never return, he could encounter a hostile entity, and so much more. However, he had always believed he would prevail and return home as a hero. 
-One night, he abandons his camp. There’s almost no food left and he’s struggling to find a reason to survive. It doesn’t help that he’s feeling paranoid lately. Almost as if there’s been a pair of eyes always watching him. He treks deeper into the canopy hoping to find something edible. The gigantic vegetation loomed over him with tangled tree vines tripping him at every turn.
-Shiny red berries call out to him in the corner of his eyes. They beckon him to have a small sample. Consumed by desperation, he stuffs the berries into his mouth. Bitterness explodes in his mouth but it’s not enough to stop him. He engulfs the berries like a pig eating feed. Red juice dyed his hands as continually shoves his mouth full. 
-A sharp pain hits him in the back of the head.
-Yandere Space Explorer who wakes up tied to a pole. His eyes take a moment to adjust as he studies his surroundings. It’s a modest wooden home decorated in ornate trinkets. There are potted plants everywhere with beads hung up on the wall. 
-Adrenaline pumps through his veins as he searches for his attacker. It feels like hours until a figure emerges from a doorway. 
-He examines the figure. They’re dressed in a green robe with a brown satchel tied around their waist. There’s nothing remarkable about them besides their bright pink eyecolor.The figure speaks to him but he can’t understand them. The words sound like eerie shrills to his ears. 
-Finally, the figure points to themself and repeats a single word multiple times. 
“Y/N”. 
-It takes a few moments for him to understand that they’re communicating their name. 
- “Orion” The space explorer says, pointing back to himself. 
-You nod in acknowledgement. He continually attempts to communicate but gives up. It’s clear that you don't quite understand his language. 
-For the next few days, you feed him odd fruits that taste sweet with a hinge of spiciness. You address the wound on his head and clean him up. Of course, he’s still tied up but beggars can’t complain. 
-Eventually, you do set him free. Yandere Space Explorer is cautious of you however you seem harmless enough. He’s spent the past few days studying your routine and habits.
-Your day consists mainly of foraging for food in the morning until noon.
-In the afternoon, you return to feed him and check up on him. After a bit, you leave to trek the jungle again. 
-During the evening, you come home to feed him a second time. You also spend the time preparing for tomorrow’s trip or relaxing. You'll make beaded items, sing small hymns or organize the small home.
-Not everyday is the same, sometimes you switch it up. However, you never forget to feed him. Yandere Space Explorer feels that you treat him something akin to a pet. When he’s good you reward him with some white flowers to eat, and when he displeases you, you sit in the corner and pout. 
-However, after he’s released, you allow him to join you on your daily adventure. Yandere Space Explorer writes in his journal every little action you do and your little quirks. He notices that you tend to stay clear of rectangular blue plants when foraging. You seem to point your nose in disgust when you see the plant. 
-Furthermore, he makes note of the cute little squeak you make when you find something that makes you happy. 
---
-After four years on this planet (at least according to his calculations), Yandere Space Explorer had come to terms with living here. He really enjoys the simple life here with you. Go out, forage, come home then rinse and repeat. 
-At first, he thought he’d grow tired of it but never actually did. Each day offered something new and unique. You’ve shown him waterfalls that flow upwards, flowers that sing, and creatures that seem older than time. 
-His favorite part though was your attention. The way you clung to him and refused to let go. Sometimes you’d accidentally scratch him with your sharp nails. You’d fret over him since you learned how weak humans were. Hurriedly, you would kiss his wound to make him feel better. He indulged in your attention like it was a newfound drug. 
-He also made notes on everything about your species. Everyday, he closely monitored you then would scribble pages about new discoveries. Your species was stronger, faster and more resilient to pain. However, a downfall was the lack of awareness and naivety (Maybe that was exclusive to you though?) Compared to humans, your species also contained an odd trait where regardless of gender, it was possible to conceive a child. You attempted to explain the biology however your language couldn’t properly translate over. 
-You’ve made tremendous progress learning his language in four years though. Naturally, you’re no master however your intelligence amazes him. It took him a while to comprehend your language. There were so many tones or certain shrill sounds he couldn't replicate.  
- “Ri, look!” You called out. 
-He turned around to see you holding something behind your back. You were giddy and full of joy like a child on their birthday. You couldn’t stop shaking in excitement for what he assumed was his present. 
“Hm?” 
“I fix it for you! I help!” 
-You placed a worn out rectangular box in his hands. It was crudely held together with a thick leaf wrapped around it. Multiple wires sticking out. Faint glows of a purple crystal shone beneath the ill fitting top. For a moment, the space explorer was confused. He wasn’t sure what you were showing him. Still, he didn’t want you to be disappointed by his reaction. Orion leaned down and kissed your cheek. 
“Thank you, dear. I’ll keep your present safe.” 
“NO! Look! I fix!” 
-You grabbed the box from his hand and began to fiddle with it. The box whirred to life with the sounds of different frequencies screeching. He was still so confused until he heard voices on the box. This was his communicator pad that was damaged in the crash landing. 
-A while back, you’d grown curious about his origins . You constantly asked questions about why he was here, where his home was and his friends. Finally, he took you to the damaged aircraft. He showed you the inside and all the mechanics. 
-You ran around observing everything, as he stood by and explained it all to you. You let out little squeaks as you collected multiple objects. Orion enjoyed watching how excited you were about everything. 
-However, he had no idea that you kept his communication pad. Hell, he didn’t even know that you could fix it. You were always intelligent but he couldn’t imagine that you’d repair the thing. 
-Were you tired of him? Why did you fix it? Why were you trying to send him away? Had he done something wrong to displease you? 
“Now you go home!” You said proudly smiling. 
“Dear, I don’t understand? Why would I go home? I have you here with me.” 
“But friends miss you! They tell me.” 
“Won’t you be sad if I go home?”
“Little sad. But Ri should go home! Friends will be happy to see you. When plane crash, I watch you. I see you cry. You miss friends.” 
“Would you go with me?” 
“No, this is my home.” 
-You acted out the plane crashing and crying with hand motions. Orion was tempted to laugh but the situation was serious. You had somehow made contact with a Space Explorer team and they were arriving here. 
-He imagined a million different scenarios in his head. Perhaps they’d capture you and then lock you up to study. You’d be forced to complete tests and be stuck in isolation. Maybe they’d abuse you. A sweet creature like you could never handle that type of treatment.
-Or even worse…
-You’d grow attached to someone else and leave him. 
-Orion forced those thoughts down. He had to focus on the current situation. Time was of the essence to fix this problem. 
“Do you know when they’re coming, dear?” 
“In three days! I remember.” 
-You smiled proudly waiting for some type of praise. Orion gently kissed the top of your head and whispered compliments in your ear. 
-Three days would have to be enough time to prepare.
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bonzos-number-1-fan · 3 months
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What DPHW Means, and Its Relationship to Smirke's 14
The following contains spoilers for all of TMA, TMP (eps 1, 2, and 3 released currently if you’re in the future), and the ARG. Spoilers for all of this are throughout so I would advise against reading any of this unless you've listened to everything mentioned. It could also spoil episodes of TMP that have yet to release but if it does I don't think it will be a major spoiler. If I'm right I think I'm only right about a fairly trivial piece of information. 
Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre
Part 1: Opticks
Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. With or without Dekker's +1. It is, however, necessary and correct. It has also been talked about ad nauseam and isn't a topic I want to dedicate a lot of time to. Smirke's 14+1, or even TMA in general, isn't the focus of this theory nor is it that relevant past its necessity as a point of comparison.
There aren't 14+1 distinct entities in the TMA cosmology. There is a singular entity that has been given divisions by fear and labels by those that have witnessed it. There is no objective line in which to draw these divisions. No matter where you put them or what you name them these concepts will always bleed into each other. Aspects of one Entity will manifest in another because the labels are invented and Fear is a storm of concepts crashing into each other. That's not a flaw in Smirke's list but its strength. A single entity of that scale is impossible to discuss in meaningful terms, the concept has too much gravity to be properly conceptualised and so an entire spectrum of fear must be divided in order to combat it. Categorisation is a vital part of TMA's cosmology and Smirke was as correct as anyone to put those lines down where he did. The real flaw with Smirke's list is forgetting the spectrum exists and stopping seeing the shades in between the Powers.
Finding a way to categorise this concept is important, but the methodology isn't. Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. The only truth is there is a singular whole. But branding goes a long way both in terms of research and in terms of following. This branding lacks accuracy though, it is in large part arbitrary and by its nature removes the shades and the bleed. TMP takes a different approach, one only hinted at, but one that I think is now fully explainable. 
Part 2: Lost in Translation
Perhaps the most interesting mystery in TMP thus far is DPHW. However, I think based on episodes 1 and 2 of TMP (and now 3), and the Klaus excel sheet from the ARG, we have all we need to explain its utility.
In order to show that conclusion in a satisfactory manner some basic facts need stating, and the order of my thoughts on those facts needs explaining. Firstly, each DPHW is 4 digits. Secondly, each DPHW is read as 4 numbers rather than, say, a pair of 2 numbers. Thirdly, these numbers can change independently of each other. Fourthly, incidents may share CAT#R#'s but have a different DHPW as found in the Klaus sheet (a German document listing OIAR-style incident reports). Finally, the German equivalent of DPHW is TSHU also found in the Klaus sheet. We can use those facts to determine something important. Each letter of this initialism is paired with a digit meaning that DHPW is a group of 4 categories. If that is true we can intuit some of its meaning. It is likely that these numbers are a rating of sorts for each category there. To prove that's the case we would need to know the categories and fortunately we have a starting point to understanding it, German.
If the categories that DPHW describes start with the letters TSHU in German then what needs to be done to find the categories is quite simple. You pair each letter up and then find a suitable word to categorise the supernatural whose first letter starts with the respective letter from the initialism in its language. D/T, P/S, H,H, W/U. After some brainstorming in the Statement Remains PLUS Discord server we had come up with strong candidates for 3 of the 4 pairs.
The first was Deadly/Tötlich, a seemingly solid start that gave this theory some legs. Next was Painful/Schmerzlich which was a distinct enough category for the threat of an incident that proved this was a strong direction to head it. H/H proved more troublesome. To my mind the two strongest contenders here were Hypnotic/Hypnotisch or Helpless/Hilflos. Both sound very reasonable but that in itself is a problem. However the last one was found relatively easily as Weird/Unheimlich. With 3 of the 4 it seemed like this was all but correct at this stage. However, I had been thinking about this backwards and it wasn't until I had a revelation that the pieces really fell into place.
Unheimlich sounded familiar when it was suggested but not in a way I could place. It wasn't until the next day that the aforementioned revelation happened. The ARG had a huge focus on Germany, and Ep 1 of TMP revealed why. FR3-D1 uses German source code which makes German the original language for the OIAR's methodology. Meaning DPHW is the translation, and I now think it's a shoddy one at best. The reason unheimlich sounded so familiar to me is because it's a fairly important part of psychology's history.
DPHW's Weird isn't weird, DPHW's Weird is uncanny. A direct translation could give you weird but a more accurate one, especially in this instance, gives you unheimlich. Unheimlich as in Jentsch's "Zur Psychologie des Unheimlichen", and Freud's "Das Unheimlich". Both of which are essays on the uncanny. It's all about the fear of the unfamiliar, and a central example of this is Olympia from Der Sandmann, a seemingly living doll.
The German word unheimlich is obviously the opposite of heimlich, heimisch, meaning “familiar,” “native,” “belonging to the home”; and we are tempted to conclude that what is “uncanny” is frightening precisely because it is not known and familiar... - Freud, The Uncanny
This is incredibly relevant to a lot of what has been discovered so far. The uncanny as a topic in psychology was kickstarted by two Germans, and a central part of their essays was the German Der Sandmann, and a German, SSandman, was a large presence in the ARG. The strength of this connection all but solidified this theory in my mind. And, briefly, this is also related to Masahiro Mori's uncanny valley hypothesis which I'm sure I won't need to explain.
The obvious way to test this is to take the few W ratings we have been given and compare them to the incident to which they're assigned. The first is from Ep 1, “dolls comma watching”, and was given a 7. This is a good start both in that a 7 feels appropriate as an "uncanny rank" but also that a doll is a focal point on the essays on the subject. Also in Ep 1 is "Reanimation (Partial)", again with a 7. Another very appropriate number. The last in Ep 1 is "Transformation (eyes)" with a 5. Certainly less uncanny than the previous examples so this is still strong. In Ep 2 we get a 5 for Bram Stoker's Dracula, which seems more than fair for a strange man like him, and a 7 for Frankenstein which gives parity for another story of the resurrected dead. Finally we get "Transformation (full)" at a 7, more uncanny than "Transformation (eyes)" which tracks nicely.
With what I felt was such a strong theory for the W/U pairing it helped clarify the ideas of the others. The final digit rating the uncanniness of an incident gives an idea of how these categories work and the breadth of their definitions. Up until this point I was leaning towards Hypnotic/Hypnotisch for our H/H pairing. But giving it more thought, and comparing it to TMA's own groupings, it becomes apparent that Helpless/Hilflos is more appropriate. Hypnotic effects are too aligned with things that would already be very aligned with Uncanny ones, the Stranger's Not!Them alter memories and prey on the fear of something being not quite right, so as a categorisation tool I think it makes less sense because of the greater overlap. Helpless on the other hand works better for things like The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Aspects which I don't think show up in our current other 3 groups. But given the current definition of the strongest category, the fear of the uncanny, I think that helplessness is a more apt label. The fear of helplessness. Which makes H Helplessness/Hilflosigkeit.
With this level of breadth established re-examination of the final two categories is warranted. Painful/Schmerzlich is more likely to be Pain/Schmerz. Not just incidents that are themselves painful but the fear of pain, possibly including the emotional. A comparison to TMA gives this rating a strong affiliation with Entities such as The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Similarly Deadly/Tötlich should now be broadened beyond the fear of things that will kill you, to the fear of death in a broader sense. Which makes D/T Death/Tod instead. To compare again to TMA this is The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Although, while I might be describing these ideas as the fear of ____ I think it's important to know that they do appear to be more conceptual in nature rather than just if something is scary or not.
Comparing each of these assumed categories against current DPHW’s strengthens this argument. “Dolls, watching” scored 1157. It’s a very low fear of death and pain, but they present a medium fear of helplessness and a high fear of the weird. For a fear that’s rooted in paranoia that makes good sense. “Reanimation (Partial)” got a very similar rating, at 5257, but it being a corpse cranks up its fear of death. “Transformation (eyes)” got 2155 which, again, seems to fall in place with what we know. It’s more human than the doll is so it’s less weird but a physical and alarming transformation naturally seems like more of a terminal concern. Combine that with some good ol' internet death threats and it's not nothing, but not much.
As a small aside, while it's not come up in the episodes so far the Klaus sheet shows DPHW's are 0-9. There is a good bit of evidence to suggest 0 might be read as 10 here. 0 most commonly showed up in that sheet for P and the incidents often had the notes "Kriegsvolk". Literally "war people" but more accurately "army/soldier". So pain of 10 for those would track better than P of 0, and it explains why things like the watching doll rate a 1 for D and P instead of a 0, and Dr. Webber's infection is a P of 1 despite entirely removing physical and emotional pain as it goes. Because 1 is the lowest.
For Ep 2 we start with Dracula scoring a 7465, he’s undead and a killer for high death, if he kills you it hurts but it’s not extreme, he’s both hard to physically stop and has mental tricks, and he’s just a weird dude in general who always seems off somehow. Frankenstein at 5337 has aforementioned parity with the reanimation incident as you’d expect but notably less on the helplessness rating as he is just a man. Next is “Transformation (full)” at 1567. This is generally a more severe rating overall than Transformation (eyes) and you’d expect that, but I think it does show something interesting. At no point did Daria want to end her own life. The transformation is far more severe, arguably looks more life threatening, and was clearly more painful but it is explicitly and repeatedly not about dying. I take that as a suggestion that these ratings take into account more than just the mundanely observable nature of the incident. She looks very sick which would make you think of death but it rates low for it because of the emotional, or maybe supernatural, purpose of the incident. She didn’t want to die, the manifestation didn’t try to kill her, and so despite its appearance it’s low on death.
Then finally in Ep 3, we have "Infection (full body)" with a 8175. (Although I'm assuming that's a misfile and it should be Infection (Arboreal)). I think D and H here are more interesting to dig into. P is pretty obvious it's the lowest rating because it seemed actively pain-numbing as it went. W being 5 tracks too is certainly uncanny and has strange geometry but it's not full Distortion levels. So with those two out of the way we can get to the good stuff. D is the most interesting of the two to me. Because while it's pretty clear he died I don't think that's got much to do with it. Rather I think the 8 is more specifically about the way it deals with death, decay, and rot in relation to new life and the growth of other things, plants and insects. Thematically, I think there is a lot more emphasis on death as a broader concept beyond the terminal nature of the infection. For Helplessness there is also an additional element beyond whether or not he was able to do something about the infection, and that's whether he wanted to. As the symptoms worsened his desire to treat them decreased. Initially he was worried about the infection and determined to seek attention when able, then he was happy to let someone else help instead (a hallucination, which makes things more helpless), before finally wanting it to happen. These sorts of elements are things I think we're going to see factor in quite a lot.
In summary; it is my belief that DPHW is a way to rate incidents that the OIAR catalogue based upon the strength of the fear they elicit in the categories of death, pain, helplessness, and weird (uncanny). This system is effectively the TMP equivalent to Smirke's 14 from TMA. Rather than assigning each statement to an Entity each incident is rated for those qualities. These systems are distinct methodologies but each is a way to categorise the supernatural.  
Part 3: On Analogy
That is the juicy bit of this post out of the way so now I have to put a bow on it and touch upon the overarching analogy here. As alluded to by the title and some turns of phrase, it's colour theory. It's a somewhat common analogy for TMA's fears but I think it applies in equal measure to TMP and taken together might provide an insight into how the cosmologies will differ. So, to me, colour theory is not only the perfect lens in which to view the Fears as a whole, it's the perfect lens to view these methodologies.
Smirke is Newton. He broke up a singular spectrum into wide chunks. The Dread Powers themselves are very analogous to a colour wheel. Colours bleed into each other and the boundaries of where one stops and starts is up for debate but red is still red, and blue is blue. That is a useful context for them, it aids discussion. Try talking about red without ever saying red and only referring to a representation of a divided whole. But all too similar to Newton's 7 colours Smirke's 14 lacks nuance, it lacks shade.
On the other hand we have DPHW and this is all shade. DPHW is CMYK. It's not one thing or another with DPHW. You don't have the pitfall of Smirke's methodology where one manifestation is in one arbitrary box. Here, assuming I'm correct, each incident is made up of constituent parts. The OIAR, and presumably its German forebear, are less interested in Smirke's occult ancient gods and more interested in bureaucratic precision. Smirke was doing research while the OIAR are doing administration. As such DPHW takes a wholly different approach. It's now all shades. This has its own problems in that it's harder to discuss in broad terms. It's such a specific methodology that it's lost a lot of what Smirke triumphed with. This is well represented already given that no one has been shown to know what it means at all yet. But if there is a truly different cosmology at play here we might see the axes of DPHW being where alliances fall.
All that leaves us with is a comparison of these two. The only way to really do that is to talk about how Smirke's 14+1 would fit in DPHW's system. This is something I touched upon briefly. Death is strongly related to The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Pain to The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Helplessness to The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Weird to the Stranger, or the Spiral. But that's not all of them and even within those it's already clear that something like The Vast isn't just about helplessness, and we've already seen Daria who would likely be an avatar of the Flesh rank highly in Weird. Which hits upon what I feel is the most interesting aspect of this entire theory. We've seen what happens with Smirke's boundaries on the Entities. We don't know if Entities even exist in this setting, or if they do exist whether they'll be the same ones, or even if they're not the same ones whether they'll function under similar rules. But now we get to see what happens when there aren't those boundaries. We get to see much broader mingling than TMA showcased. It was hinted at there, especially early on before the lore really settled, but now that mingling seems to be the whole point.
And as a brief mention, and to further labour the theme, I don’t think there is enough information to really discuss how CAT#R# works but there are some analogies to work with here. From the Klaus sheet we can infer that CAT# has the following values 1/2/3/12/13/23/123. Or three non-mutually exclusive groups. What those groups are is hard to say right now. There is some soul/body/spirit stuff for the alchemic tria prima that's got some nice connections but doesn't map well now that Ep 3 is out. Either way, this is RGB. An incident can be all red, or red and blue, etc. R#'s values we can infer to be C/BC/B/AB/A/S with maybe an AS in there too. That's a linear scale of similarly unknown value but could represent something like potency/threat. If that is the case then R# is saturation. Some things are more intense than others. We also know from the Klaus sheet that CAT is the German from the "kategorie" meaning "category" the R was from the German “rang” meaning “rank” and so probably has more meaning to it than currently implied.
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dykeknightrises · 7 months
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FALLING
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A/N: Sooo, I never actually wrote anything like this, but this one pretty much wrote itself randomly in my brain and I kinda liked it! So I appreciate any feedback I can get and I really hope you guys enjoy it :)
(Also english is not my first language. I did check it but something may not be quite right )
Next parts: Part 2 - PROMISES Part 3 - US
She smelled like the sun. Whether this is a real thing or not, Y/N didn’t care. Right now, buried under and completely surrounded by her, Y/N would vow on whatever entity really existed that Alexia smelled like the sun.
It wasn’t always the case. Before, Alexia smelled like comfort, maybe even a little bit like being under the covers, a mug of hot chocolate between her hands while the rain poured outside. Now everything changed. Now she smelled like summer, like the water wetting your feet right on the edge on the sand on a hot day spent on the beach.
The in-between of then and now, and even the before that, if Y/N was being honest, was a rollercoaster of joy, happiness, heartbreak, and sadness. Falling for Alexia was far too easy and almost a habit for her, she had been doing that for years now.
Y/N first fell in awe of Alexia when she watched her play her first u-17 Euros, back in 2010, when she was just fifteen. Even when the Young Lionesses didn’t go very far, Y/N managed to convince her parents that they absolutely had to stay for the whole tournament. 
Alexia was still a wide-eyed teenager, shy to give interviews and speak up, but so confident and skilled in the pitch that Y/N could not helped but to feel in absolute awe. It wasn’t even a question that the midfielder would be a great player and it wasn’t even a question that Y/N would start to keep up with her career the best she could, she would even use the poor excuse that the shared their position when her friends bugged her too much about it.
Y/N first feel in admiration with Alexia when she played against her during the 2012 u-19 Euros. Despite being only fifteen, Y/N was called up when someone got injured and even made the line-up for the game against Spain.
Ninety brutal minutes later that resulted in England being eliminated, Alexia made sure to speak and praise every single one of her opponents. That was the first time they ever spoke. Y/N wasn’t even sure if Alexia remembered that, but the praise the older girl gave her and the sheer amount of respect she was given made her admire Alexia as a player on a whole new level.
The “See you in a Champions League game.” that the older girl said goodbye with echoed in her head for years, until the moment she signed with Arsenal as her first professional contract a couple of years later. Y/N really hoped to play against Alexia again.
Y/N first fell in respect with Alexia in Budapest, during the Champions League final in 2019. Despite the overwhelming loss from the start, she watched as Alexia gave her blood on the pitch. One of the most agonizing games Y/N had ever watched, being able to even taste the desperation while surrounded by thousands of culés ins the stands.
She watched the absolute heartbreak the team faced, the broken stares as they watched Lyon lift the Champions League cup again. She watched as the twenty-five years old fourth captain picked her teammates up, reassured them and listened to them. She watched the midfield swallow her own despair and angst to take care of her teammates, as a captain and leader would. Y/N could help but to respect the Catalonian as player, as person. Not everybody can do that.
Y/N first fell in fondness with Alexia when she was the first to make her feel at home in Barcelona. Leaving Arsenal and home behind was terrifying, even if Lucy and Keira were in Barcelona too. It’s a new city, a new culture, a new language, new teammates, and a new sense of self.
Arriving and settling in Barcelona was easy, but fitting in and becoming a part of the team was much harder. Spending so many countless evenings and night trying to learn the language that Y/N began to neglect herself a little bit seemed like a small price to pay to be in the team. It wasn’t until Alexia herself asked to speak to you, realizing that you were unconsciously closing yourself off until you were “ready” that you realized what you were doing. Upon seeing the realization in your eyes and knowing that her mission was complete, the older woman slipped a bar of your favourite chocolate over and left with a squeeze on your shoulder.
After that, it wasn’t long until you were a part of the very chaotic Barcelona family. By the time that the Winter Break arrived, the team had settled in a very nice post-practice routine. On Mondays, the guiris got together, helping each other fit with the country. Tuesdays and Wednesdays the whole team holed up at someone’s house, usually Irene’s, and just bonded, going from watching trashy movies to destroying each other on board games. When there were no games on the weekend, the Fridays were for going out on a very non-wild night, just to eat out and spend more time with each other.
Thursdays were sacred. You and Alexia got together, spending the whole time watching old matches, nitpicking plays and dissecting games from opponents or your favourite players. The night usually ending with you cooking, her cleaning and crashing at the bed after taking Nala for her night walk.
Y/N first fell in love with Alexia after the Winter Break, when Alexia was opening the gift, she brought from England. It was a grand thing, but the older woman’s eyes shone so brightly when the Christmas tree’s light sparked that Y/N was sure her heart skipped a beat.
Being in love with Alexia was easy. Between the team’s bonding and their own, all their weekdays were spent together, and Alexia usually dragged Y/N over for lunch with the rest of the Putellas family, where she fit right in. Her days were filled with Alexia’s presence and her nights were filled with dreams of her.
Y/N never entertained the thought of Alexia loving her back. Not she was an asshole or anything, but Alexia was different. Keeping her feelings to herself, not even telling her best friends came naturally, as she knew they would encourage her to try something, but that is just because they didn’t see Alexia like she did.
Friendships with Spaniards were very confusing at first. They were very touchy and very feely and, at first, it made Y/N a bit uneasy to be able the differ when they were hitting on each other and when they were just being friends. She finally settled in taking everything as a friendship moment if she wasn’t told otherwise and left at that.
On a Thursday, instead of watching a game like their usual, Alexia wanted to go dancing. They got ready at arrived at the Sala Apollo when it was already packed, heading to the bar, and having a couple of drinks before the older woman dragged them both to the dance floor. The closeness and intimacy of dancing with each other came easily for them. Letting the heavy bass of reggaeton guide their moves and being pressed together was almost as natural as cuddling on the couch after a movie.
It wasn’t until Alexia’s hands began to wonder that Y/N though better about the whole night. When the older woman’s lips found a spot on her neck and her hands found their place on her hips after squeezing her ass, Y/N was gone. Turning around and kissing Alexia, they were locked in a much wilder dance at that point. Not staying too long after that was natural, as it was sharing a bed of a whole different manner.
Y/N first fell in heartbreak with Alexia when she called their night a mistake. Waking up the next day, surrounded of filled with the midfielder, Y/N smiled and lost herself on the skin of Alexia’s back being hit by sun. Having coffee turned sour on her mouth after Alexia’s words and feeling has heart break on her chest was hard enough, but she could let the older woman know the damage her words had done, she loved her too much for that.
Leaving Alexia’s house that day was one of the easiest and hardest things Y/N had ever done. It was easy because she desperately needed to leave, she needed to let the tears stream down her cheeks away from the other woman’s praying gaze. It was hard because it closed the door on any possibility of the words being a mistake themselves. After promising Alexia, and lying through her teeth, that everything was okay, Y/N left.
People say grieve has five stages. Y/N was no expert, but she was pretty sure that whoever was supposed to go through them was the person grieving, so she didn’t quite understand Alexia’s sudden avoidance. The captain found new teammates to do all the training exercises together, spoke to her only when necessary and cancelled all Their Thursdays for the past few weeks.
A part of her told herself that maybe Alexia felt guilty, maybe she wanted to take the word Mistake back. That part was very strong, it was pulsating, it gave her hope. That part told her to not give up and just give her part.
Y/N arrived just in time on the locker room to overhear Alexia answering a question about a date. Her latest one. On a Thursday. She couldn’t pay a lot of attention to the midfielder answer without had eyes tearing up, so she tried to block the conversation as much as she could, and it was going pretty damn well until she lied to her teeth once again when someone asked if she didn’t mind that the dates where always on a Thursday.
The called up to represent the Lionesses came as a blessing, giving her a break from the club. It was much easier to be her usual self, joke around with her teammates and going on a full-blown prank war against Georgia when she could pretend Alexia didn’t exist. It was also much easing swallowing down her hopes and downloading Tinder when she was sure Alexia would not pop-up on her screen.
Swiping left on all the women that the app showed her was unconscious. Y/N didn’t even realize she was doing that until Leah caught her with the app opened and started to swipe with her. When the captain asked for the billionth time what was wrong with the last woman, the only answer she had to give was that none of them were her. That prompted her to tell her best friend everything. After convincing Leah to not do something stupid, the captain just told you not to worry and that she would find you the perfect date.
 With the time with the national team up, Y/N flew back to Barcelona, smiling as the she sees the city lighting up against the night sky. She barely has time to settle back before Leah texts her that she found her a great date and saying that they will both fly out for the Champions League match in a couple of weeks.
Between trying to find out more information on Leah’s mysterious friend and the sting that came whenever Alexia promptly ignored her, Y/N days passed slowly. It’s easy to distract herself on the days that are occupied by the team, but Thursdays were the worst. The hurt that came the being subbed out of Alexia’s life was just more prominent on these days and Y/N didn’t quite know what to do about it.
The Champions League finally came and with it, Leah and her friend being in town. The date was going to happen the day before the match and Y/N wasn’t sure whether the anxious feeling she had were for the match or for the date.
Getting ready was almost automatic. A nice short black dress paired up with a light makeup as they would go to dinner at a nice restaurant that Y/N absolutely loved. Waiting for the time to go out, she turned the TV on started watching and old match, absently minded remembering that it was a Thursday. Not that any of that mattered anymore.
The doorbell rang just as Ronaldinho scored a goal, making her tear her eyes away from the game. Y/N walk to the door in confusion, not expecting anyone today. The team was doing their own Thursday thing and Leah was out with Lucy and Keira, leaving literally no one to be at her doorstep at almost eight.
Hazel eyes greeted her upon opening the door. Alexia stood in front of her, in her comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, the beanie tucked in her head, cheeks rosy from the wind. Her gaze, holding hope and a thousand secrets, wandered through you figure, before settling back in your own eyes.
“I was hoping we could have our usual Thursday? I have a lot that I need to say to you.”
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thenightling · 2 years
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“The Oldest Game”
   I was surprised to find someone in my Sandman Facebook group actually complaining about “The Oldest Game” in The Sandman Netflix series (episode 4).  They seemed disappointed that it wasn’t a “Real” battle but instead it was “like watching them play Dungeons and Dragons.”  Meanwhile the majority of us Sandman fans loved the scene.  When I first read that scene that was when I knew I was reading something truly different from the usual DC content.  I was reading something truly special.          To the person complaining about it, I am afraid The Sandman might not be to your taste.  There is very little physical combat and scenes like The Oldest Game / “I am Hope” are what hooked a lot of us.
       The Oldest Game is based on something TV Tropes (and The Sword in the Stone) calls a “Wizard’s Duel” or a Wizard Duel.  The concept turns up a lot in folklore and mythology.  It’s where two magical entities (sometimes sorcerers, sometimes Gods, sometimes shapeshifters) have a duel of wits and creativity using their powers and imagination.   There’s a similar trope called the Transformation chase and there is an overlap but the transformation chase usually requires there being a chase.  You see a sort of single-person transformation chase in Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among thieves.  
     In The Sandman this battle was for Morpheus’s helm.  If he won he got his helm back.  If Morpheus lost he would have been enslaved by Choronzon The Demon.
     Here’s how the game usually works. The challenged usually gets to make the first move. They pick a form or a spell and it is usually non-lethal.  You’re supposed to start small and build up to bigger / more imposing things.  The battle follows TBL (Turn based Logic) like in a tabletop or online text based role playing game. So the Dungeons and Dragons comparison isn’t actually wrong so much as it’s not quite the right role playing game.  (Yes, I AM a nerd. Thank you for noticing.)  
     After the first move is made the opponent may take the hit and then make an offensive move (attack) in return or instead of taking the hit, they can make a defensive counter move to avoid taking the hit but in doing so the person loses the opportunity to make a offensive move.  If you’re clever you can sometimes get away with a single move that does both but that is tricky.   So the choice is usually take damage and attack or protect from damage and not attack until the next turn.  The game is usually about “one upping” the opponent so you go for something slightly bigger and better than what they used.  
     In some versions of the game you are allowed to defend yourself and then make an attack move during the same turn so you don’t have to make the choice of defense or attack. In both variations, if you’re clever enough you can come up with a combo of attack and defense in one move but that’s rare.  
      Usually it’s like this.  If your opponent throws a magical dart, you can create a shield or shoot a similar projectile but in some variations you can do both if you can pull it off in a single concept (like creating an armored knight holding a sword and shield). If the rival turned into a rat, you can turn into a cat.  Hopefully you get the idea.  You can’t go too big too fast or the creativity and strategy the game is known for is lost.  It’s a game of wits and creativity after all, not really brute force.   
     Recently I have seen some people try to argue that during the Lucifer and Morpheus version of the duel that Despair can kill Hope and that Lucifer could have won if she was willing to say she is Despair.  No, that may have just caused an unhappy stalemate because pretty much everything that can destroy Hope can also be destroyed by Hope.  Hope kills Despair as surely as Despair kills Hope.  They are two sides of the same coin after all.  It would just be an infinite loop at that point.  However there is also the argument that Hope springs eternal while Despair is always only temporary, depending on your perspective.  
      I have provided three pop culture examples of The Wizard’s Duel.   The first is the version in Netflix’s The Sandman between Lucifer and Morpheus.
The second is from Disney’s Sword in the Stone between Mim and Merlin.  
The third is from the 1963 film The Raven starring Vincent Price and Boris Karloff.  I have a bias in favor of this one since I love this movie. It was written by the late Richard Matheson, directed by Roger Corman, and starred Vincent Price. It came out the same year as Disney’s The Sword in the Stone.    
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZOwaeAEIw0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxqhjWcS8zQ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q2gBhMdJ23Q
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j4gm · 7 months
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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 8: JERRY
The last of four posts for today.
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This episode has a very dark setting. This is the universe where The Lich wished for the extinction of all life. There is nothing here. This establishing shot features the Squirrel's apple cart, from a few episodes ago, but he is long dead and it is long abandoned.
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We are introduced to a new cosmic entity, Orbo, who is Scarab's boss but is not to be mistaken for Prismo's boss, whose identity remains a mystery.
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Simon name drops a whole bunch of magical items from the original Adventure Time series; the Armour of Zeldron from Blood Under the Skin, the Wand of Dispersement from Sons of Mars, the Porcelain Lamb from Beyond This Earthly Realm, and the magic beans from The Pods.
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This episode suggests that the nature of Simon and Betty's relationship was initially quite unhealthy. He was one of her lecturers, and she had an infatuation with him from first sight.
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This illustration features the ancient wizards who sealed Coconteppi beneath Wizard City in the Distant Lands episode of the same name.
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Simon's expedition to find the Enchiridion was first mentioned in the newspaper clipping in I Remember You, and was mentioned again in Temple of Mars.
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BMO apparently survived The Lich's wish because he isn't technically alive. I wonder where Neptr and the other MOs are. Cannibalised for batteries, perhaps. Also, that BRB note is very sad and is identical to the one Finn wrote in Blenanas.
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There are various familiar items in the thawed out remains of the Ice Kingdom; ninja paraphernalia from The Chamber of Frozen Blades, Ice King's diary from The Empress Eyes, and of course the tape collection from Holly Jolly Secrets.
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Here's a deep cut: That machine in the background to the right of Simon is the machine that held the lightning power that Finn went to steal in What is Life, so that he could power up Neptr. The Demonic Wishing Eye is also in this shot.
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For a single frame, Ice King and Gunter can be seen reduced to skeletons. Presumably this was the exact moment that the Lich's wish took effect. Everyone died instantly, in less than a frame.
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When I watched this episode for the first time I was confused about where Fionna got the working crown. But you can just about see it inside the drum in this shot, where Ice King mentioned he had put it in his tape.
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This is the exact moment the photograph was taken for the newspaper clipping seen in I Remember You.
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We first heard the story about how Simon met Betty after they tried to check out the same library book in Broke His Crown. It's cool to see it playing out for real.
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Simon throws a pebble at the window and accidentally hits Babette in the face, exactly like Finn and Jake did to Kim Kil Whan in the episode Ocarina.
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This is the second time Simon caused Betty to miss this research trip to Australia. She says in Temple of Mars that she never got the opportunity to go, and resolves that her life might not have been so messed up if she'd followed her own dreams instead of following Simon's.
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The song in this scene, the motif of which has been heard throughout the series, is by Half Shy, who also wrote "Monster" for Obsidian.
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BMO is buried with a paper flower because there are no real ones left alive. His death seemed pointlessly cruel.
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THE LICH! He is in his half-disguised Billy form, confirming that this is his wish-altered reality. Like in his other appearances, the first line he speaks is a single word command. This time, the command is "Cease." But with nothing left to do he has become depressed, and he doesn't bother killing our protagonists.
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And finally, we are left on this cliffhanger. Fionna and Cake have returned to their world. Scarab has convinced the boss that Simon must be destroyed. And GOLBetty is here to claim them both while the Lich watches on.
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This episode's dream features a pair of Lich skulls either side an effigy of GOLB.
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hypewinter · 8 days
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Bit of a long post
Danny has a core. He's the only ghost with a core. Or rather, he just has the power to absorb forms of energy that would kill anyone else and condense it inside himself
Which is why he survived the portal (3 times), Vortex (basically a god) zapping him, and blasted by every single ghost with a grudge in Phantom Planet (which includes Pariah Dark, thank you animation errors)
Incidentally, since the core is the sole reason Phantom exists, Dan and Dani (and the dead clones) need cores of their own due to coming from Danny, but don't come with any built in. Dani needs one a lot more since Dan's core is the Plasmius half of him
Ok what if these core substitutes were lantern cores? I would say Dani runs into Green Lantern (Let's say Kyle Rayner because why not) and gets this boost of stability from his battery. In the process this drains the battery and freaks Green Lantern out so it's off to Oa with both of them. There, Dani feels this pull from the main core. A strong urge that she needs to touch it. And before anyone can react, she's already absorbing the core. Becoming one with it and Ion in the process. This stabilizes Dani and gives her a major power boost as well. She has to stay on Oa for a time before she figures out how to impart some of her power back into the core but after that, she's a walking talking battery who just so happens to prefer Earth (As if the Green Lanterns of Earth weren't overpowered enough).
When Dani finally makes it back to Earth the first thing she does is excitedly explain to the others how she has a core now and is also a super powerful semi deity or something. Pretty cool right? Cue Danny and Dan slow blinking, "You became a what now?" Danny is kinda huffy because "I didn't become a super powerful semi deity when I got a core. All I got were death threats and responsibilities."
Meanwhile Dan gets excited because while he's not in dire straits without a core like Dani was, he technically needs one too. No he's not going out to look for a lantern corps just to become more powerful. That's ridiculous. You're just jealous Danny. Anyway off he goes and a short time later, he finds Indigo Tribe. Apparently their emotion is Compassion (gross). But they're all about rehabilitation which he supposes is what he's been doing after being released plus these guys are kinda fun to be around. Especially the not quite all the way rehabilitated ones. So one core absorption and merge with Proselyte later and Dan is now the entity of Indigo.
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jellys-compendium · 2 months
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Lovebug
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Rating: Explicit (18+ Only, Minors DNI)
Pairing: Sinister!Vash x f!Reader Word Count: 7.9K Summary: You've been running for a long time, miraculously evading the destructive storm on your heels. But one fateful night you find yourself trapped and unable to escape the humanoid typhoon any longer. He'll make you regret running from him. Cw: blood, gun violence, side character death, noncon to dubcon, predator/prey dynamics, smut, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, semi-public sex, rough sex, p in v sex, gunplay, choking, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), cumming inside, dacryphilia, yandere, obsessive/possessive behaviour, manipulation, mind breaking, pet names, degradation & praise.
A/n: This is a dark fic. Read the content warnings before proceeding. If this sort of writing isn't your thing, please don't read! I will have a softer fic for Vash coming in the near future. Also, just a quick note that for narrative purposes , I decided to interpret Sinister!Vash as Vash turning evil (not as a separate entity).
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The sharp scent of rust lingers in your nose. It couples with the muted dusty air and further serves to dry out your parched throat. Each time you swallow in an attempt to alleviate your thirst, it feels like sandpaper scrapes along your esophagus. Money be damned, you would trade every last double dollar you own for a glass of water right now.
Unfortunately for you, not a single one of the sheriff’s men had come to check up on your sorry state since you’d been caught, cuffed, and thrown into this dingy cell hours ago. They’d locked you in here and thrown away the key as it were. Guess you shouldn’t be surprised, given the bounty on your head.
Heaving a sigh, you lean back against the cold concrete wall of your prison, your movement causing the tattered and smelly cot supporting you to creak and groan. With little else to do, your mind wanders to the earlier events of the day.
How did you get yourself into this mess? 
You’d been so painstakingly careful to keep your head down and profile low in every town you had passed by for the last year. Not a single soul, let alone law enforcement, had ever suspected that you were the former partner of the legendary humanoid typhoon. So how is it that the sheriff of this backwater little town had you figured out the moment you’d set foot in his jurisdiction?
With a metaphorical fine toothed comb, your mind analyzes each and every interaction you’ve had since the morning, searching for clues on how you’d been discovered—but nothing clicks into place. You hadn’t spoken a whisper about your true identity, or about Vash, to anybody since you’d quit and run from his company of outlaws.
On top of that you were careful to cover your tracks, doing everything in your power to erase all that you were before disappearing into the night in a hail mary attempt at a better life—one that wasn’t tainted with lies and blood. 
A gnawing sorrow aches in your chest at the thought of your former lover, and you can’t help but reach up and rub over that hollow space under your breastbone. Deep down you still love Vash more than anyone else but…you will have no part in his cruelty.
You don’t know when it started, but Vash had changed into a person you no longer recognize. Gone was the kind gunman clad in red with a broken smile, and in his place emerged another person entirely. He was vicious, manipulative, and cruel. Taking lives without regard in order to get what he wanted. Within the span of a few months, Vash had truly transformed into the monster that the people of this planet fear him to be—and that had completely and irrevocably broken your heart.
For months you had feared that Vash would pick up on your trail and track you down in retaliation for your abandoning of his little group. But as the weeks stretched on, the suns rising and falling with each passing day, your nerves settled and you surmised that Vash must have had better things to do rather than chase you down.
‘He must have found someone else to warm his bed by now.’
The intrusive thought clings to your mind incessantly, and you desperately attempt to force it away with a shake of your head. No. You’d left that life behind, you’ve left him behind for a reason . 
Vash would have devoured you—consumed you whole and then spit out your bones if you hadn’t left when you did. The way Vash makes you feel is beyond anything you had ever experienced before. He’s intoxicating, addicting, seductive—a devil that beguiles you with sweet whispers in one ear, while holding the barrel of a gun against the other. 
For a time, you had lost yourself in his coils—exchanging your humanity for a burning desire that had scorched your body and soul. But before the humanoid typhoon could corrupt you completely, you escaped.
And…you ran.
And ran,
And ran.
Until that murderous, crimson eyed shadow that followed each of your footsteps surrendered to the sunshine above, and disappeared amidst the blistering sands of No Man’s Land. You were finally free, and although there is a dark and secret part of you that still longs for Vash, you know that you did the right thing.
Abruptly, a distant rumble captures your ear. Perking up, your gaze is led from the dark shadows in the corner of your cell towards the distant door leading out of the jailhouse’s cell room. Your body stills as the roaring commotion gets louder, your muscles sit taut as you listen and try to decipher the noises coming from beyond the bars.
You hear footsteps, shouts and— gunfire .
Gunfire, then screams.
Adrenaline kicks into high gear and you immediately get up from the stained cot, racing towards the door of your cell. Your cuffed hands grasp the cold bars of your prison as more blood curdling screams fill the air. Was it a robbery? Bandits? Or could it really be?
The monstrous possibility of what awaits just beyond that door sends you into a panic. Panting frantically, you use your entire body weight to rattle the bars in a foolhardy attempt to wiggle the cell door free. But of course, the iron door does not budge.
‘No.’ You ram your shoulder against the door.
‘No!’
Your arm screams out in pain as you use your entire body weight this time.
‘This can’t be happening! It can’t be him!’
“Sheriff!! Sheriff!!” You shout desperately. “Let me out! Let me out!”
The terrible thundering of gunshots and panicked commotion intensifies. Pounding footsteps race down the hallway and shake the floorboards just beyond the prison cell door. You shudder when you hear the terrified screams from the men warbling through the wood and concrete, sharp and horrifying but then—silence.
Oh god. They’re all…
Blood pulses in your ears, making you feel faint as the song of more bullets sings through the air. Even from your iron cage, you can tell the shots are precise—every single one effectively ending the lives of the Sheriff's men one by one. Within mere moments, the once lively jailhouse had become as silent as a graveyard. The only sounds you hear now are a single pair of creaking footsteps and…a song.
“Total slaughter~
Total slaughter
I won’t leave a single man alive…”
Oh god—it is him . 
Releasing the bars of your cell door, you frantically begin to look around the dim lit space. A bucket and the cot are all you have to work with. Shit.
The footsteps come closer.
“...La dee da dee die
Genocide~
La dee da dee dud
An ocean of blood…”
You detect a sound of heavy shuffling just outside and you look on, terrified , as the door leading to the jail’s cells creaks open. You freeze, legs nearly giving out from fear, but…it isn’t Vash.
Instead, into the room crawls a man—a man that you recognize as the Sheriff's deputy. He’s breathing hard, petrified little whimpers escaping his lips with each exhale. 
Trapped as you are you can do nothing but watch, wide eyed and horrified, as the man crawls into the room on all fours. His brown vest, white shirt, and slacks are covered with blood. More of it drips from his disheveled hair, leaving a gruesome trail of dark red as he shakingly makes his way across the floorboards and towards your cell. 
The deputy’s face is pale white and pouring sweat as he looks up at you…except he isn’t looking up at you. It almost looks like he’s looking through you.
“M–m–monster…h–he’s a monster.” The man whimpers, his red teeth chattering like tin cans in the wind. Trembling, the deputy reaches towards your cell door with a bloodied hand and his eyes finally lock with yours.
“H—help me.”
The sight of this man near death immobilizes you with terror, but as the man’s fingers wrap around one of the bars of your cell, the urgency in your gut magnifies, overwhelming the piercing fear inside of you. You have to try and save him. You have to.
Moving quickly, you squat down, reaching for the deputy’s hand, you grasp it tightly with yours.
“Give me the keys. Help me open the door so I can get us out of here.”
But the man doesn’t move. Instead he mutters and weeps, his voice strained and high with each incoherent syllable he babbles.
Frustrated and frantic, you bang your hand against the bars, hoping that the jolt will startle the deputy to his senses. 
“Hey! Are you listening?! Give me the keys or he’s going to—”
A piercing gunshot rings through the air and you leap up with a shout as the air rushes out of the deputy’s lungs. The deputy’s eyes turn dull, and you cry out in horror as his body jerks and then falls still at your feet.
He’s…he’s…
“Let’s begin…
The killing time” 
It takes all the courage you have left to lift your gaze and follow the blood stains left by the deputy. Eventually, your eyes land on a black pair of leather boots. Moving upwards, your sight lingers along the familiar dark blue coat tails—their ripped and tattered ends doused with fresh blood. Your attention moves up that infamous coat and finally lands on the face of the humanoid typhoon himself.
Vash the Stampede.
The outlaw’s crimson eyes stare directly into your own, shackling you in place more effectively than the metal cuffs around your wrists ever could. His eyes are intense as they focus on you, possessive and all consuming. It was only a matter of time before he found you, and you were an idiot to think that you could evade him forever.
As if agreeing with that very thought, a sly grin spreads across Vash’s handsome face. Like a ravenous wildcat who had finally caught his prey, the humanoid typhoon exhales a breath of relief and holsters his gun. 
“There you are.”
Vash approaches your cell and all you can do is silently watch as he bends down and yanks the ring of keys off of the deputy’s belt. Vash is methodical as always. Moving like a serpent in water, he never wastes a single movement. Each and every action of his is calculated and designed to lead him towards his ultimate goal.
And tonight, his goal is you.
Vash never takes his eyes off you as he slips the key into its slot with a poignant click. Then with a flick of his wrist the door unlocks, and Vash swings it wide open.
Your body’s response is immediate. Trembling, you retreat blindingly backwards until your body hits the concrete wall of your cell. Vash tsks, following your movements with inhumanly long strides of his own. It only takes a second for him to catch up with you—his body towering over yours once he closes that distance you were so desperate to create.
You jolt as Vash’s hands reach up and grasp your own, leather clad fingers lacing around your trembling digits as he lifts your cuffed wrists to his face. He leans down, and brushes his lips along the cold flesh of your palm, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. 
“Oh my poor little lovebug.” Vash sensually coos, his deceivingly soft and gentle voice echoing along the iron bars. “What have they done to you?”
Gods, you should be repulsed and terrified, but instead of turning your blood to ice, Vash’s touch causes your entire body to instantly be consumed by a sweet and agonizing flame. The cinders that linger in your heart reignite and burn tenfold at the touch of the man that you love so dearly.
“Lovebug.” 
Like a siren, Vash’s hypnotizing whisper lulls away your fear—enchanting you.
“So frightened. You’re shaking like a newborn kitten. Come here, let me hold you.”
As if the choice were yours, Vash pulls your body flush against his. You gasp as the familiar sensation of his strong arms wraps around you and overpowers your resolve. His warm scent, the feeling of his lips as he so tenderly kisses your cheek, the weight of his hands as they glide up and down your back in a soothing motion. All of it brings tears of turmoil to your eyes.
No…this can’t happen again.
“I’m sorry, lovebug. If I had known they would treat you like this I would have come for you sooner.”
Come for you? As in, Vash knew where you’d been this entire time?
Your mind reels at the realization. You had never escaped Vash’s shadow. Instead it had grown so large and widespread that you’d failed to notice it all around you. 
The people who let you on your way and turned a blind eye to your identity, those kind souls who had given you food to eat and a bed to sleep in when you were weary, even the men of this town who had arrested you as an accomplice of the humanoid typhoon. Every single one of them had been an instrument of Vash’s own design.
Vash places a final kiss upon your cheek. Pulling back, he smiles at your dumbfounded expression.
“Let’s get you out of these cuffs.”
Vash lets your hands fall, his fingers flicking through the keyring until he finds the one he is looking for. How Vash knows exactly which key to use, you are not sure, but it’s no surprise when he selects one and slips it into the cuff’s lock. He frees you immediately with a twist of his hand.
The metal cuffs fall to the floor with a resounding thud and your breath leaves you in a hiss as the dry hair hits your raw skin. But before you can soothe your own pain, Vash takes your wrists in his grasp, thumbs gently gliding over the reddened skin as he pulls you closer once more.
Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you feel Vash lean in, the heat of his body encompassing as his lips brush against yours.
“Have you learned your lesson? You won’t run away from me again, right lovebug?”
Vash’s sinister words send a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps erupt all across your flesh as the skin on your fingertips tingles. This man has orchestrated every part of your life for the past year without you even knowing about it. What are the limits to his reach? His cruelty? His obsession? How far will he go to claim you as his own?
In your silence Vash releases a heavy sigh, then places a soft kiss on your lips.
“I asked you a question.”
The words catch in your dry and tightening throat. You swallow, lips trembling as you try your best to speak.
“Vash, I—”
Before you can finish, pounding footsteps vibrate through the jailhouse, and it’s not long before four men appear in the doorway with guns drawn and their expressions terrified at the massacre laying at their feet.
The moment the men lay their eyes on Vash, the four of them let out a roar of fury.
“The humanoid typhoon!”
“You bastard!” 
“Kill him!”
But before the men manage to aim their pistols, four gunshots whistle through the air in rapid succession. You didn’t even realize that Vash had unholstered his own gun before the four men dropped lifeless on the floor.
A fresh wave of despair courses through you and your head spins as the humanoid typhoon—the diablo —reholsters his gun and returns his attention to you. His face is calm and unbothered, as if he hadn’t just murdered an entire building full of people.
“Now, where were we?”
Panic stabs through your chest, kick starting your fight or flight. You have to get away, you have to escape him. Being a murderer, an outlaw on the run, isn’t who you are anymore. You’d promised yourself that you would leave that life behind, no matter how much you wanted the man who’d seduced you into that life in the first place.
Clenching your fists to try and subvert your shaking, you start to move your body to the right, readying yourself to pounce around Vash and make a break for the door. But Vash’s scarlet gaze sees through your every move long before you even conceptualize it. He sighs, rolling his eyes before slamming his palm on the concrete by your head, trapping you in his reach.
Your body jolts at the vibrations of the impact. Then Vash leans in, hot breath on your lips as he whispers a dark promise.
“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”
No sooner had Vash uttered those foreboding words, more footsteps pound through the halls of the jailhouse. An irritated growl rumbles in Vash’s throat as he unholsters his gun once more and aims it at the door, hissing between his teeth.
“Cockroaches.”
Two more men emerge from the doorway and time slows as you watch Vash’s finger glide seamlessly towards the trigger.
Against all reasonable sense, your body moves. Lightening fast, you launch yourself at Vash, grasping his wrist in your hands and pushing his arm upwards with all of your might. Your sudden movement takes the humanoid typhoon off guard, and the two bullets he had intended to place right between the men’s eyes whistle and lodge into the wooden roof above.
“RUN!”
Using your body to knock Vash off balance, you bolt for the cell door, leaping over the bodies on the floor as the two men in front of you turn tail and run as fast as their legs can carry them. 
Your lungs burn as you follow them, racing out of the jail as if it were about to be engulfed in a raging inferno. Following closely behind the men in front of you, the three of you eventually manage to scramble out of the jailhouse. The cool night air hits your face and you pause. The street is dark and empty, and the two men who had just run out before you were racing towards the light of the neighboring town. 
You desperately want to follow them, to find sanctuary in the safe bustle of a populated town square. But Vash has his sights set on you, and you know you’ll only serve to put more innocent lives at risk if you look for help now.
The sudden sound of eerie humming echoes through the jailhouse behind you. You turn, body trembling and eyes wide as you search the darkness. Then almost as soon as that strange tune had started, it stops. 
A cold shiver of fear tingles down your spine at the foreboding silence. Then out of the darkness you hear Vash shout menacingly, his voice morphing into an inhuman two-toned scream that you’d never heard before. 
It curdles your blood.
“MAYFLY!”
You bolt, stray tears blinding your vision as you scramble like mad down the dirt dusted path in the opposite direction of town. Your breath rushes in and out of you at record speed as you rush towards the abandoned buildings lining the town’s outskirts. If you could just make it there and hide yourself in the shadows of broken and discarded concrete, you might stand a chance. 
But of course, much like a panicked animal with no sense of direction, your path twists and turns as you mindlessly try to find a good place to hide—only to wind up trapping yourself in a dead end. An empty alleyway illuminated solely by moonlight.
“No, no, no!”
You prepare to turn on your heel to retrace your steps but the moment you spin to face the other direction, your body becomes paralyzed with shock. Vash is standing right behind you . Somehow he had silently kept up with you, hounding your steps like a hungry dog from the depths of hell.
Vash smiles.
“Found you.” 
The unearthly flash of his red eyes shines in the darkness before a rush of wind gusts through the night. It’s then that you notice a single distorted, black feathered wing adorning Vash’s back. It stretches magnificently in the moonlight and you notice a gleaming, razor sharp talon adorning the juncture at the top of those cascading feathers. Your jaw drops. You had never seen Vash with wings before.
Vash takes a single step forward and stops when he sees you tremble. He watches you closely, both of you bodies still. And in that quiet moment, your soul is drawn into those deep crimson pools.
Mayfly…mayfly… lovebug …
Inexplicably, the tension eases from your body, limbs becoming still as if every part of you were surrendering to its fate. A devilishly handsome grin spreads across Vash’s lips as he watches your defiant spark finally simmer into nothing but harmless embers.
“Awww, trapped yourself again, little lovebug?” Vash chuckles darkly, his tone mocking. “Poor, sweet thing. You always seem to wind up in a cage.”
Your jaw clenches. How could Vash say that, when he was the one who drove you here in the first place? When he is the very cage itself?
“Y–you murdered those innocent people.”
Vash exhales a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as the large black feathers on his wing bristle with irritation.
“Innocent? I’d hardly call them that.” The typhoon's playful expression falls and then darkens, and his voice shifts into a tone of dead seriousness.  
“They laid their hands on you.”
Before you can even blink, Vash is before you—a great shadow that looms and blocks out all light except that of the eerie glow of his gaze. Vash’s hands wrap around your wrists, squeezing the raw skin and making you gasp with pain. 
“They shackled you and locked you up in that cold, dark place. They hurt you, lovebug.”
Your molars sink into the inside of your cheek as you try to combat your cowardice with pain. You glare at the man before you, and spit out your next words like venom.
“Only because you had orchestrated it. You’re the mastermind here, not them.”
The sinister grin that pulls at the corner’s of Vash’s mouth confirms everything you had suspected. He truly is…a monster.
With a swift movement, Vash yanks on your wrists and jerks your body closer to his. You gasp, straining against him in vain. The heat that radiates off of Vash’s body slams into your skin as his single black wing swoops down to envelop you further. He’s warm—so warm—an ambrosia unlike any other.
“Clever girl.” Vash whispers before planting a chaste little kiss on the tip of your nose.
You shudder.
“Are—are you going to hurt me?”
Your question isn’t meant to elicit any sympathy, but Vash’s red eyes soften once he hears them and his grip around your wrists loosen. As if apologizing with his hands, Vash’s fingers circle and soothe your abused flesh.
“Oh lovebug, never. I absolutely adore you. I’d never let any harm come to you.” 
Vash brings your wrists to his lips, pressing hot kisses against your cold skin. The flames in your belly coil, reigniting as they are fueled by the rhythm of your heart. Vash is weaving his spell again, coaxing you back into that syrupy sweet web of deceit and rapture. 
And…you’re falling for it. Falling for him all over again.
“But,” Vash murmurs. His hot tongue slipping out of his mouth to swipe along your bruised skin. 
“You should be punished for trying to run from me.”
Air gusts out of your lungs as Vash pushes your body backwards. He manhandles you with ease before pinning your form against the frigid wall behind you. The claw at the juncture of where his wing bends pierces into the concrete with a terrible scraping sound and pins your wrists to the wall above your head, rendering you completely helpless.
Then, Vash’s nimble fingers undo the button of your slacks.
Jaw dropping, you cry out with rage, cursing Vash and kicking your feet against his legs as you try to fight back. But it’s as if you are battling against a tornado. Nothing you do phases him, and in one single, practiced movement, Vash rids you of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your shirt and underwear.
“Vash!” You screech, nailing him with another swift kick to the shin. “How could y–”
Words are stolen from your lips and your body completely freezes when you suddenly feel the glide of cold metal between your legs. You look down, and your heart nearly stops when you realize Vash has placed the barrel of his gun flush against your panty covered pussy.
The sound of Vash’s dark laughter turns your blood to ice. He leans forwards and presses his burning lips against the corner of your mouth.
“Ever played Russian roulette?” He whispers.
Eyes wide with panic, you turn your head to look at Vash—silently pleading for him to reconsider, to show you mercy and let you go. But Vash’s expression is calm and resolute.
“How about I make you a deal.” He muses. You watch, tense and breathless, as Vash’s thumb caresses the hammer of his .45 long colt. 
“If you can come before I get to the last bullet in the cylinder, we’ll consider your punishment served, alright?”
No. No, no, no, no.
“Vash, please—”
Brushing aside your protest, Vash presses the gun harder against your cunt, grinding the top of the cold barrel between your folds. You gasp sharply, arching against the icy friction as Vash pushes the gun further between your clenched thighs.
The rear sight bumps against your clit and you whimper as a rush of heat gushes between your legs. Vash grins at your reaction, thrusting the gun harder against your tender flesh. 
“That’s it, lovebug” Vash coos. “Feels so good doesn’t it?”
The hammer of the gun clicks, and you have to stifle a pathetic squeal before it can escape. Vash’s smile widens, eyes alight with excitement—then he pulls the trigger.
Blank.
Your body sags.
“One.” Vash purrs.
You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus singularly on your goal. You have to come before Vash gets to that last bullet. You have to.
Hot puffs of air leave you open mouth in desperate whines as you start to piston your hips against the barrel of Vash’s gun, rubbing your swelling clit and folds against the harsh metal at his command.
A pleased hum rumbles in Vash’s chest as the obsidian feathers above you shudder with delight.
“Yes,” Vash breathes, leaning down to sample your flesh. His sharp canines tease along the column of your throat, and the feeling of his hot breath fanning across your skin makes you shiver and mewl. Your pussy twitches, nipples hardening as you start to melt in his hands.
“Good girl.”
The cylinder of the gun turns and you groan, grinding your pussy harder along that metal length. All logical thought disappears as the intoxicating pleasure of Vash’s game overpowers your mind. Like a worm on a hook, Vash has you in his grasp—he always has.
Another click of the trigger, another blank.
“Two.”
Vash’s mouth latches onto your throat now, his tongue and teeth caressing and nipping your skin as his free hand rises up to grope your neglected breast, pinching and teasing at your puckered nipple with greedy fingers.
Lewd moans fall from your lips as jolts of pleasure ricochet through your body. A desperate plea of Vash’s name fills the air as you slick drips from your fluttering cunt, lubing up the gun between your folds.
“Mmmm,” Vash moans, pink tongue languidly licking at his bottom lip. His eyes are glued to the spectacle before him. 
“That’s it, rub that pussy, baby. You’re so fucking sexy.”
Vash’s gun clicks once more. Thankfully, it’s another blank.
“Three.”
Only three more changes remain, and one of them is deadly. Knowing this, your movements become more desperate, grinding yourself against Vash’s gun with fervor as sweat begins to pour down your brow and back. Your body trembles, and you try not to think about how you must look, humping Vash’s gun like a bitch in heat.
Oh god.  
You’re scared but you’re positively throbbing for Vash’s touch. You haven’t been touched once since you’d escaped his clutches, and despite everything that has happened and the new life you had chosen, you are still so foolishly in love with him.
The people of this land may have been the ones you have chosen to side with, but Vash is the only one in your dreams. Vash is the only one who can make you feel like this. He haunts you and corrupts you. Fucks you and devours you.
Vash is the diablo you just can’t shake.
Releasing your throat with a hungry growl, Vash’s mouth travels up to passionately kiss your lips. You moan wantonly, accepting his tongue with unrestrained lust as you attempt to arch your body closer to his. Vash’s tongue swirls in tandem with yours, groaning into your mouth as he readies another shot. You whimper against him, fingernails digging into his feathers.
“Vash…”
Click
Blank.
“Four.” Vash pants, his tongue plunging into your mouth once more, matching in time with the thrusts of his gun. Paradoxically fucking you brutally and sweetly at the same time.
Vash angles his gun upwards, teasing the metal shaft against your entrance. And gods, you know you should be terrified—fighting him tooth and nail for not only your dignity but your life. But as the now warmed and lubed metal of his gun plays with your entrance, all you can do is arch and moan like a whore.
An alluringly dark chuckle rings in your ears as Vash’s grip on your breast tightens. You gasp as he pinches your nipple and rolls it harshly between his fingers.
“Wishing it was my cock, lovebug?”
You shake your head back and forth, and Vash’s grin widens.
“Don’t lie, of course you are. You’ve always been such a dirty little slut for me.”
Vash pinches your nipple harder—a punishment for your little lie—and you cry out as the cylinder makes another round. This time, Vash doesn’t wait, he immediately pulls the trigger, eliciting a yelp of fear from the depths of your lungs. 
Sure enough, it’s another blank.
“Five.” Vash chuckles. He releases your breast, and you watch as his hand travels down to the front of his pants, palming the thick hot bulge that sits just underneath his coat.
“Oh, one more baby. You’ve been sooo lucky so far. Think you’re gonna cum before this gun blows your pussy sky high?” 
Your words tangle in your throat, so you elect to nod rapidly instead. Your teeth sink into your lip as you furiously rub your cunt along the length of the gun, purposefully catching your clit on the metal grooves at the base with each thrust.
Fuck. Fuuuuck.
Almost there. Almost there!
The cylinder turns one final time as Vash’s finger glides sensually along the trigger. He kisses you again, his tongue diving deep into your mouth, drinking in everything you have to give him. Vash swallows your scream, and then pulls the trigger.
Nothing.
Both your hips and the gun still, and Vash laughs gleefully at your confused and near delirious expression. He grins like a cat who had just eaten the canary, and then presses a tender little kiss to your lips.
“Six.”
Vash pulls the gun out from between your legs, the barrel glistening in the moonlight with your slick as he brings it up to your line of sight.
“Hmm, soaked it right through your panties didn’t you? What a little slut.”
Vash's long pink tongue snakes out from between his lips, and you watch—mesmerized and aroused to high heaven— as he licks the barrel of the gun clean. Vash’s eyes never leave you once as he purrs with satisfaction at your taste. 
When he’s finished, Vash holsters his gun then wraps that now free hand around your throat while the other lands heavily on your hip.
Your breath stalls as the fingers on your hip snake around and down into the waistband of your flimsy cotton underwear, body jolting as they slip inside and reach all the way down to your messy pussy. 
“Vash,” You whimper as his leather clad fingers toy with your swollen clit. 
“Vash…”
The wing that holds your hands captive disappears, and you sigh with relief as your arms fall and land on top Vash’s shoulders.
“Hold onto me little lovebug,” Vash coos, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.
“Fuck, you are so cute.”
Without reserve, Vash plunges two of his fingers into your sex. Your back arches, and you moan loudly as you wiggle your hips in an attempt to take his thick fingers deeper. You need him. You need him so desperately you feel like you’re gonna break.
Saccharine praise falls in hushed whispers from Vash’s lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot as he thrusts into your sloppy pussy ruthlessly. The wet squelch of your flesh lovingly sucking his fingers echoes across the empty hallway—indisputable proof oh just how much you want him.
“So wet. Gonna come on my fingers, lovebug? Think I should let you?”
You nod your head frantically, legs straining as you stand on the tips of your toes, thrusting against his hand with a wild cry—your cunt pulses and then practically weeps into his palm.
“YES! YES! Vash—please, please, let me come. Pleeease. ”
Oh, fuuuck. You’re so close. You’re gonna cum, just a little more. 
Vash smiles that dazzling handsome smile of his as his fingers tighten around your throat, cutting off most of your air and making your head spin. Your cunt squeezes around Vash’s fingers as he thrusts them inside, only for him to bully your g-spot until you cry.
“So pretty when you beg, baby.” Vash coos, licking a fallen tear from your cheek. 
“But…”
His fingers slip out of your puffy walls, and you cry out with frustration, fists banging against his shoulders like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum.
But Vash just laughs at you, and before you can give him a piece of your mind, he slides off your ruined panties and hoists you up into the air. Your back presses against the crumbling wall as your thighs come to rest on Vash’s shoulders.
He’s so strong.
Monster…
Without delay, Vash’s mouth dives between the twitching folds of your sex, and you scream up into the starless sky.
God, Vash always knows just how to pull you apart. He always manages to find that frayed and loose thread of your willpower, wrap it around his lithe fingers, and then pull it oh-so-gently. The reward of watching you as you unravel before him must have been the sweetest euphoria, because he kept doing it. Again and again.
“You taste so good.” Vash growls hotly against your sex. 
“Admit it, no one can treat you as good as I do.”
Vash’s tongue flattens along your pussy, red eyes making contact with yours and holding you there as he slowly and sensually circles his tongue around your clit.
“They don’t know how to worship this pussy properly.”
“Vash,” You beg, throat tightening as you choke on your tears. “Please, let me come. I’m aching.”
Wordlessly, Vash laps your clit into his mouth, giving it one harsh suck before snagging it between his teeth. You cry out, fingers burning into his white locks as he releases you.
“There, there lovebug. Spread your legs wider. You can take my tongue for just a little bit longer, right?”
Begrudgingly, you do as he says, and Vash groans as you spread yourself open just for him. The humanoid typhoon dives in again, lapping hungry stripes along your cunt—spitting on your little hole and then collecting every drop of his saliva and your slick that he can gather before readily swallowing every drop.
“I haven’t tasted you for a whole year.” Vash growls against your folds, the tip of his nose rubbing forcefully against your clit and making you see stars.
“It was torture being without you.”
Vash begins to thrust his tongue into your sex, sloppily eating then sucking your throbbing flesh into his mouth. With his body, Vash passionately coaxes out every hidden little secret you’d buried deep. You scream with rapture in his hands, more tears falling freely down your face as you rapidly unravel in Vash’s hands.
“Vash, don’t stop! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Anything you ask! Please!”
But just as you’re about to reach your climax, your pussy clenching sweetly around Vash’s talented tongue, the heat of Vash’s mouth slips away.
The wail of despair that is ripped from your throat echoes pathetically into the desert air.
Vash chuckles at your anguish, giving your pussy one last cheeky lick before lowering you back to the ground. 
The moment your feet touch the floor, your body sways, unsteady and dizzy from the unfulfilled pleasure that Vash had ransacked through your body.
But Vash holds you steady as he pushes his coat to the side and unbuckles himself. Your half hooded eyes fall to the place where he’s touching but before you can catch a glimpse, Vash positions you facing the wall, ass out and hands up—bracing yourself. 
You shiver at the loss of Vash’s warmth. Your trembling doesn’t escape Vash’s notice, but before he decides to comfort you, Vash gives your cunt a healthy slap.
You shriek, tossing a fiery glare at him over your shoulder. Infuriatingly, Vash gives you a flirtatious wink before pressing his body flush to yours and draping himself over you. His black wing and blue coat envelop you and shield you from the moonlight above.
“Cold?” Vash’s hands wrap around your waist. “You’re trembling.”
You don’t respond, your lips pressing together into a thin line as you push your body backwards, rubbing your pussy against his bulge with a wordless demand. You want Vash’s cock. You want him to soothe your ache, to fill you up and make you forget your own name. 
Vash exhales a pleasured sigh as you rub yourself against him, his hands moving from your waist to circle around your back. He traces your spine with the care a sculptor shows his masterpiece. Vash’s scarlet gaze drinks you in with awe as you arch needily under the pressure of his fingers.
“Don’t worry, lovebug. I’ll keep you warm from now on.”
The sounds of rustling fabric and the satisfying pull of a zipper elicit a flicker of heat in your core. You look back, a moan falling from your lips as you catch a glimpse of Vash’s perfect cock. He’s achingly hard, his beautiful pink head leaking a gorgeous, glistening trail of precum down onto the globe of your ass.
Licking your lips, your gaze captures his. Even in the dim light, you can see that Vash’s cheeks are flushed as he breathes heavily.
Then, without so much as a word, Vash leans back and shoves every single inch of his throbbing cock inside of you with a single thrust.
Your head flies back as you scream his name in ecstasy. Without missing a beat, Vash reaches forward to grab a fistful of your hair, and the two of you moan in unison as Vash begins to rut feverishly into your sex.
“V-Vash! Vash! Vash!”
Your bodies straining and hips trembling, Vash bears down on you like a storm, claiming every inch of your soft flesh with indiscriminate and unrelenting hunger. The slap of his hips forces your body forward, and you brace yourself against the crumbling wall with all your might as the typhoon ravishes you from the inside out.  
It’s not long before your orgasm builds up again. Fuck, you’re so close—twitching and milking Vash with each brutal thrust inside your walls. And Vash knows how turned on you are . He can feel how your slick insides squeeze and massage his cock desperately, the pounding of your heart under his fingertips, the delicious gasps of pleasure he pulls from the depths of your depravity.
And with one more savage thrust you finally come, screaming and quivering as your body succumbs to wave after wave of unimaginable, white hot pleasure.
But Vash doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm, holding your hips steady as he keeps pounding into you from behind, using you like a fleshlight for his pleasure.
“More.” Vash growls, fangs nipping sharply against the skin on your back. 
“Give me more!”
You gasp for breath, fingernails scratching against the deteriorating concrete as your pussy squeezes down on him, helplessly barreling your entire body into another orgasm even as you finish the last. The cry of pleasure you release is guttural, primal and sinful as your cunt pulses around Vash's cock once more—desperately sucking, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.
Vash stills for a moment, moaning openly as he savors the sensation and sight of your helpless body at his mercy. Vash’s chest burns with satisfaction as he feels the pleasure rolling off your skin. Pleasure that only he can give you. 
With a jerk of his body, Vash pulls his cock out of you. Then in a swift series of movements he pulls you upright and turns you around to face him. Your legs are practically jelly and utterly pliant to his whims as he hooks his arms under them and hauls you up in his arms. In response, you wrap your arms around Vash's neck and bury your face against his chest.
Vash buries his cock inside you to the hilt again, and your toes curl as you wail from the overstimulation. Surprisingly, Vash’s thrusts start slow, grinding into you languidly as you whine. The humanoid typhoon hushes your mewling sobs while he fucks you, pampering every part of you he can reach with his tender kisses—like the calm before the storm. It’s not long before Vash grows impatient however, and his pace rapidly quickens as he gives in to the raging lust inside him.
You.
His obsession.
His lovebug.
He’ll never let you go again.
“So good f’me.” Vash moans, fingers digging into your ass as he bounces your harder and faster on his cock. The lewd squelches and ring of cream that forms at his base the evidence of your sinful yearning.
“Gonna make you scream and squirt all over my cock, how does that sound?”
Vash’s unrelenting pace doesn’t falter as he chases your shared highs. You are powerless as you’re pulled into the undercurrent of his desire. Vash slams his dick inside you and his thick and demanding cockhead collides with your cervix. 
A surge of both pain and pleasure knocks the air out of your lungs as you’re sent tumbling into yet another powerful orgasm. Vash grins, utterly pleased with himself as he watches you cry and sing your anguished pleasure in his arms. Then, as if all this weren’t enough, a single large black feather slips between the two of your bodies like a snake, and begins to toy with your clit.
You scream.
“Come again.” Vash commands.
“Vash! S-stop!” You cry out, fat tears filling your eyes as drool falls from your lips from the overstimulation. God, he’s ruining you.
“I–I can’t come anymore! I can’t!”
Vash slams you against the wall, stabilizing you against it before one hand reaches down to pinch your clit, while his other hand wraps around your throat and squeezes.
“I’m not asking you. Come on my cock, now .”
Vash thrusts his shaft pitilessly inside you, the head of him ramming fiercely against your g-spot again before plunging all the way inside you. Your body can’t take it, the pressure between your hips releases, and you howl like an animal as your pussy pulses and gushes, squirting all over Vash’s cock as you come. 
An unabashed, obscene moan falls from Vash’s lips when he feels the rush of your pleasure in liquid form.
“That’s it, my perfect little slut. Sooo perfect. Look down and watch your pussy make a creamy little mess for me.”
And Vash still doesn’t stop. He continues to pound into you, fucking your through your orgasm yet again. He’s determined to thoroughly and irrevocably break you. And as you cling to him for dear life, the words that Vash had spoken earlier that night ring loud and clear in your mind.
“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”
You should have listened, but it was too late now.
Near delirious and exhausted, you practically fall limp in Vash’s arms, but Vash doesn’t let you tap out. Not yet. He pulls your head back, forcing you to look him straight in the eye, then he whispers,
“You are mine, do you understand? Your thoughts are mine. Your body is mine. Your pussy is mine…”
Vash slams back inside you with a force that nearly has you passing out. Then, he seals his lips with yours, tongue swirling and consuming everything he can reach.
When Vash releases you, you gasp for breath as his pace resumes.
“Your heart is mine.”
You swallow, your mind nothing but pleasured static and love drunk fog as you stare at him. That devilish smile returns to Vash’s face. He truly is incomplete without it.
“Admit it, lovebug.”
Your body trembles and in a desperate attempt to relieve yourself of this torture, the words escape you in a rush.
“Yes. I love you, Vash.”
Vash’s entire body shudders as he purrs at your confession. His dark wing drapes over the both of you as he claims your lips with yet another passionate kiss.
“Atta' girl.”
Surprisingly, Vash’s pace slows to a gentle grind. Slowly and languidly he rubs himself inside of you, as if he’s savouring you like a worshipper at a temple. The final orgasm that you share isn’t explosive like the ones you’ve had before.
It’s tender and sweet, washing over the both of you in gentle waves. Vash releases the softest and most beautiful moan as he comes, kissing you breathless as he fills you up with wave after wave of his hot cum.
For a brief moment, you wonder if this is the first time Vash had found release after you left. Had you been the only one to…
As your climaxes subside, harsh pants fill the air. Both you and Vash melt into each other’s arms, utterly destroyed and exhausted. Your sex throbs with a terrible ache, and to help relieve some of your tension you wiggle your hips, sliding Vash’s cock out half way in an attempt to get a breather.
But Vash growls, and shoves his cock all the way back inside you, grinding up against your cervix and making you whimper.
“Keep it all inside you, lovebug.” Vash murmurs softly. 
The humanoid typhoon claims your mouth with one more toe-curling kiss, and the two of you moan, slowly indulging in one another’s taste. Sucking and licking, until finally you have to pull away for air.
Vash pouts, but then he pulls back, electing to admire your love drunk expression instead.
“Didn’t you know?” Vash whispers, leaning back in to rub the tip of his nose against yours. 
“Lovebugs stay connected to their mates for life.”
You pause and digest those words. While they may seem romantic on the surface, deep down you see the foreboding promise they hold. Pulling away from Vash’s pampering, you respond.
“Lovebugs don’t live long. They die right after they mate.”
It’s Vash’s turn to pause, his expression quizzical as he looks into your eyes. But after a few beats, a sickeningly sweet smile spreads across his lips. It’s the kind of smile only a god of death could have.
“You’ll be the exception.”
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lurkinggirlie · 1 month
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Elain & Azriel are EndGame
Azriel’s bonus chapter: semi-essay on my thoughts
This post will be a long one. The shipwar has been going on for far too long, and there's a possiblity that we'll be getting closure soon. So, I want to put my thoughts out there. For Obvious reasons, I could be very wrong, but this is what I think based on canon text: (Ignore any errors..I haven't edited this, and I'm sure there are many posts like this that are way more articulate)
Elriel are endgame. If they’re not then Azriel is kinda pathetic and having him end-up with anyone else is bad writing and character assassination. (Which we sadly won’t put past sjm but I don’t think she would..at least I hope)
1- Elain has no other love interest. Yes, Lucien is her mate but we have hinted at a broken/rejected mating bond for the longest time when it comes to these two so having them accept it eventually is going to be quite underwhelming, repetitive and boring. Even Lucien seems to have given up/isn’t interested in bridging that gap between them, which we’re told in both acofas and acosf. Unless you want to count the longing pointed out by Cassian, although Cassian also pointed out that Lucien was also uncomfortable when he mentioned his mate. To add on, there is no sexual tension between the two, and we know how important that is for sjm’s couple. You can't keep whining "but Elain isn't giving him a chance, if only she gave him a chance, then maybe this and maybe that" Elain is not a seprate entity, she is what SJM writes, Sjm could have written that but she did not yet and I'm not sure if she will. It feels too late at this point, she had already shown us that Elain has feelings for someone else aka Azriel. The author doesn't have to spell everything out for us to understand to what's going on. Sarah usually makes it clear who's endgame. and she literally is. So, it would be very sudden and out of the blue if Lucien and Elain were to end up together when she had never shown it before. When even Azriel pointed this out “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway” people can say Rhys killed elriel, that the bonus chapter ended them. But this line right here tells us otherwise! First we know Azriel and Elain can read each other so well that they don’t need words, and then Azriel tells us this. He’s literally telling us that Elain does not want Lucien.
We also cannot compare elucien to Feysand or Nessian in the “enemies to lovers" department, because these two seem to hardly care about each other. For obvious reasons she wouldn’t accept or reject Lucien in a book that isn’t hers. But if they do end up together I’d feel robbed that she had more sexual tension with Azriel than she did with Lucien. And we know that Nessian and Feysand had sexual tension before getting together. Most of what we got from Elain and Lucien was awkwardness, and discomfort. Not a single spark. Furthermore, it would feel like Azriel was just leading Elain own. Plus their romance (Lucien and Elain)  would not feel organic, only getting with Lucien because she felt rejected by Azriel, which doesn’t give epic romance no matter how sjm tries to spin it. It would always make Lucien seem like the second choice.
2- Azriel regifting the necklace was a dickhead move, and offensive to both girls. Anyone thinking the regifting of the necklace ended elriel or started gwynriel is delusional and clearly doesn’t know how the romance genre works. (should’ve thrown the gift in the Sidra like Cassain did) I can’t believe Rhys isn’t paying Azriel enough that he felt the need to return the necklace to the shop instead of throwing it. Senstive Illyrian baby indeed. 
3- Rhys saying stay away from Elain (can we take a moment to appreciate how sexy Rhys was for pulling rank, he really made the ship more interesting now) and Azriel actually listening to him?? When he told him you can’t order me to do that. shit would be underwhelming if Azriel actually stayed away? Hello? Secret relationship potential ? Hello? Forbidden romance potential  ??? The tropes would be epic. Sjm had never done that. And I’m not saying she will, but this is how I see it playing out. + Azriel saying it was a mistake to Elain, and Elain apologizing?? The fact she was confused/hurt and probably thought she misunderstood the whole situation? SHE IS BABYGIRL?? Regardless, Azriel saying it was a mistake and it being a mistake is NOT it. This is not how romance works most of the time. This is such a basic romantic trope, why are a lot of people misinterepting it? Elain deserves better, and sjm isn’t about to hurt Elain’s feelings without making it up to her. And she’s definitely not making Azriel end up with another girl before he fixes that shit. I will be needing a proper apology to Elain.  
4- Whenever people think of the bonus chapter they weigh in Azriel’s feelings far more than Elain’s. It’s clear that Elain and Azriel’s feelings are MUTUAL, ignore the bonus chapter and it’s right there in the actual book. I don’t think Elain got the memo that Azriel had  a conversation with another girl after he hurt her feelings which made him realize he’s in love all of a sudden. *sarcasm*  that would be very out of character for Azriel. 
5- His chest sparkling at the thought of Gwyn getting the necklace was so??? I have been saying he’s for the streets and yes this was out of pocket. So, I understand people shipping them. However it could mean anything really, you can't continue saying that Gwyn in the bonus has to mean something, and that that spark must mean somethig but continue to disreagrd every single Elriel interaction like they mean nothing. Because for it to be taken as romance we’d have to ignore the beginning of the bonus, the feysand’s bonus acosf/acomaf/acowar and acofas. + we could easily take this in a platonic way, which is how I viewed it when I read the bonus. Not everything has to be romantic. And sjm will NOT introduce a new guy to make him end up with Elain since we already established Elain doesn’t want Lucien and Lucien doesn’t want her either. 
6- I know that a lot of people have theories about Gwyn being a lightsinger and all of this happening because of her powers (While I do think this is very smart, it wasn’t something I thought of so I won’t talk about it). I do think it’s possible, and all the theories I saw were really cool but idk where sjm is going with this, so to make it simple I do think it could be because she’s his student, she went through a lot it could simply be platonic happiness that a girl who went through so much is going to be happy about something. Even if it was a secondhand necklace specifically picked with ANOTHER girl in mind PLUS I do think sjm wanted drama, and for people to doubt elriel cuz now they have all these obstacles, so Gwyn would be the easy choice, but the second choice regardless. The relationship would feel icky and I genuinely cannot see the potential gwynriels keep talking about. I would take the ship a lot more seriously if a) he didn’t regift her another girl’s necklace b) there was more to them in the actual book. c) he wasn’t still upset about it 3 days later… 
7- There’s a high possibility Gwyn never even got the necklace..
He gave it to Clotho not Gwyn, he didn’t want his name mentioned, and then said if any other girl would like it to give it to them: the aim was to get rid of Elain’s necklace. It’s sort of a parallel with Cassain throwing away Nesta’s present.
I think it’s possible that Azriel went there because he knows how much the girls in the library have suffered, especially since his mom did too, it's possible he thought "okay this is a pretty necklace, I don't want to hold onto the reminder of what could've been, so instead of throwing it let another girl be happy about it. At least it won’t go to waste”
Clotho could tell there was something wrong, like maybe she sensed the energy and decided ayeee let me keep this aside for him, he might come back and ask for it. 
The bonus did not happen at the end of the book 
If Azriel was truly in love with Gwyn now /or he wanted her/ or more between them was going to happen/ or they were mates according to some theories we could have AT LEAST gotten more after the bonus. 
We know the bonus happened after solstice.
Nesta mentions that Azriel was stone-faced and more aloof than usual, he wouldn’t even give her a smile. That was 3 days after the necklace situation. I think it would’ve been a great opportunity to highlight any attraction between Azriel and Gwyn.
Maybe he sees the necklace around her neck, maybe Nesta and Emerie compliment Gwyn’s necklace, or Gwyn telling them she doesn’t know who it’s from, maybe they tease her that someone might have a crush on her. Nesta could’ve pointed out that Azriel was looking at Gwyn’s necklace.or looking at Gwyn in some sort of way. Literally anything. 
Anyone pointing out the way Azriel and Gwyn looked at each other. A charged glance perhaps. Literally ANYTHING. We only got him looking at her with admiration which is very teacher coded. 
If sjm hadn’t made Nesta realize Azriel had a thing for Elain then maybe gwnyriel would’ve been more appealing to me. But no, Nesta noticed. This doesn’t mean nothing people.
aside from that we got nothing romantic, but a part of the fandom still acts like we need to exile Elain because she’s coming between Gwyn and Azriel’s epic love story.
Not everyone has access to the bonus.  
The Azriel chapter was only in ONE store in the US, but Feysand’s bonus chapter was in 3 stores in the US and UK. I don't know but something tells me it’s more important.  Soooo if SJM would do a love interest switch she would not do it in a bonus chapter, and wouldn’t be highlighting the Az/Elain interactions in ACOSF as much as she did. 
Feyre’s chapter focuses on Elain, it literally tells us Elain is next once we’re done helping Nesta. EASY MATH. and the Azriel bonus also focuses on elriel/Azriel’s feelings. ENDGAME MATERIAL RIGHT HERE. 
But the girls swear up and down that Gwyn and Azriel’s book is next because of a secondhand necklace. 
Let’s assume elriels are the delusional ones (like so many of them say), how do we explain these. 
Casual readers who usually read books and aren’t on the internet and aren’t looking for bonus content (wish that was me)  (lord knows I skipped every bonus chapter in throne of glass and crescent city and I wasn’t confused about anything. Not even once) so they’d expect answers for 
The Charged glance between Azriel and Elain
Azriel following the sound of Elain’s laughter. 
Elain looking away when Azriel smiled at her during family dinner, Cassian god bless him that idiot could NOT piece all of that together. BUT it was still highlighted through his POV ???
His secret to tell never hers (and we do learn of that secret in the bonus but people who didn’t read it could only guess so they’d want a confirmation) and sjm did say in one of her lives that Nesta learns of one of Azriel’s secrets (she looked all giddy about it)... and that Azriel is going through some shit right now…and we learn why from the bonus chapter. 
Cassian being confused that it seems like Azriel moved on from Mor
Nesta pointing out that Elain moved on from Graysen
Cassian wondering why Elain is lying about where she’s going. (I viewed this as her avoiding Azriel but idk) 
Azriel’s protectiveness of Elain. He gives mate behavior without the mate part. (I will hit him on the head though omg let my girl do something)
Elain willing to look for the troves even when Nesta wasn’t, the girl wants to do something  (her journey is coming next) 
Nesta wondering if Elain is training with Azriel or the twins (who are spies that were trained by Azriel !!!) 
Feyre telling Azriel that Elain got him beat for secret keeping. Sure it might sound delusional but Elain keeps being compared to Az/being a spy and maybe this could be a thing. 
Elain speaking back to her sisters about them treating her like a child?? Hello finally 
The way Elain’s mother only treated her like a pretty doll which shaped up Elain’s whole life??? I want this from Elain’s POV sooo bad 
In conclusion, we’re not pausing Elain’s story so Azriel can end up with a side character in a spinoff about an og side character, we’re sticking to our og side characters for now.
Azriel being over Mor because of Elain, and Elain moving on from Graysen because of Azriel only for Elain to get over Azriel to be with Lucien (who we got nothing from aside a mating bond..) and for Az to get over Elain and questioning fate for her…only to end up with gwyn…like I don’t think anyone could take Azriel’s feelings seriously if this happens. Shit will be too goofy.  Because if he ends up with Gwyn who says he won’t move on to the next pretty girl he sees afterwards.
To add to that, what plot would we have for Azriel and Gwyn. We'll get more Valkyries training, more healing journey so the plot would have to be paused for this. Nesta’s book was mostly about her healing journey and friendship, while it was nice I don’t want a repeat for the next book. Especially since we know the Rite took a toll on Gwyn, she went back to the library, wasn’t even sure she would make it to Nessian’s mating ceremony. This doesn’t give the protagonist of the next book to me. Or "I thought it was pretty obvious"
Elain’s healing journey had started in ACOWAR, she got her friends in ACOWAR. Now is their TIME to do something!! She is next. 
Closing thoughts on what I think would happen based off each ship happening: 
If elriel happens = new sjm couple dynamic/interesting plot. Fresh sjm protagonist that is unlike sjm's others + we don’t ignore all the foreshadowing and hints. We follow the love triangle we set up in the og trilogy + finally get a rejected mating bond. And instead of warrior training we might get spy training and instead of physical power (as far as we know) we get something more mental. Again this is very new for sjm + there’s a lot to Elain’s power that we don’t know and since Azriel was the one who found out what she was, I think it would make more sense for him to know how to help her. Imagine the sexual tension during training..yes please. I hope sjm doesn’t rob me. Elain is really mysterious, we got Nesta’s inner thoughts before her book but we still haven't gotten a peep about Elain’s inner thoughts and I’m just dying to know more. AND THE STAKES!
1) Rhys forbidding Azriel from Elain, 2) Elain’s mating bond,3) Azriel’s self doubt and how he doesn’t think he’s good enough. 4) The blood duel and the political mess we could get into. (Lucien probs won't but what if Beron would, the breeding potential, A seer must be a powerful thing she can see things others can't and I think that’s valuable. If Eris thought Nesta was valuable as cauldron made and there was no potential there, so The Autumn court probably feels even more entitled to Elain) We have high inner and outer stakes. I have a feeling SJM will fumble all this potential but a girl can dream 
If elucien happens = another successful mating bond + “enemies”  to lovers sort of but they won’t ever be mean to each other so maybe not enemies, just dislike and awkwardness to friends to lovers?  We ignore the hints about a rejected bond and in mating bonds we trust. We also ignore all the elriel hints, and their mutual feelings. We follow the love triangle set up in the og trilogy. I don’t think Lucien could train her in anything? Maybe self defense, Idk Sarah could pull something, but I don’t see Elain leaving her circle of friends but neither do I see Lucien settling in the night court and leaving his own friends. There are no stakes but Elain’s and Lucien’s awkwardness around each other + Elain’s feelings for Azriel. Elain’s and Lucien’s plot connects though so at least there’s that, SJM could ship them off on a mission together and make them get closer. Forced proximity sort of thing. 
If gwynriel happens then = we lost the whole plot, ignored the foreshadowing and hints found in the actual book. Mentor to lovers, civil with each other. Azriel has to move on from Elain first though and that could be icky. Healing journey, more Valkyries training. So we pick up from where we left off in acosf, and we’d see Azriel trying to get her to come out of the Library, or he goes to visit her there until she agrees to come out again. Maybe if Gwyn is a lightsinger then idk more training with Azriel? Again, no stakes but Gwyn’s trauma and Azriel’s self doubt oh and also his feelings for Elain. But that’s it, Gwyn as of now does not connect to the overall plot with the troves (she’s not made therefore she can’t use them) or koschei. So I don’t see us making her go on a mission like that. I’ve seen a lot of gwynriles saying Gwyn has spy potential idk where, but she could barely keep a secret for Nesta so I highly doubt she’d be keeping secrets for the IC. 
Ps: the original koschei plot is 3 sisters marrying 3 very powerful wizards and like idk 3 sisters 3 brothers…we can have a retelling ya know 
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mint-yooxgi · 9 months
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{14} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa near the end, Slight Hongjoong)
Words: 16,125
Warnings: Brief mentions of anxiety and PTSD (not OC), mentions of blood, weapons. Smut: Oral (m. rec.), subby!Hwa, minor knife play and begging, I think that's it. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: I'm glad I split this into two parts. I knew it was going to be long! And boy oh boy, who's excited for the next chapter? I'm excited for the next chapter! iykyk ;)) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.
Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen
There’s an eager spring to your step as Yeosang leads you over to a side door, of which he’s just made materialize in front of your eyes. Not even the grumbling of the other seven males behind you can bring down your mood, excitement coursing through your veins as he opens the door, holding it open for you to step through in the next second.
“I’m still not used to you all being able to do that.” You comment, smiling at Yeosang in thanks as you step into the new room.
It’s a bit dark, so you can’t quite see much, but you can feel them all stepping in behind you.
“It’s great for hiding things in plain sight.” San comments, attempting to step in beside you, only for Yeosang to take his place in an instant.
“I can imagine- holy shit!” The moment the lights come on, you’re greeted by a room full of bows and arrows of various shapes and sizes.
Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you take in the grand space before you. It’s a simple room in all aspects, square in design with mounts and racks to hold all of the various weapons that you can just tell all belong to Yeosang. Not that you would doubt that for even a minute.
Softly, you hear the sound of the door shutting behind you.
Pure excitement thrums through your veins, your body practically vibrating as you take in the space around you. Still, you keep your distance, not wanting to touch anything and risk damaging or breaking any of the various weapons lining the room. The urge to touch everything in sight is quite strong, and you cannot help the way your fingers twitch, almost subconsciously, at your sides.
“Go ahead, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles gently at you, a small nod to his head. “Don’t hold back.”
You do not need to be told twice.
Almost as soon as the words have left his mouth, you’re zipping over to the wall in front of you and inspecting all the different styles of bows. There’s a giddiness to your movements as you look over some more traditional, simplistic bows made of various materials such as metal and wood, to more intricately designed ones. Each weapon varies in colour, some curving in a singular arch, while others curve like stereotypical ‘m’ shaped birds in children’s drawings. Even the strings vary in colour, some being a pure white, while others are a dark red.
One bow in particular catches your eyes, and before you realize what you’re doing, you reach out to it. However, before you can so much as lay a single finger on the intricate carvings, you catch yourself.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, you retract your hand.
A low chuckle sounds right behind you.
“It’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang steps up to you, pressing himself against your back so that he can lean into you. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as his hands settle against your waist. “What’s mine is yours.”
A shiver caresses your spine, and you can practically feel him smirk against the skin of your neck.
“I just don’t want to damage anything,” you mutter, still unsure of if you should reach out and touch the gorgeous bow resting before you.
“Believe us, Darling,” Jongho comments, and you can just hear the affectionate smile that he wears in his voice as he speaks. “You don’t have to worry about damaging anything. Our weapons are made with the strongest materials available to us. You couldn’t put a scratch on them, even if you tried.”
“Not to mention the magic we imbue them with for extra protection,” Yunho hums.
Understanding flashes across your features, nodding your head almost subconsciously. Still, your eyes briefly dart over to Yeosang one last time, who’s head rests just beside your own. As soon as you see him smile and nod, you take that intricately carved bow into your hands.
Vines appear to wrap themselves around the shaft of the bow, leaves branching out in intricate designs over the wood. The string is a solid white, while the colour of the bow itself is an almost faded grey, appearing a misty green in the light. It’s not very heavy by any means, but just from merely looking at the bow, you can tell that it’s strong.
Carefully, your fingers trace over the carvings, nothing but pure wonder shining in your eyes. “Did you carve this yourself?”
You feel Yeosang nod against your shoulder, and your lips part in awe as a low gasp escapes you.
“Wow.”
“We make all of our own weapons, My Divine.” Seonghwa makes sure to keep his tone soft as he informs you of this, not wanting to disturb the moment that’s settled around you all. “Have been since the beginning.”
“That’s incredible.” You breathe out, turning to face the other seven males with that bow still in your hands. “You’re all incredible!”
The way they all smile shyly in response says it all.
“Seriously, is there anything you all can’t do?” You turn your attention back to the bow in your hands, heart thundering as you stroke a hand down the shaft of the bow.
Mingi’s lips part in response, but at the quick jab of San’s elbow to his ribs, he’s closing it.
You quirk a brow in amusement, not needing to be able to read his mind to know he was about to remind you all that he can’t cook once again.
Sparing another glance around the room, your eyes catch on another intricately carved bow. Another gasp is escaping your lips as you waddle over to it excitedly, noticing how the two tips seem to be shaped like serpents which appear to intertwine intricately with one another to make the body of the bow.
“Literally, these are so beautiful.” You say, eyes scanning over every detail that you can.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, My Dear,” Yeosang chuckles, his one hand settling onto the small of your back as you walk around the room.
“This is one of the best days of my life,” you reply honestly, walking over to the wall of arrows across from you.
In no time at all, Yeosang launches into an explanation of all the different types of arrows he uses. The majority, he’s made himself, while others have been a collaboration between him and his brothers. Wooyoung more than happily chimes in when the different poison arrows are mentioned, the two of them detailing how each poison is administered depending on the arrow. Some are injected through the shaft, while other arrows are coated in the poison which gets administered through point of contact.
The whole time, you listen intently. Your eyes never lose that shine of wonder, lips pulling upwards in a radiant smile as they all observe you taking this all in. The fact that you appear so interested, and ecstatic to learn about all of this is making their hearts sing, and their souls come alight.
Finally, they can share this with you, too.
“So,” you turn back to Yeosang after he’s finished describing how his shattering arrows work. “Which one is your favourite?”
The way his eyes light up even further at your inquiry says it all.
“Design wise,” immediately, he’s pointing at the bow carved to resemble those two intertwined snakes. “Functionality, though, is a different story.”
Leading you back over to the main wall that you had grabbed the intricately carved bow with the vines from, he’s quick to grab another off of a hook. It’s quite simplistic in design, smooth black edges greeting your vision. The bow appears to be made out of some sort of thin metal, the edges sharp in the light of the room.
Ever so carefully, Yeosang trades the bow in your hand which you have yet to let go of with this new one. He’s quick to place the wooden one back on the wall as you marvel at how light this new bow is, holding it in the air slightly beside your head.
“The edges can cut through steel.” He comments casually.
“More like anything that you can imagine.” San chuckles, crossing his arms lightly.
Anticipation claws at his chest. Really, anticipation claws at all of their chests. If this is how you’re reacting to Yeosang’s weapons, then they each cannot wait for you to see their own collections. The wonder and awe alone is enough to satiate their original burning jealousy that had arisen at the fact that it was Yeosang who managed to both get you to use his weapon with him first, as well as show you his collection.
“What’s it made out of?” You ask, nothing but curiosity to your tone as you inspect the bow. You know better than to run your fingers along the sharp edges, but that does not stop you from turning it over slightly in your hands while gripping the handle.
“It’s a special kind of metal found only in our realm.” Mingi tells you. “Most of our weapons are made out of it, since it’s the lightest material we have, while also being the most durable.”
“So, it’s like vibranium from the marvel universe?” You quirk a brow at all of them, somewhat knowingly.
“You could say that.” Seonghwa chuckles, nodding his head lightly in response to your words.
“We call it Sage Metal,” Hongjoong says. “It’s the only thing strong enough to cut itself.”
“Wow,” you repeat your awe filled exhalation from earlier. “Can it be worked like any other metal, or is there a special process you have to use while forging it?”
“It can be worked like any other metal.” Seonghwa confirms, a sort of pride shining in his eyes as he watches you with a smile. “It’s got an insanely high boiling point though, so San and Mingi have the easiest time out of all of us working with it.”
At this, your brow quirks.
“We each have materials we work best with.” Mingi shrugs. “Just like we have preferred weapons we like to use.”
“That’s really cool!” You say, handing Yeosang back his bow.
“You should have seen the amount of times our workshops caught fire in the early days.” San jokes, the slightest of upturns to the corner of his lips. “Good thing we’re quick learners.”
“Yeah, that, and you didn’t want to singe all of your hair off again.” Wooyoung laughs, leading to him soon being chased around the small space by the elder male.
You laugh, “I take it that that happened more than once?”
“To all of us.” Seonghwa confirms, voice suddenly a bit strained as he seems to be recalling the memories right this very instant. Subconsciously, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Multiple times.”
A snort of laughter escapes you this time, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.
Amused quirks of their brows greet you in response, and you find yourself waving your free hand in front of yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just really funny to imagine. I like knowing you guys weren’t always this composed.”
This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to snort out a laugh, “Angel, when have you ever known us to be composed around you?”
You take a moment to consider his words, even going so far as to lift a finger in protest as your lips part. Then, you’re nodding, eyebrows raising in agreement, “A good point.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jongho rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as a huff escapes him.
You simply quirk a brow in amusement at him, your one hand coming up to rub almost teasingly at the side of your neck where he bit you all those weeks ago.
Subtly, red begins to creep up his neck.
“Right, well,” he clears his throat, “Shall we move on to the next room?”
A few side-eyed looks are sent the youngest’s way in response, and you swear you see both Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s eyes flash black for the briefest of moments. However, before you can think too much on it, San is practically grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Yeosang. All too eagerly, the younger male leads you back over to the door you entered into the room from. A second later, he’s opening it and guiding you through.
Your eyes immediately light up at seeing all of the different spears, tridents, and javelins lining the walls, amongst other pole based weapons. Again, they’re all made form a range of materials in a variety of colours, and each design manages to take your breath away.
“Go wild,” San leans in to whisper in your ear, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.
A large, giddy smile pulls onto your lips as you immediately race over to the one wall. There’s a specific spear that’s caught your eye, and the closer you get to the tip, the more detail work you can see carved into it. There seems to be a pattern of sorts etched into the metal, unfamiliar to you with all its swirls and shapes, but beautiful nonetheless.
The entire room is silent as you stand there, observing the intricate detailing of the spear’s tip. Each male watches you fondly, enjoying this moment for as long as they possibly can. Seeing your wonder and marvel at all of the designs makes their hearts race, and knowing that you’re enjoying yourself currently means the world to each and every single one of them.
Finally, you begin to move around the room, San right beside you the whole time.
“I feel like I’m in an art museum or something.” You admit lowly, voice airy and full of awe.
“Well, designing and forging weapons is simply another form of art.” Yunho nods his agreement.
“And you’ve all been making these your whole lives?” You turn to glance at the others from over your shoulder.
Small nods of confirmation greet you in response, subtle smiles pulling at all of their features.
“It’s why we take such great lengths to store them.” Yeosang adds. “Only we can access these rooms, for they are intricately linked, and can only be entered through this one door.”
Nothing but awe shines in your eyes as your lips part. A breathless ‘wow’ escapes you once more, turning lightly in a circle as you take in the whole room.
“Then, there are eight rooms?” You turn back to face them.
“Eight main ones, yes.” San says. “We have many storage rooms, and way too many weapons we no longer use.”
“That’s not to mention each of our own forges which are connected to our storehouses.” Seonghwa comments casually, leaning against the wall right beside the door.
“So, the rooms are almost like a labyrinth of sorts?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry.
“You could say that.” Hongjoong chuckles. “It’s more of individual blocks of rooms floating in limbo within our domain until we summon the rooms to this door.”
“Ah,” you nod slowly in understanding. “I see.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “That’s still really cool.”
Little do you see the small, bashful smiles that tug at their features as you look away for the moment.
Turning back to face the tridents, you take in the various styles lining the wall. Some are placed vertically, while others sit horizontally, displaying the many pikes on each.
Two in particular - one silver with five prongs, and one gold with three prongs - catch your eye. Both are shiny, appearing as if they might be the newest to his collection as they are displayed side by side on a slight angle. It’s as if he purposely hung them like this; to emphasize the set they seem to make together. They’re quite familiar, and as you get closer, you realize why.
The silver one is a perfect replica of Queen Atlanna’s trident from the Aquaman film, while the gold is a perfect replica of Arthur’s own.
The way San is staring at you, his eyes shining with nothing but affection with just a hint of nervousness, says it all.
You smile, grabbing his hand in your own. Softly, you squeeze, warmth flooding your chest as you understand exactly what his intentions are. He made these for you, and him. He means for the two of you to use these together. The set never meant to be separated, or be without the other in battle.
For a brief moment, you allow him passed your void.
My Aquaman. You hum, squeezing his hand once more. Thank you.
My Queen, He mirrors your smile, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as he squeezes your hand back. I’m just glad you like them.
Like them? You reply, rather eagerly. Sannie, I love them.
The soft giggle he lets out fills the room, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the weight of his happiness. I’m glad.
Softly, you wiggle your intertwined hands in the space between your bodies. Not even a moment later, you’re turning back to the wall of tridents, lifting your gaze to take in the ones near the top of the wall. That’s when another, near the corner of the room, catches your attention.
A gasp escapes you. “No way.”
Rushing over to the trident, you end up half dragging, half pulling San along with you. You’ve closed your void to him now, so he cannot get a sense of what it truly is that’s caught your attention. That is, until you’re speaking once more.
“So, when were you going to tell me that you have an exact replica of Finnick’s trident from Catching Fire?” You quirk a brow, glancing at him briefly.
San grins, lifting said object off of the wall. “I figured it would be a nice surprise.”
“You seem to be full of nice surprises today, Pretty Boy.” You grin right back, watching as he handles that trident carefully before you.
“So, that’s what you ran off to make that one day,” Jongho mumbles, understanding painting his features. “I was wondering why you were asking me all those questions about her favourite book series.”
“I do love The Hunger Games.” You nod, eyes widening in excitement as San hands you the trident. “Finnick is my favourite character.” Then, a moment’s pause as you look over the weapon in your hands. “Him and Annie deserved better.”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nodding solemnly along with your words.
“I thought it was that set he made that day,” Hongjoong motions back to the Aquaman tridents proudly on display.
“I had to start with something easier,” San replies, sparing a look at all of his brothers.
“You count this design as easy?” You voice, incredulously, as the fingers of your one hand come up to trace the pole gently.
San only chuckles in response, offering you a small shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t blame him.” Mingi hums, glancing from Jongho to Seonghwa. “There seems to be a recurring theme of making replicas of weapons belonging to your favourite characters and series, Starlight.”
“Speaking from experience, Min?” You place the trident back in its spot, moving over to where the others are standing after having your fill of looking around.
“You’ll see.” He chuckles, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
Only, the youngest placing his hand onto the small of your back beats him to it. You nearly shiver from the contact, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into your bare skin. 
That’s when you remember: you’re still only in your sport’s bra for the moment.
A glare is sent Jongho’s way, not just from Mingi, but from San as well. Your time in his weapon’s hold was far too short for his liking, but at least you enjoyed yourself. A bonus? You’re still beaming as Jongho leads you back through the door.
The moment you step through the threshold to be surrounded by axes of every size, shape, and colour, your lips part in a gasp, “Oh my.”
On one wall, throwing axes and hatchets are displayed. The opposite, everything ranging from a typical fireman’s axe, to the most intricately designed single bladed axes reside. On the final wall, double bladed axes reside, one sticking out more than the rest.
Your eyes widen, practically running out of Jongho’s hold as you see the axe resting in the centre display. It’s dual blades are familiar to you, the metal smooth before giving way to two sets of three triangles hollowed out on either side of the shaft. There, detailed rune work resides, and you find you can only place your hand over your heart in attempts to quell its beating.
“I see what you mean.” You swallow thickly, nearly jumping as you feel Jongho’s hand return to the small of your back.
“It’s quite effective in battle,” Jongho mentions casually, leading you over to the wall of hatches to show you the two other small axes that Gimli has in his arsenal that he’s also taken the liberty to make.
“You’ve already used Gimli’s axe in battle?” There’s nothing but wonder in your voice as you look at him, your whole body practically vibrating in excitement.
“Not yet, technically.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “But the simulations have all run smoothly.”
You turn back to the weapons before you, nothing but wonder in your eyes, “Wow.”
You’re starting to notice a slight pattern to the rooms now. All of them seem to be about the same size, with their weapons all lining the walls. Some of them even have a few extra racks to hold certain designs, but for the most part, the main wall houses what you assume to be the favourites, while the other side walls hold the smaller designs. They’re all organized quite well, and from the gleam you can see coming from each polished weapon, you can tell that they are all well taken care of, and maintained regularly.
Something they seem to have in common for all of the things that they care for - a great sense of both responsibility, and attention to detail when looking after them.
“Come, there’s another one I want to show you.” Jongho gently guides you to the opposite wall.
Sticking out his hand, an axe comes flying off of the wall from higher up. It spins in the air as it travels the short distance to his hand, the dark silver of the single edged blade glinting in the light. There seems to be a smaller blade protruding from the opposite side of the handle, acting as a continuation of the main blade on the other side.
The instant it touches Jongho’s hand, your eyes are widening as another gasp escapes you. The veins of gold carved into the blade stand out starkly against the darkness of the silver. The wooden handle is slightly curved, the blade itself covering almost half of the length of the wood.
“No way you made Kratos’ Leviathan Axe.” Your voice holds nothing but awed disbelief as you look over every inch of that axe Jongho holds out for you. “And you can summon it to your hands like he can in the game?”
“We can summon all of our weapons to our hands like that, My Love.” Hongjoong chuckles, eyebrows raising in amusement as he sees the glare Jongho sends him for stealing his thunder.
“How does it work?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room.
“Usually just requires a drop of our blood and a binding spell.” Seonghwa explains.
“So, that’s how you can make your weapons appear out of thin air?” You ask, wonderstruck. “Not cause you’re doing something like reaching through realms, or into a pocket of space?”
Yunho chuckles, along with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi.
“No, Petal,” he grins fondly at your curious expression. “Unfortunately we cannot do that, but it is how we are able to summon our weapons to us instantly.”
“Does it work on other things, too?” You inquire, nearly dropping the axe in your excitement as Jongho hands it to you.
“It works on anything we bind ourselves to in that way.” Mingi confirms.
“So, if you wanted to summon each other?” You tilt your head slightly as you finally get a good grip on the handle of the axe. “It’d be different than your transportation thingy?”
“Slightly.” Hongjoong confirms. “Think of it as a mere aspect of our teleportation.”
“But still different than a proper summoning spell.” Yeosang adds.
You nod, spinning that axe slowly in your hands as you look over the detail work.
“Would it work in battle?” You glance upwards. “If you ever needed to save each other from a killing blow? Or if one of you needed back up?”
“Normally, we’d just use our teleportation for that.” Mingi shrugs, leaning against an open part of the wall.
“That’s fair,” you hum, eyes shifting their focus back to the axe in your hands.
Where the gems would normally reside, you’ve noticed two other small jewels in their place. One is an opal, and the other is your own birthstone. A fact of which makes you smile, for you know both are meant to represent you and Jongho.
“With this summoning thing, is it automatic if you think of the item?” You hand Jongho the axe back, not wanting to risk damaging it right now as your curiosity is getting the better of you.
“It’s practically second nature to us now.” Wooyoung confirms with a nod. “The closer the object, the easier it is to summon it.”
“That makes sense.” You nod, eyes catching on another intricately carved axe for the moment. “Oh!”
The blade is hollowed in some areas, giving a sort of skeleton design to the metal. It’s intricately carved, the design looking more for style than functionality. However, you know that it’s more than likely made out of that Sage Metal that they told you about earlier. The axe is more than durable, and certainly functional.
“This is beautiful,” you breathe, tracing the spaces in the metal lightly with your index finger. Of course, you make sure not to touch the edges of the metal, not wanting to cut yourself on accident. Who knows how they would react to that.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Jongho whispers lowly into your ear as he steps up behind you, wrapping you in his arms.
A snort of laughter escapes you, lips parting in disbelief.
“Oh, Baby Bear,” you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. “Please don’t say such cringy things to me. You’re more suave than that.”
You don’t have to look at him to see the giant pout Jongho now wears on his features, only deepened by the laughter of his brothers.
“Oh, can it.” He turns to them, a frown on his features. “You were all thinking it, too.”
Again, you shake your head, lovingly this time. “What am I going to do with all of you?”
Wooyoung slides right up to your side, pulling you out of Jongho’s embrace and into his own. Carefully, he begins leading you back to the door.
“Love us unconditionally for all eternity?” There’s a hint of hope in his eyes, swirling within that all too familiar admiration and adoration you’ve become so used to from him. 
From all of them.
You hum, pretending to think about it for a moment. You stop just before the closed door, sparing a glance around at all of them briefly.
You smile lovingly, “That can be arranged.”
Low hums of content greet your ears as you reach forward to open the door. You do not need to look at them to know that they are gazing at you with nothing but a tender fondness in their eyes right now. You can feel it surrounding you as you step through the door, flooding your veins and comforting you right down to your very core.
Their unspoken response rings loud and clear through your mind, despite your void still being up. There is no doubt in your mind that they will do the same: love you unconditionally for all eternity. They’ve already proven, in more ways than one, that they do.
The moment you refocus in on the room surrounding you, your eyes catch on bottles upon bottles lining the shelves built into every free inch of the walls of this room. Various colourful liquids reside inside, some even appearing to glow with how vibrantly they shine beneath the lights. Small vials rest beside them, and you think you know what rests inside those.
Understanding flashes across your features and you turn to Wooyoung who practically shakes in excitement beside you.
“So, which one is the deadliest?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.
A giddy smile stretches across his features, which then slowly morphs into a sly smirk, “No hesitation, huh, Angel?”
“I’m curious,” You shrug, nonchalantly.
He hums, “It’s just over here.”
Leading you over to a wall with the darkest liquids residing on the shelves, Wooyoung lifts his free hand. Instantly, a bottle of the blackest void comes rushing to his fingers, thick in texture and hardly sloshing around inside its container. Faintly, you swear you can hear hissing coming from his hand.
“There is no toxin more deadly than my own creations.” He tells you. “This one, though, is the worst.”
“Are you immune?” You glance up at him, a curious glint in your eyes.
“I’m immune to every poison you can imagine, and then some.” He hums, that grin still tugging at his features as he hands you the bottle of that thick black liquid. “But I always have antidotes close at hand.”
He motions around him to the small vials resting beside the bottles.
“We’re not as immune as he is to some of his creations.” Jongho grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.
“But most of them, you are?” You spare a glance at the rest of them standing over by the door.
“That would be correct, My Love.” Hongjoong nods. “His most deadly, he’s made sure we’re immune to.”
“It’s considerate, considering the amount of times he’s used us as guinea pigs for new concoctions.” San grumbles, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Wooyoung.
You turn your head back to the aforementioned male who seemingly shrinks slightly in his spot.
“You guys volunteer.” He mumbles.
“Yeah,” Yunho rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s cause we never actually know what we’re signing up for.”
“It’s not my fault you all have different side effects than what I intend sometimes!” Wooyoung counters, a large pout pulling at his features. “It’s not like it’s intentional.”
“Sometimes, I feel like it is.” Yeosang states, rather pointedly.
“I don’t know,” you hum. “Isn’t the point of vaccines to inject some of the original virus or disease into your body so you know how to fight off the living cells, were they to enter your system?”
“See. At least My Angel understands my methods!” Wooyoung perks back up, tightening the hold of his one arm that rests around your waist. “There’s a whole process! You can’t just be immune. It’s not in your blood!”
“And it’s in yours?” San’s brow quirks knowingly.
“Actually, yes. It is.” Wooyoung states, rather proudly. “Most of my poisons contain some aspect of my blood in them, whether diluted or pure. That’s why they can be so toxic.”
“That’s really cool!” You chime in, having way too much fun watching the thick liquid slide around in the bottle every time you tip it upside down.
“So, there!” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out playfully at his brothers.
“Are there any kinds of toxins you’ve made that have a different effect than just poisoning the victim?” You turn your attention back to Wooyoung. “You know, like paralysis, or something?”
“Do I ever!” Wooyoung practically bounces on his feet as he leads you to the opposite wall. “This one-“ he points to a bright pink liquid, “is similar to a sleeping drought, but too much will cause the heart to stop for any living thing.”
You nod, staring intently at the bottle in front of you.
“This one-“ he points to an almost transparent green liquid, “causes your muscles to seize and inflicts unbearable pain throughout the body. Great for immobilizing people, but not quite paralysis in it’s literal sense.”
“Oh, wow.” You observe said liquid carefully.
“I also have certain tonics that effect emotions, a person’s state of mind or being, as well as ones that can essentially put people into either a comatose state, or loosen their tongue if we need a ‘physical’ way to gather information for assassinations.” He explains.
“So, you have truth telling serums?” Your brow quirks, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.
“I have any and every type of tonic you can think of.” Wooyoung nods, quite proudly at that.
You nod, eyes never leaving that shelf in front of you.
“So, then,” you begin. “Which is a stronger aphrodisiac? Your blood, or one of your tonics?”
The sound of shattering glass sounds behind you, and you turn to see Seonghwa and Mingi both cursing to themselves. Bottles, or what’s left of them, lay broken at their feet, the sound of hissing greeting your ears as liquid seeps over the ground.
“Careful with those,” Wooyoung waves his hand, cleaning the mess in an instant. “Some mixtures are deadly, even to us, if cross contaminated with each other.”
“We’ll just make sure to knock into the non-fragile glass bottles, next time.” Seonghwa grumbles, wiping off the front of his shirt rather harshly.
“Glass bottles are the most effective containers for acidic poisons, especially if reinforced by magic.” Wooyoung states, matter of factly.
“But they can still shatter on impact with the floor.” Jongho quirks a brow, matter of factly.
“You win some, you lose some.” Wooyoung shrugs, before turning his attention back to you for the moment. “To answer your question, Angel, it would be this one right here.” A bottle with a liquid as clear as day is instantly in his one hand. “This is the strongest aphrodisiac we own, besides our blood.”
“Oh?” Your lips twitch upwards in the corner, brow quirking. “So, they’re on par with one another, then?”
“Not quite,” Wooyoung’s eyes begin to swirl with that all too familiar darkness. “This is just a little stronger, since it’s undiluted in that sense.”
You hum, “Interesting.”
“Why?” San’s voice, low and gravelly reaches your ears as his hooded gaze meets your own. “Want to give it a try?”
All eight sets of eyes are on you in an instant, darkness swirling within.
You smirk, “Perhaps some other time.”
Eight low growls reach your ears as you walk back over to the door. You can feel the weight of their heated stares on you, even as you glance towards them from over your shoulder.
“Shall we?” You drawl out, a teasing flick to your brows.
Yunho seems to be the first to recompose himself, quickly moving over to you and placing his hand onto the skin of your upper back. Gently, he guides you through the door, clearing his throat all the while.
“I don’t tend to use many weapons, so my storehouse is a bit of the miscellaneous designs we keep for the occasional use.” He explains. “I do tend to like shredding things, whether physical, or mental, though.”
Again, your eyes light up as you take in the various unconventional designs around you. You can tell they’ve experimented with multiple angles and materials, each weapon given certain liberties over the rest. Everything from large hammers to thin whips with metal spikes attached to them line the walls, allowing you to see the various techniques they all know how to use in battle depending on the weapon.
Serrated blades, tools, saws, and even some scythes and rifles also line the walls.
Your brow quirks at the cage of guns off to the side.
“For our assassinations, mainly.” Yunho is quick to tell you, to which you’re immediately nodding your head in understanding.
“Who’s the best sniper?” You turn to them, looking over each male individually.
“Seonghwa and Hongjoong are amazing.” Wooyoung immediately boasts, a proud smile tugging at his lips.
“Really, we’ve got nothing on Mingi, though.” Hongjoong says, averting his gaze somewhat bashfully as red creeps up his neck.
At Seonghwa’s nod in agreement, you turn to the aforementioned male. Lightly, a grin pulls at the corner of your lips.
You let Mingi in.
I always knew you were way cooler than James Bond. You meet his gaze with an affectionate look of your own. Definitely proves it.
Mingi giggles, brushing tenderly against your mind with his own as his eyes crinkle at the sides.
You turn back to the main wall of weapons. “You all contribute to this stockade, or is it more trial and error?”
“A little bit of both.” San says, the others nodding in agreement. “Sometimes we even get certain materials from our friends that we play around with when creating weapons.”
At this, your brow quirks.
“Well, sometimes we aren’t simply given things.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Like when Jongho used the teeth from the snakes of the last gorgon leader to make a tiny mace.”
Jongho simply glares at Wooyoung in response.
“Not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.” You reply, nonchalantly. “Do you guys have any transforming weapons?”
“Mingi made the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.” Seonghwa comments casually.
Your jaw drops. “You did not.”
The second Mingi sticks his hand out, a weapon flies off of the wall. Sure enough, holding it out to you reveals it to be a life-size replica of the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.
“Holy shit.” There is no hiding the awe in your eyes as he passes it to you, you giggling like a maniac soon after.
“If I recall, Mingi’s made a lot of replicas of From Soft weapons.” Yeosang adds, humming lightly to himself.
“You have?” That awe filled gaze of yours is back on Mingi, who’s neck begins to turn bright red as he nods. “That’s incredible!”
He lifts a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”
“Moonlight, I wish you wouldn’t downplay your skills sometimes.” You comment, patting his arm affectionately. Then, you’re practically bouncing on your feet as the Beastcutter is returned to its original spot. “Now, show me, show me, show me!”
Mingi chuckles lowly, “Of course, Starlight.” He leads you back to the door, his arm gently finding purchase around your waist. “Right this way.”
Carefully, Mingi guides you through the door and into his own storehouse of weapons, his brothers following closely behind. The sound of the door shutting is synonymous with your gasp, your eyes practically shining as you take in the sets of weapons lining the walls, mainly consisting of dual blades.
At one particular set that is bright red, the edges of the blades artfully chipped, a dramatic gasp escapes you.
“No way!” You point at the blades, scurrying over to them while hopping around on your feet. “You made the Rivers of Blood from Elden Ring into a two sword set?”
“I had to compromise a bit on length, but the design is the same.” He shrugs, plucking them off of the wall and giving them each a spin in his hands.
You practically swoon as a result. “Somebody pinch me, I’m in heaven.”
Low chuckles resound around the room, each male loving how your excitement never seems to cease for even one moment. The fact that Mingi continues to captivate you currently by performing small tricks with the blades has them beaming. Though, a few, such as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa, all wish it were them that were impressing you in such a way instead.
Again, Mingi chuckles, placing the Rivers of Blood back in their spot before pulling two other katanas off of the wall. They also seem familiar to you, though you can’t seem to figure out why.
“I dubbed these ones my Deadpool set.” Mingi explains with a grin, giving them each a spin in his hands.
“I was wondering why they looked so familiar,” You hum, nodding slightly. “If you pull out the Blades of Chaos next, I might need to sit down.”
The grin Mingi wears is nothing short of gleeful as he replaces the katanas on the wall. In a blink, he holds out his hands, chains wrapping around his forearms before a dual set of particularly carved blades appear held in his grip.
You physically feel your legs give out beneath you, a hand coming up to press against your forehead as you fall backwards.
Luckily, Yunho appears just in time to catch you.
“I’m dreaming.” You mutter lowly, nothing but awe in your voice. “This is a dream, and I’m in heaven.”
More fond chuckles greet your ears.
“It’s a shame the blades are more for show than anything,” Mingi somewhat pouts. “Still worth seeing every one of your reactions, though, Starlight.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard something about them being impractical in real life cause of the chains or something.” You manage to right yourself on your feet, affectionately patting Yunho’s hands which he keeps wrapped around your waist. “The blades could still be effective on their own, though. Can they not?”
The grin that stretches across Mingi’s face says it all.
“Now, if you go around bathing them in fire as you use them, I might faint for real.” You comment casually.
His eyebrow quirks, “Promise?”
“You want me to faint?” You snort out a laugh.
“If it’s from something cool that I’ve done,” Mingi shrugs, storing the blades back in their place. “Why not?”
“Touché.” You hum, sparing another glance around the room. Your eyes catch briefly on a set of blades, curved to resemble human spines. You smile. “Seriously guys, this is incredible.”
“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, nothing but tender fondness reflected in his eyes.
“Like I said, this is one of the best days of my life.” You breathe out. “I’ve always had a fascination with different types of weapons since I was small. It’s nice not having to hide my excitement about them anymore. Especially about ones that I long since thought could only be used in fictional settings, or for cosplay.”
“Hearing you rant and rave about certain styles of weapons when we watch those…” Jongho grimaces slightly, irritation shining briefly on his features, “Let’s Players, sticks with us, you know.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Jacksepticeye, Baby Bear.” You quirk a brow.
At the few grumbles you hear, you begin to laugh.
“You seem to be overtly fond of him.” Hongjoong mutters lowly.
You shrug. “He’s funny.”
Low growls sound from Yeosang, Mingi, San, and Seonghwa.
“Again, just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I don’t.” You remind them.
“That’s the problem, Angel.” Wooyoung mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The fact I find him entertaining?” You quirk a brow, noticing how they remain quiet for the most part. “Wait, is this why you all started playing God of War and Bloodborne? So, I wouldn’t watch his play-throughs anymore?”
“No.” Jongho answers, much too quickly.
“We also needed to get better insight of the weapons when making them.” Mingi says, matter of factly.
A smack is given to the elder male from the youngest as you stare at them knowingly. Then, your eyes seemingly glaze over, deep in thought.
“You said you make weapons out of materials sometimes gifted to you from others, right?” Your brow is furrowed as you step out of Yunho’s embrace, much to the male’s discontent.
“That’s correct.” Yeosang confirms.
You hum to yourself, beginning to pace back and forth as your mind reels.
“How strong are dragon teeth?” You pause, lifting your head to spare a glance at all of them.
Understanding flashes behind their eyes.
“They are extremely durable and versatile, My Divine.” Seonghwa replies, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Some of the strongest bones in all the realms. Other than their horns, of course.”
“And baby dragon’s teeth?” You quirk a brow.
“Not as durable, but strong all the same.” Yunho confirms.
Again, you hum, shifting to face Hongjoong. “Can I see Mon’s teeth for a moment?”
By the time you’ve extended your hands, Hongjoong has that green cloth placed upon your palms. You turn just in time to see a wooden table appear beside you, the guys all moving in to stand around it as you work.
Carefully, you unwrap the package that is Mon’s baby teeth. Once you have that cloth covering the main portion of the table, you begin arranging them in a particular pattern. Slowly, a triangle begins to form, Mon’s teeth outlining the shape.
“Our conversation just now gave me an idea,” you begin, righting yourself so you’re no longer hunched over the table. “A bit literal for serrated teeth, but I think it works well.”
A gentle hand is placed onto your lower spine curtesy of Mingi. Sparing a glance at him reveals his lips to be tugging upwards into a proud smile.
“I don’t know how the logistics will work, but if you can make the Beastcutter, then I’m sure you can make a Saw Spear,” You meet Mingi’s gaze. “No?”
A pride swirls behind his gaze, his chest puffing out the slightest bit. “I think that can be arranged.”
The smile that takes over your features lights up the entire room, excitement pouring off of you in waves. “Really?”
“Most definitely.” San confirms with a nod. “We can all help with this one.”
“You’d all really do this for me?” You spare a glance at all of them, noticing how tenderly they look at you.
“Of course!” Wooyoung confirms eagerly. “It’s not every day Our Queen asks us to make her her own weapon.”
You share an excited giggle.
“Listen, I want to be able to have something to call my own,” you grin. “Preferably not just a bat. I’m not sure how intimidating our enemies will find me only wielding a weapon like that.”
“Believe me, Baby,” San chuckles. “You’re plenty intimidating with a bat.”
“So I’ve heard.” You smile slyly.
“We could make you a personalized bat, too, Dearest.” Yeosang offers. “Anything and everything your heart desires, know that it’s yours.”
Lifting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes crinkle as your smile morphs into a loving one. 
“How about we start with this for now?” You say softly. “I’m sure I’ll think of more when the time comes. Believe me when I say there’s no shortages of weapon’s designs in my mind. But for now, there’s still two more main storehouses to see, and I’d also love to see a forge if there’s time. I am getting hungry.”
“Well then,” Yunho nods, noticing how his brothers all wear the same look of affection spreading across his face in this moment. “What are we waiting for?”
Leaving Mon’s teeth laid out on the table at their request, you walk back over to the door. This time, it’s Hongjoong that opens it, stepping through to hold it as you follow shortly behind.
If you’re being honest with yourself, his and Seonghwa’s rooms are the ones you’re most anticipating. Long since have you fantasized about what their own blades will look like, and now, you find your whole body shaking with excitement as you step through the threshold.
The instant you see the wall of daggers before you, a loud gasp escapes you. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, eyes flitting all over the weapons on display before you. Everything from ceremonial daggers, to jewelled blades rest before you in an array of designs. There even seems to be a small display case in front of the main wall with a dagger inside, resting upon a cushion. It looks familiar to you, and as you get closer, you realize why.
There seems to be a blade missing from the set, but you say nothing. Still, you cannot help but to zero in on that cushion, noting the slight indent where the second dagger should reside.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Hongjoong stiffen, but you opt to say nothing for now.
Sets of throwing knives line the one wall, some collections housing upwards of twenty blades. You take the time to observe everything, walking slowly around the room and taking it all in. Each blade manages to take your breath away, your heart racing erratically in your chest as excitement courses through your veins.
Hongjoong, you notice, still remains unusually quiet. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks nervous, especially when you glance towards that display case in front of the main wall every now and again.
Turning to the others, you smile lightly, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”
A few quirked brows are sent your way in response, but they comply, nonetheless.
“We’ll meet you in your storeroom, okay, Mars?” You catch his gaze, noticing how he nods in understanding as soon as the words escape you.
Slowly, you watch as they all step through the door, and only once you see it fall shut, the small click resounding throughout the room, do you turn back to face Hongjoong.
There’s an almost reserved look in his eyes as he avoids your gaze. Slowly, he shifts from foot to foot, his hands clasped in front of himself.
Your expression falls.
Silently, you approach him, gently lifting his hands into your own.
“What’s wrong, My Love?” Your inquiry is soft, giving his hands a small squeeze in order to coax him to meet your eyes.
He’s unusually silent as he shakes his head, staring intently at your intertwined hands.
Normally, this room is a huge sense of pride for him. However, as soon as he saw you glance the display case with only the one dagger inside, his heart plummeted. Selfishly, he kept it there in its spot because he could not bring himself to get rid of it. Now though, he fears he made the wrong call, for that pillar acts as a stark reminder of every misdeed he’s ever performed. That case stands almost mockingly; a tombstone that could have been yours.
“Hongjoong,” Worry pulls at your brow as you lift a hand up to guide his gaze to yours. Tenderly, your thumb brushes against his cheek. “You’re unusually quiet right now, and I’m extremely concerned. I thought you’d be ecstatic to show me your collection today.”
He purses his lips, and you can see a hint of fear flash behind his eyes.
“Is this about the set of daggers in that case?” Your tone is nothing but gentle.
The way he stiffens beneath your touch says it all.
The way that you can tell that this is affecting him negatively has your heart squeezing painfully in your chest. It’s clear to you that Miyeon still has her claws buried deep within his guilt, and all you want to do is reassure him as best you can in this moment. Only, you’re not quite sure how.
“They were-“ he clears his throat of the roughness that resides in his voice, “They were meant to be ours.”
Your gaze shifts to the small display case where that lone blade sits.
“The daggers,” You breathe.
He nods. “I made them for us.”
You squeeze his one hand once more, gently guiding him over to the display case so you can get a closer look.
Still, he refuses to so much as glance at that singular dagger.
“I wanted that one to be yours, and the other to be mine, but she-“ his voice hitches, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t think I could ever look at my dagger the same way again. Not after what she did to you with it. Yet, I can’t bring myself to destroy the set. It held so much meaning to me when I made them, that I just-”
He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead, his shoulders droop and he turns the slightest bit away from you.
Shame weighs heavy on his shoulders, regret adding its toll.
You take a moment to observe the dagger in the case. It’s certainly familiar, but you notice slight discrepancies to the one you’ve already seen. This dagger’s blade is slightly thinner, the handle carved in the opposite direction to its matching pair. You can tell that they’re meant to be put together. A set, never to be separated.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” You turn to him, and your words finally draw a reaction from him. “Destroy them, I mean.”
“My Love?” There’s clear surprise on his features, not having expected you to say anything along those lines.
If Hongjoong is being honest with himself, he expected you to start cursing him out for not getting rid of the very weapon that caused you such harm. He was certain that you’d be screaming at him, asking him why he would keep such vile weapons around after what they did to you.
To say your tender look of affection shocks him would be a great understatement.
“You still have the other dagger, then?” You ask him softly, rubbing your thumb tenderly over the back of his hand.
Slowly, albeit hesitantly, he nods.
“May I see it?” The question is gentle in all meaning of the sense, making sure to keep your voice low as you look at him with kind eyes.
A moment’s hesitation before he nods. Then, he has the other dagger in his free hand, holding the handle out for you to take.
Meeting his gaze, you smile assuringly at him. Maintaining eye contact, you gently slip that dagger out of his hold, gripping it firmly in your one hand. Only then do you spare a glance down at one of the weapons that had caused you such pain all those long weeks ago.
Just as you thought, this one is slightly bigger, the blade both a little thicker and longer in length.
“This one was meant to be yours?” You lift your gaze to his, noticing how intently he watches you in this very moment.
He nods.
You let your intertwined hands fall to rest in the space between your bodies, letting them sway gently back and forth.
“Will you hold onto mine?” There’s nothing but a hopeful gleam to your eyes as you watch him nod.
Slowly, he unlocks the case. Once the glass is opened, he lifts your dagger out with the utmost of care, holding it delicately in his hand. The way that he’s standing perfectly mirrors you in every way, and you cannot help the small upturn of your lips at that fact.
“Hongjoong, I wish to keep these daggers together,” you begin. At the way you see his lips part in protest, you’re quick to continue, “She was the one who used it to hurt me, not you. I know for a fact that you would rather carve out your own heart than bring me any harm. Your dagger didn’t hurt me. She did.”
The hitch in his breath is audible, even to you.
“I know you may not have intended it this way, but I wish to keep this one as my own.” You lift the dagger in your hand slightly. “And I wish for you to use that one. Let me reclaim the weapon that was used to hurt me, and know that it is meant to symbolize your undying loyalty and protection. Let me wield you in battle, just as you will wield me when the time comes.”
The way your eyes flash over to that dagger held in his hand as you speak those words says it all.
“These daggers are for us, meant to protect each other.” You state, rather firmly. “I think it’s time we allow them the proper use. Don’t you?”
He swallows thickly, his lips parting as tears line his eyes. He squeezes your hand.
“Yes,” he breathes, nodding his head once quite firmly. He blinks, and the first of his tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “Yes, My Queen. Always.”
Softly, you smile at him, guiding him into your embrace as he buries his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his sobs wracking his body as he holds onto you tightly, clinging to you both for dear life, but also in gratitude for what this moment means to the both of you. No longer will you allow Miyeon to control either of you. It’s time to reclaim that which has been stolen. All of it.
Pulling away from him slightly, you stare deeply into his eyes. The corners of your lips tug upwards in a loving smile, and you manage to brush some stray hairs out of his eyes.
“I am so deeply in love with you, My King.” There is no waver in your voice as you say this, pouring every ounce of sincerity that you can into your words. “Know that nothing will ever change that.”
“My Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips as he pulls you tighter against him. “Thank you, for believing in me.”
The smile you offer him says it all, nothing but tender love and affection shining within your gaze as you lean forward to kiss him gently. A kiss which he is all too eager to reciprocate, letting the movement of his lips over your own tell you of all the ways in which he loves you. The ways in which he will always love you, and appreciate all that you mean to him.
All too soon, you’re pulling away in order to rest your forehead on his.
“The daggers are beautiful, My Love,” Your words are but a soft caress against his lips. “Thank you for keeping them as one.”
Hongjoong manages a small smile in response. “I am simply happy you like them, My Queen.”
“I love them, Joongie.” Your reply is immediate, pulling the slightest bit back from him to admire the detailing on the handles once more. “It means a lot to me that you made them for us.”
“Of course, My Love,” Gently, he returns them both to their spots on top of the cushion inside the display. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. In a soft voice, he admits, “I made them the day I knew I wanted you to become Our Queen.” He turns to you, eyes holding nothing but love for you swirling within that familiar darkness. “My Queen.”
Your expression softens, “All the more reason to keep them, and use them as you’ve always intended.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He chuckles lowly, offering you his hand as he steps in beside you.
Without any hesitation, you place your hand in his.
“I am curious, though,” you hum. “Did you keep the other one? The jewelled one from David’s shop?”
A blink, and that familiar dagger is in his free hand.
Your eyes go wide, a thrum of excitement going through you.
“I think it’s time it was given back to the woman who always deserved it,” He grins, a knowing glint in his eyes as he holds out the handle for you to take. “Don’t you?”
Eagerly, you nod your head, reaching out to take that dagger into your free hand.
You take a moment to look it over, twirling that blade in your grip lightly. A small smile rests on your features, eyes sparkling as you finally grasp the handle firmly in your hand.
Little do you see how fondly Hongjoong watches over you in this very moment. Though, from the way you lift your head to meet his gaze, you manage to catch the very look resting on his features.
“Thank you, Joongie,” You lean in to place an affectionate kiss upon his cheek. “This truly means a lot to me.”
“Your happiness means the world to me, My Love.” Hongjoong smiles, giving your one hand still held in his a small squeeze. “I’m simply glad you can finally have everything you’ve always desired.”
“It’s because of you, you know.” You turn to face him just as you reach the door. “I’ve only been able to achieve this because of you. Because of all of you.”
Hongjoong’s heart warms, and he leans in to place a lingering kiss upon your forehead. “Then, how wonderful it will be to spend the rest of eternity with one another.”
Your own heart swells with nothing but happiness, “How wonderful indeed.”
With a final squeeze of your intwined hands, you exit the room.
The moment you step into Seonghwa’s own weapon’s hold, you’re greeted by chaos. Both him and Mingi appear to be sparring with some of his swords, while Yeosang chases both San and Wooyoung around with a sword of his own. Yunho stands off to the side with Jongho, both males shaking their heads with their arms crossed over their chests.
“Did I miss something?” You quirk a brow playfully, successfully drawing their attention to both you and Hongjoong standing just inside the threshold of the door.
“Wooyoung and San were being smartasses, as usual.” Jongho shakes his head once more.
“Hey!” Said males whine at the same time.
“Then, why was Yeosang chasing you with- oh my god, is that Major General Armstrong’s sword?” You practically shove Wooyoung out of the way to take the sword from Yeosang’s grip. 
Unfortunately, you fail to miss the large pout that now pulls onto Hongjoong’s features as you essentially leave him in the dust in order to observe this new sword. Nor do you see the pout that Wooyoung wears as he looks to you with large, pleading eyes.
With your dagger held in your one hand, and the sword in the other, you take in the detailing of the metal. The floral design engraved on the length of the blade takes your breath away, and you begin shaking in excitement once more.
Then, you’re nodding to yourself almost subconsciously, “Very beautiful. Very powerful.”
“I’m glad you like it, My Divine.” Seonghwa chuckles affectionately, coming to stand beside you as the others return to their respective spots near the door. “Come, there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Lifting your gaze, Seonghwa cannot deny the hitch in his breath as he sees your wondrous expression light up your features. The awe alone he can see says it all.
He swallows thickly.
Handing him the sword back, you finally take in the other blades residing on the surrounding walls.
“No way you have a wall full of just katanas- are those Zoro’s?” Another squeal leaves you as you rush over, gazing intently at the multiple swords lined up in a row.
Sure enough, upon closer inspection, the katanas in front of you correspond to the multiple ones Zoro has used throughout the course of One Piece.
“Seriously, I’m in heaven.” You sigh, dreamily.
Low chuckles sound from behind you, and you can feel all of their fond gaze on you as you dart around the room.
“No way!” A dramatic gasp escapes you as a particular blade catches your eye from across the room. “You made Sting?”
Just as you did with Yeosang’s bow in the first room, you go to reach out for it. Only, you hesitate, not sure if you should actually touch these weapons or not.
“Go ahead, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles, stepping in right beside you and placing a loving hand onto the skin of your lower back. “Please, don’t hold back.”
Practically shoving the dagger in your hands in his direction, you silently tell him to hold onto the jewelled blade while you lift Sting carefully off its display. Nothing but wonder resides in your gaze as you take in the detail work of the craftsmanship. The blade is unusually light, too, just as described in the book.
“If you tell me that this blade can also glow blue, I can and will faint right now.” You lift your gaze to his own, excitement pouring off of you in waves.
A soft chuckle falls from Seonghwa’s lips, “We’ll have to go visit some orcs, then.”
Your lips part, eyes widening as you visibly begin to shake. Not even a moment later, you’re zooming around the room, muttering to yourself about this being the best day of your life once more.
Hopping around the storehouse, you take in the rest of the swords lining the walls. You cannot keep the smile off of your face, almost subconsciously muttering a tune to yourself as you browse the selection of weapons before you.
“Oh, the wonders of weapons,” you hum, no longer paying any mind to the eight other males in the room, of whom watch you fondly. “The wonders of weapons of Kings.” You giggle. “My Lovely Kings.” 
They smile.
“My lovers are eight powerful, demonic Kings.” Your voice is low, but they still hear you loud and clear. A fact of which sets their hearts racing inside of their chests. “And I’m their One and Only Queen.”
Eight low growls of approval sound from behind you. Sparingly, you glance over your shoulder, offering them each a blissful smile.
“Today is a most wonderful day.” You continue to hum to yourself, bouncing around on the soles of your feet from one spot to another. “Spending it with the people I love.”
Rumbles of content fill the room, and you bound over to the eight of them with a vibrant smile lighting up your face. You take the time to give each one of them a kiss on the cheek, muttering how much you love them each time you do. A sentiment which is immediately echoed by each male as soon as you address them individually.
Still, you cannot prevent yourself from rocking excitedly on your feet as you see the large, dopey grins they offer you in return.
“Thank you.” You take the time to meet all of their gazes. “For today. For everything.” Your heart swells in your chest. “You all seriously don’t know how happy you make me.”
“The feeling is very much mutual, Petal.” Yunho hums, the same warmth that is currently flooding his chest heard clearly in his voice as he addresses you.
“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang adds, clasping his hands almost lovingly in front of himself as he gazes at you fondly.
You nod, vigorously at that. “Can I see one of your forges, now?”
“Of course, My Divine.” Seonghwa extends his free hand out to you, your dagger still held tightly in his opposite hand.
“Oh, thanks for holding onto that for me, Mars.” You reach over, taking your dagger back from him as he walks you both over to the door. “I-“
Your words die in your throat as the door opens to reveal a grandiose space. There’s a large wooden table that lines the one wall, the forge worked into the opposite corner. A floor to ceiling window resides near the forge itself, displaying a beautiful field with mountains in the distance. Hardly any clouds line the sky, the sun shining and illuminating the space all around.
Various weapons line the room, stacked on top of each other or resting against the wall where various tools and materials hang. There even seems to be a closet off to the side, which you would bet anything houses even more weapons that are currently being worked on, or have even been finished.
“Wow,” You breathe out, nothing but wonder on your features as you take it all in.
Carefully, you place your dagger onto the top of the wooden table off to the side, spinning around a few times to take in the full room around you. Seonghwa, of course, gives you enough space to do so, watching you with such a tender look in his eyes.
“Do all of your workshops look the same?” You turn to face them.
“More, or less.” Jongho tilts his head slightly from side to side. “Some of our tools vary due to the types of weapons we forge, but the setup is pretty much identical.”
“That’s so cool!” You say, awe clear in your voice.
“If you peek through the window, you can actually see the outlines of all of our forges in the hills.” Yunho motions with his head for you to take a look.
Instantly, you’re at the window, eyes scanning the area to see multiple windows buried seemingly inside the hills just outside.
“Woah,” You turn back around to face them. “That must come in handy when you need to borrow things from each other while welding.”
“It is quite convenient.” Mingi nods in confirmation. “Especially if one of the others has a material you need while crafting.”
“I can imagine.” You hum, eyes flitting over the table and taking in all of the little trinkets scattered about.
There seems to be a whetting stone placed near the corner, some scraps of black leather cut into pieces along the top. Some tools rest here and there, but for the most part, the space is clean.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Hongjoong nudge Seonghwa with his elbow.
You quirk a brow.
Seonghwa clears his throat.,“Actually, I have two things I wish to give you, My Divine.”
“You do?” There’s nothing but wonder in your tone as you watch him move around his workspace.
For a brief moment, Seonghwa enters that little closet at the side of the room. When he comes back, both of his hands are held behind his back.
You blink, curiosity getting the better of you as you attempt to see what he could be hiding.
“This one, we all agreed on a long time ago.” He says, sharing a brief look around the room at his brothers who all smile softly at you in response. “I reinforced it, so it no longer has to be simply decorative. Unless you desire it to be.”
In one swift movement, Seonghwa pulls his right hand out from behind his back. A familiar silver sword rests there, jewels glinting in the light.
The gasp that escapes you is immediate as you see the matching sword to that dagger you had placed on his work table resting in his hand.
Ever so carefully, you reach forward, taking that sword from his grip as your eyes shine with nothing but love.
“My Kings?” You glance around at all of them, noticing how they all stare at you the exact same way you’re looking at them.
“Anything and everything your heart could ever desire, Angel,” Wooyoung whispers. “It’s yours.”
“I-“ you swallow thickly, admiring that sword now held in your hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles assuringly at you. “Know that we will always provide for you, in whatever ways that we can.”
“We love spoiling you, Baby,” San adds softly. “Knowing these are things that you’ve always wanted… well… it means a lot to us to see you happy; to make you happy.”
Your lips part, but no words escape you.
“Just let us take care of you.” Yeosang voices lowly, all seven of them nodding along to his words.
Again, you swallow the emotions building in your throat. Your grip tightens on that pommel in your hands, and you manage to blink away your building tears of joy.
“Thank you.” You take your time to meet each of their gazes. “I mean it. You all never fail to go above and beyond for me, and I will always cherish these moments, these gifts, more than you’ll ever know.”
Their smiles widen, hearts beating erratically in their chests.
“We’re just love seeing you happy, Starlight.” Mingi repeats San’s words from only moments ago, nothing but sincerity shining within all of their eyes.
“I still have one more sword to gift you, today, My Divine.” Suddenly, Seonghwa looks the slightest bit more nervous as he stands before you. “That is, if you’ll have it.”
“My Mars,” you hum, affection dripping from your gaze, “You could gift me a wooden sword, and I would cherish it until the end of time.”
Teasingly, Seonghwa’s eyes narrow as he spares a glance around the room. “Alright, who told?”
Almost instantly, Jongho starts whistling inconspicuously while San, Wooyoung, and Mingi all avoid Seonghwa’s gaze.
You giggle, and like every time before, it is music to every single one of their ears.
“It took me quite a few tries,” he begins, keeping his voice low and tone steady, “But I had to make sure it was perfect.”
In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa presents you with the other sword he had been holding behind his back this whole time. He rests it carefully over his palms, holding it out to you with loving eyes as he watches your every reaction carefully.
The sheath is easily recognizable to you, the leather strap wrapped meticulously around it just as it is when the sword gets presented in the movie. The handle is every bit as gorgeous as you remember, the black leather wrapping around the pommel perfectly placed as the worked silver glints in the light.
Without taking your eyes off of that sword, you pass the one currently in your hands to the closest person beside you. Easily, Mingi takes it from you as you step in closer to Seonghwa.
You swallow your building emotions.
With shaking hands, you reach out to grasp that sword. You take one small step back before you’re unsheathing it in one fluid movement, the etchings in the metal bringing tears to your eyes.
Before you, held in your very grip, is an exact replica of Andúril.
“You made this for me?” Your voice comes out small, your overwhelming emotions threatening to choke you out at any second.
Briefly, your gaze flits from the markings on the blade to Seonghwa’s face, noting how he nods softly.
The whole time, his gaze never leaves you for a moment. Never does he want to miss even a single second of the wondrous expression you wear on your face. The fact that he can hear your heart racing says it all.
“Seonghwa, I-“ Your grip tightens around the handle of the sword, meeting his gaze once more. “When?”
He shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the others remaining silent out of respect for the moment being shared between the both of you right now.
“I started that day we got back from the mall.” His honest reply nearly sends you to your knees.
Again, your eyes trail over every inch of that sword before you. Your heart swells with nothing but love, feeling as if it’s close to bursting as you take in every minuscule detail of the blade. You can tell that he put in a tremendous amount of effort into forging this weapon for you, and given its meaning to you in its entirety, you know that he spoke true when he said that he wanted to make it perfect.
For you. 
He made this for you.
Something within your eyes flash, and you’re quick to sheathe that sword. The whole time, you never break eye contact with the male across from you, and despite the pounding of your heart that you can hear in your ears, a sense of complete calm washes over you.
“You seven,” you don’t even spare them so much as a glance of acknowledgement. “Out. Now.”
Words of protest die on Wooyoung’s lips as he gets pushed out of the room by both Jongho and Yeosang. Of course, just before the door closes, Seonghwa does not fail to miss the wink Yunho sends his way.
The sound of the door clicking shut is synonymous with the movement of Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“You made this for me,” you begin lowly. “After hearing me say once that I have long since desired a replica of my own.”
He nods. Slowly.
“You didn’t hesitate for one moment to make this for me, did you?” Your inquiry is soft, despite the heated stare you wear.
He shakes his head.
You motion for him to come forward with your finger, backing yourself towards that wooden table as he begins stalking towards you. Not once does he break eye contact, obeying your every command without hesitation.
“Of all of the grandiose gesture you could make for me, this is the one that means the most.” You tell him honestly, your voice near breathless as you finally hit that table. Resting the sword against its side, you motion him closer. “There are no words to describe what this means to me; no gift more significant than that which you have just given.”
The moment he steps into you, your arms are around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Softly, your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck, and you notice how his suddenly hooded eyes continuously spare fleeting glances down to your lips. You smirk.
“A simple ‘thank you’ is not enough to convey what this means to me.” You whisper lowly, surprising him by flipping your positions so that he’s the one pressed against the table. “What you mean to me, Seonghwa.”
One of your hands sneaks down his torso, sending a shiver up his spine as he feels you caressing his side. Then, you pull him even closer, hoisting his thigh up so that his leg wraps around your waist.
“How about it, My King?” You hum, voice nothing but sultry as your lips barely ghost over the skin of his own. “Will you allow me to demonstrate my gratitude for you?”
“Yes,” The nod of his head is immediate as he all but whimpers out a response. “Please.”
The corner of your lips twitches faintly upwards before you’re closing the rest of the distance between your two bodies. The way you hold onto him, and he to you, is nothing short of desperate, kissing one another like you are the very air you both need to breathe.
Carefully, you help him sit on top of the table, allowing for him to fully wrap his legs around your waist. Unashamedly, his hands roam over your body, pulling you in closer as his fingers dance across your skin.
The moan he lets out as you take his bottom lip between your teeth sets your heart fluttering inside of your chest.
“You are incredible, Seonghwa,” you mumble out against the skin of his lips. “And so, unbelievably beautiful.”
He moans, legs tightening around your waist as his stomach twists pleasantly.
“Shouldn’t-“ he gasps as you begin trailing your lips over his jaw, soon moving to bite at the skin of his neck, “Shouldn’t I be telling you this.”
“Some other time,” you promise, placing a lingering kiss over his racing pulse. “Right now, I want to worship you.”
The shudder that wracks his entire body does not go unnoticed by you. The fact that you can physically feel his skin heating beneath your touch says it all.
“My Queen-“
“Shhh,” you’re quick to cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”
You pull away only the slightest bit to stare deeply into his eyes. Silently, you check in with him, brushing against that familiar blue string in your mind to make sure that he’s okay.
“Please,” he swallows. “Don’t stop.”
The tender smile that pulls at your lips says it all.
Instantly, you move back in to continue biting and sucking at his neck, your hands sneaking up his shirt and eliciting another moan from his lips. The desperate way he clings to you has a pleasant feeling building within your core, spreading outwards and warming your entire body.
To know that he wants you, that he needs you in this moment means the world to you. 
You wouldn’t have it any any other way.
Bringing your lips back to his, you swallow all of his sounds, enjoying every small whimper and moan he gives you. The way he gasps as your one hand slides up his thigh to pull him flush against you by his ass is like music to your ears.
“My Seonghwa,” you hum, slowly grinding your hips against his own.
A choked moan of your name slips passed his lips, “Yours.”
“That’s right, My Dove,” you nip lightly at his ear, feeling how he shudders once more in your hold. “You’re mine.”
“All yours,” he whimpers, burying his face into the side of your neck.
Slowly, you bring your one hand between your two bodies, beginning to palm his semi-hard cock over his jeans. The fact that he seems to desperately grind against your hand in time with your movements makes you smirk.
“My Beautiful Dove,” you hum, adding the slightest bit more pressure to your palm as you move over his clothed cock. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?”
Softly, he shakes his head against the skin of your shoulder.
“No?” The corner of your lips tug upwards in a small grin as you pull away to meet his wide eyes. “Then, I guess I’ll have to show you.”
Your lips are back on his in an instant, pulling him flush against you. Carefully, you begin to lean him back, hovering over him as you lay him down on that table. His hands cling desperately to your back, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck every time you move to bite your marks into his skin. Marks which you know he will wear proudly for as long as he can.
“My Divine,” the whimper that escapes him goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clench around nothing.
“My Beautiful Seonghwa,” you rest your forehead gently against his own. “As if you didn’t know that forging me Andúril would be considered the grandest romantic gesture you could ever make for me.”
His chest is heaving, hips desperately seeking your own. Only, you pin him to that table, retracting your hand from over his cock and eliciting the sweetest of whines from his throat.
“As if you wouldn’t have known that I would immediately have to satisfy My King as a reward for always taking such good care of His Queen.” You continue, reaching out slightly to the side to grasp a particular object in your hand. Once you feel that cool metal of the dagger against your palm, you smirk. “Since My King has shown me nothing but a loving patience and dedication to his craft, I shall show him the same.”
Again, you lean over him, pecking his lips tenderly.
“I wish to take my time savouring you right now, Seonghwa,” you tell him gently. “As long as you’ll let me.”
At the vigorous nod of his head, along with the breathless ‘yes’ that falls from his lips, you have your answer.
You smile, eyes crinkling at the sides as your heart warms.
Slowly, carefully, you bring that dagger up his body. Gently, you tug his shirt forward, the tip of the blade kissing the material. Cautiously, you hook the blade beneath the neckline of his shirt, watching him carefully for any signs of discomfort.
You find none.
The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears, the dagger getting tossed beside you on that table as you help him sit up once more. His lips are on yours as you strip Seonghwa of his now cut shirt, the planes of his chest on full display. The way he shivers beneath your touch as your hands roam down his bare chest has you smiling into the kiss.
Without wasting another moment, you part from him only to begin trailing your lips down his chest. You take your time, biting and sucking marks into his skin as your hands grip his waist firmly. The fact that Seonghwa arches into your touch, eyes fluttering as he feels your tongue come out to lave over his burning skin says it all.
Another moan of your name slips passed his lips.
“That’s it, My Dove,” you coo, sliding him the slightest bit forward, and back onto the edge of the table. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
Slowly, you begin to sink to your knees, allowing your fingers to trail over his thighs as you do so.
Seonghwa’s head is spinning, and with each breath, his chest heaves. He can hardly believe that this is happening right now, his hands desperately gripping at the side of his work table for dear life. The image alone of you on top of him like that, and now, with you resting on your knees between his legs, is making his cock ache for your touch once more. He needs you, and he’s sure to tell you that.
The smirk that pulls at your lips is nothing short of devious, “Patience, My Dove. I told you that I wish to take my time with you right now.”
A small whimper escapes him.
“You’re not the only one who wants my lips wrapped around you cock right now, Seonghwa.” Your eyes flash dangerously as you look up at him through your lashes. “Be patient, and I will reward you, My King.”
Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat, whole body stilling as your words settle over him. He can feel his cock throbbing, becoming almost painful the longer he goes with you no longer touching him.
The second you begin to undo his belt, his thighs begin to shake.
Soothingly, you rub your hands over his upper thighs, staring up at him with wide eyes. As you meet his gaze, your hands still, finger sinking into the material of his jeans as his lips part with another moan.
“Look at you,” you hum, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ve barely even done anything to you yet, and you’re ready to fall apart.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t come yet from your touches alone,” he admits lowly, voice a little rough as he clears his throat.
Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh?”
“My Divine, the feeling of your hands on me is one of the greatest sensations I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” He breathes, thighs tensing as you begin to undo the zipper of his jeans. “You already know how little self-control I seem to have around you.”
Slowly, you begin to slide the material of his jeans down his thighs as you chuckle once more. A moment later, you help him step out of them, tossing both his jeans and his boxers off to the side.
“That, I do know,” you smile knowingly. “And yet, you’re being such a good boy for me.”
His cock visibly twitches from your words, and you smirk.
“Oh?” Your brow quirks, a devious look shining behind your eyes as you look up at him. “You like it when I call you My Good Boy, don’t you.”
His grip tightens on the edges of the table, and you wonder at how the wood hasn’t cracked beneath the pressure yet.
“Yes,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. “Fuck- I love it, My Queen.”
The giggle you let out is music to his ears.
You meet his gaze through your lashes once more, “Good boy.”
Again, his cock visibly twitches from your words. You can see how desperately he restrains himself from reaching out to you right now, his hands tense as he grips the table for dear life.
Teasingly, you trail your hands back up his thighs. Only, when you get close to his hips, you stop, dragging them back down and ensuring your nails scratch lightly over his skin.
He shudders.
The whole time you rest before him, Seonghwa keeps his gaze locked on you. Not once does he allow his eyes to fall shut, and he swears to himself that he’ll do whatever he can to engrain this memory in his mind for as long as possible. He’ll be damned if he misses even one second of you pleasing him, for you appear just as eager as he does in this moment.
He wouldn’t want it any other way.
Trailing your hands back up his thighs, you give them both another appreciative squeeze. Then, finally, you lean into him, bringing your lips to the skin of his inner thigh as your one hand wraps delicately around his cock.
The moment your fingers close around him, he moans. His lips remain parted, breaths coming in uneven pants as he feels you gently nipping at the skin of his inner thigh. The way your hand begins to move over him has his whole body twitching beneath your touch.
The closer your lips get to his aching cock, the harder it becomes for him to control himself. Desperately, Seonghwa clings onto whatever shreds of his sanity that he has left, taking in the beautiful sight that is you, on your knees, pleasing him right now.
Just when he thinks you’ll free him from your teasing licks and kisses on his one thigh, you move to the other, repeating the same actions over his skin almost lovingly.
At one particularly firm bite against his thigh, his stomach clenches. He can feel himself twitch in your hand, a low groan escaping him as he leans further back on the table for support.
You chuckle, looking up at him innocently from between his spread legs.
“My King?” 
He hums, almost absentmindedly.
“One more thing,” A devious gleam is shining behind your eyes. One which his blissed out state manages to ignore for the moment.
“Anything, My Queen.” He breathes out, breath hitching in his throat as he sees you lick your lips.
“Hands to yourself until I say so.”
As soon as those words escape you, your lips are around him. Gently, you suckle on the tip, tongue flicking over his slit a few times as you maintain eye contact with him.
A choked moan escapes him, his right hand automatically reaching out to you. Only, he catches himself, fingers twitching in midair right by your head. Slowly, reluctantly, he retracts his hand, gripping onto that table desperately for support.
The chuckle you let out reverberates along his cock, sending pleasant shivers up his spine and causing his stomach to clench. The way your tongue feels, beginning to swirl around his head as you take more of him into your mouth is making his head spin. Never before has Seonghwa been this hard in his life, and the fact that it’s all because of you is only adding to the intensity of the pleasure that he’s currently feeling.
Low, guttural groans escape him as he watches you sink further down on his cock. Languidly, your tongue strokes along his shaft, pleasant hums escaping you as you watch his every reaction carefully. The fact that his whole body trembles, fingers digging into the wood of the table has you chuckling lowly once more.
Slowly, you begin bobbing your head. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you use your one hand to stroke over, squeezing at his base a few times as you hollow your cheeks over him.
Seonghwa nearly collapses right then and there. As much as he tries, he cannot prevent the way his eyes flutter closed, tossing his head back as a moan of your name slips passed his lips.
“Just like that, My Divine,” he smiles, blinking his vision open once more to see the glorious sight that is you, on your knees before him, with his cock in your mouth. A low growl escapes him, eyes flashing black. “Fuck- just like that.”
Desperately, he does whatever he can to keep his hips from bucking further into your mouth. The wet heat of your mouth is overwhelming, nothing but pure pleasure coursing through his veins as he feels you suckling at the tip of his cock once more.
Pulling away from him for just a moment, you let your hand pump over his length a few times. Again, you lick your lips, gaze darting up to meet his own as you move in closer.
Another growl escapes him as he watches you suck one of his balls into your mouth. His whole body shudders as you slowly let it pop back out of your mouth only for you to begin placing wet, open mouthed kisses up along the bottom of his shaft. The way your tongue comes out to trace along the path shortly afterwards has him twitching in your hand.
“Oh, fuck-“ His breath catches in his throat, eyes bleeding black once more. “Again. Please, do that again.”
The way your lips are currently pressed against his cock lets Seonghwa feel every inch of the smile that pulls at your features. To his utmost pleasure, you’re almost instantly repeating your actions, taking even more time to caress your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing over a prominent vein.
“My Divine, please-“ he chokes out, every breath escaping him now but a mere whimper on his lips.
You spare a glance upwards and into his eyes as you tighten your hold around the base of his cock.
“I love you, My Seonghwa.”
Your lips are around him as soon as the words finish escaping you, moving over him with a newfound vigour. You barely even begin to lave your tongue over his cock when you feel him twitching within your mouth, the sound of shattering wood greeting your ears.
Whimpers and whines escape him, along with desperate cries of your name as his orgasm washes over him. His body hunches the slightest bit forward, releasing down your throat as you help to ride him through his high.
Every last drop he offers you, you swallow, humming contently around him as you lick him clean.
Your name falls like a mantra from his lips, whole body shaking as he leans against the table for support. Two chunks seem to have been torn from the wood where his hands had been gripping the table so firmly, the shattered remains littering the ground around you.
Slowly, you release him from your mouth, hearing as another guttural groan escapes him as you do so. When you spare a glance up, you notice his chest heaving, his lips parted as he stares down at you with nothing but love and pure, unfiltered awe in his gaze.
Tenderly, your hands come up to stroke over his thighs. “Good?”
“Good?” He smiles, voice deep and rough. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m great. Never been better, in fact.”
You giggle, standing carefully back to your feet with a little help from him. His one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, kissing you deeply as he flips your positions so that he can push you back against his worktable now.
“Seonghwa,” you giggle against his lips. “What are you doing?”
“Returning the favour,” he growls lowly, pressing you a bit firmer into the wood behind you.
Softly, your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the back of his neck. “Some other time, yeah?”
A whine of protest escapes him, pulling away from you to look into your eyes with round, pleading ones of his own.
“Later. I promise.” You bring your hands around to cup his face tenderly in your palms. “For now, let’s go get something to eat.”
The playful quirk of his brow informs you of what it is, exactly, that he intends to eat.
“Next time.” You say, a little more firmly.
He pouts, but listens nonetheless as he begins to pull his pants back on.
“Come on, Mars.” You smile lovingly at him, grabbing his hand in yours after he’s finished putting on his belt. 
You lick your lips, taking the time to admire him for the nth time this day as he stands before you.
“My Divine, if you keep staring at me like that…” He lets his words trail off, but the darkness you see swirling behind his eyes says it all.
“What?” You chuckle, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “I said I was hungry.”
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the-moon-files · 2 months
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Aaaaa yay, you updated for Linked Universe again! 🙏 And right when the hyperfixation was coming back for me, too 👀 
I was looking over your posts for LU, and if you don’t mind, I’d love to share some of my own random thoughts with you! I hope that’s okay 👉👈
After I read your “Humans aren't just round-eared Hylians?” post I have had,, many thoughts 👀 One random difference between humans and Hylians I thought about was the possibilities of varying strength,,, You briefly mentioned how Hylians seemed lighter than they seemed to Guide!Reader, and let me tell you, it was such a small detail, but I was transFIXED. I have this image of humans/Guide!Reader just being naturally stronger than the average Hylians - and it made me think of scenarios of the Reader just effortlessly hauling around two Links on their shoulders like sacks of potatoes- And them also picking up things that are supposed to be really heavy with ease! Like, Four would make a longsword, and Reader picks it up out of curiosity, expecting it to be really heavy, but it’s actually not that bad?? (Four in the background: 🧍)
If the Reader is already pretty strong (and maybe even has a profession in fighting, like a boxer or something,, [I might be projecting slightly—]), then ooo 👀 I can see there being this one time where a bunch of monsters ambush the Chain, and as everyone is fighting with the Reader giving them advice and whatnot, a Lizalfos managed to slip past everyone and sprint towards the Reader to attack them. The others are panicking because they won’t be able to reach the monster in time, but just as the Lizalfos raised its sword, one single punch from the Reader sent it flying back into the fray, knocking it into a Moblin. Reader is just standing there with their fist still in the air like “👁️👄👁️ h u h … whY ARE YOU GUYS STARING, YOU’RE STILL FIGHTING—”
In your newest post about the Guide!Reader’s voice, you mentioned how some entities could hear them, and I don’t know if he would, but I think it’d be kinda funny if Ganon and all of his other reincarnations could hear the Reader talking to Link- I’m not sure if he remembers his past lives, but if he does and hears/recognises Reader’s voice, I love the image of him thinking “Oh god, THIS guy again??” Because Reader WILL clown on him-
Dehydrated Ganondorf: *insert evil monologue here*
Guide!Reader: Uh-huh, sure, bold words for someone whose skin looks like a prehistoric riverbed. :|
Sage: *w he eze*
As I was writing all this, I had to think to myself, “Huh,, Guide!Reader doesn’t die when they fall into lava, aren’t really affected by harsher temperatures and winds, and also can swim against strong currents. They’re environment-resistant basically. But there’s bound to be at least one weakness to it all, right?” I did come up with said weakness, and I think it’s kinda basic, BUT one idea I had was that because Guide!Reader is so resistant to the natural elements of Hyrule, they are conversely quite weak to unnatural causes in turn. If they get injured, say they get cut with a knife by a Bokoblin, then that wound would take much longer to heal than it should. Any injuries that the Reader sustains in Hyrule are harder to heal (which I feel like could make some interesting angst,, 👀); their injuries would take more magic to completely heal them, or have more healing potions to drink. I also thought of the Reader being very vulnerable to any sort of poison- Like, if they get a pinch or two (or three) of strong poison in their system, they get knocked out for like two days 💀 
So basically, Guide!Reader is very resistant to the environment, possibly quite strong, but does not have any good constitution,,
[On another note, maybe it’s just a me thing, but I personally love the thought of Wind looking up to the Reader as like a big brother figure,,]
And also!! Happy birthday!! 🥳🥳🎉 As a way of procrastination, I’ve been compiling memes with Guide!Reader and the Chain because the brain rot is hitting HARD,, I can share it with you in the future if you like! /gen /pos And sorry if this is such a long post dkjfgndf-
NOT SOMEONE BEING HAPPY I UPDATED UwU
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ur ideas, ur compliments, ur bday wishes, etc. hitting me like^^
Sun: Masc!Reader (he/him) this will be default unless ppl specify otherwise! , Guide!Reader, Boxer/Martial Artist!Reader
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: Most Links of the Chain mentioned + Sage (Totk Link)! No focus/centric Link
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: light cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
In reference to This Post! Wait, Humans Aren’t just Round-Eared Hylians??
YOUR BRAIN>>>????!!!
This was such a yummy treat tysm for this, sharing is caring 🫶
I absolutely think Humans could be 10x stronger than Hylians, I mean if we base everything abt their universe off of Link weighing ~8 apples lmao
that means swords, armor, broadswords/claymores, battle axes, huge shields, if those weigh abt like fake swords/wooden ones back on earth to us, then i cant even imagine what canons/horses/tree trunks/boulders weigh 💀
like props on a stage weight rather than the real thing lmao
No but how many Links can you fit in one carry??
ok u got a heavier Link on your back, like Time, Twi or Wars, then Four/Wind/Hyrule/Legend (yes he’s light/smaller side, tho he may deny) in ur arms like one Link per arm, maybe 3 Links if you can like wrap ur arms around them
so like 4 Links total? well, Wind or Four r so light/small one could possibly ride on ur shoulders, so 5 LMAO??? that's like half the Chain already AHALJFAfJLL-
on another note,
I LOVEEE ganon being able to hear Guide Reader bc spent too long around them, also i originally based that off of characters who’ve shown they're meta/highly magical kinda (esp the meta part where they may have directly addressed players/broke 4th wall)
No bc Ganon would just be SO fed up by like, Wild’s time, it would literally be EXACTLY like what u said I’d imagine:
(u just playing the game and not realizing until later they can hear you)
Ganon: “ugh that blonde twink again, god when will this plan actually work-?!”
You: “eyyy, Ganon! omg, why’s he?? Hot??? damn, botw best ganon version fr”
Ganon: “you know what maybe you should just kill me right now, hero Link.”
(the thought of Ganon never being able to escape ur voice whenever Link was near him bc u didnt have a body to fight/kill, and instead he just had to deal with ur comments is SENDING ME)
changing subjects again sorry
YES!! that's the weakness/drawback I was thinking abt for Humans in Hyrule, while yes their environment isn't that effective on us, (i like to use “inside a video game” as the reason bc i think its neat)
humans are notoriously fragile in our own world already - we get sick, we get acid-reflux/throw up from bad food/food poisoning, etc.
so it makes sense we’d be more sensitive to this new environment, but even if we got adjusted,
we’re more external-proof, not internal-proof
(u know that's another reason why it works for Hylians and not Humans, we aren’t automatically healed by food, but their world does, and even in botw/totk when u have “dubious” food, its never inedible, its just useless to eat, so technically Hylians can kind of eat most anything off of that logic, like there is no such thing as “bad food” for them)
and u could take this either way tbh,
like we’re either entirely resistant to magic/dont take to it well bc our world didnt have it so potions/fairies don't work and we have to heal naturally
or just yeah, its like ur in a new country tbh, new germs/nature/food/etc. and u def cant guarantee u wont get a little sick from that
this would definitely include genuine poison!
bro the amount of WORRY the Links would feel after realizing the human guide guy who’s physically here now can barely handle their food??
Wild’s making a thorough list of what foods work for you and what don't, like safe foods to go back on, including recipes,
the way Time/Wars would absolutely be willing to take little detours/stop by towns more to make sure you have the right food you can eat,
and even tho Wild’s cooking, Sage is constantly testing for poison, like the dish itself, the herbs/plants, every ingredient needs to be extra safe even by Hylian standards (like not eating adventurous stuff like pufferfish or smth that could possibly have poison if cooked wrong/not enough etc)
that is to say, even if Wild makes a new recipe/other meal, he always has a backup safe meal to give you instead on those nights, and just way too many in general (yes he knows it doesn't buff ur health but he cant help his Hylians instincts to stuff the hurt person’s face with food ok??)
Hyrule! Is!! Losing!!! It!!!!
he has all the healing magic in the world and the one man he wants to help the most, for keeping him from being lonely on his adventure/looking out for him/being on his side no matter what, now he finds out he can’t even help them??
mans would literally keep trying to heal u til he’s drained it all out to just try and get the wound to close, if u didnt stop him
U get injured for the first time, and while a bruise/cut taking weeks to heal (depending on how bad) is normal to you, Hyrule + lowkey everyone is Freaking Out
Wounds DO NOT take weeks to heal?? They take hours at most??? Dude, are you dying-
(Wind got elbowed for that one, purely bc he voiced Sky/Hyrule/Wild/Twi paranoia out loud lol)
that is going with the version ur mostly unaffected by magic, but u could also do the human thing where we get adjusted to things over time (at least more than nothing), including food/sickness
The way All the Links just surround you or outright don’t let you come into crowded parts of town so ur poor immune system wont make u sick again 😭
on the bright side they'd all get rlly good at preventative measures like this, and taking care of sick you lol
(yes, u bribed Wind to get little bro cuddles when ur sick, it wasn't hard, he sees u as the most genuine bigger bro probably bc ur likely hte most affectionate out of all the Links)
(should I get into cultural differences between humans/hylians like humans being more openly cuddly/affectionate? like how in humans are space orcs fandom they acknowledge its unusual for us to “packbond” so easily to so many different species? and how this could possibly apply to not only Hylians but any Friend-shaped creatures across the Hyrules?? ..nah. I’ll save that for another post)
AND YES!! feel free to shoot rambles/thoughts/not even requests my way! Id love to talk abt it or just post it for the world to marvel at too lol
ohh mY God;; YOU HAVE MEMES FOR THIS?? PLEASEEEE SHOW ME????
thank you for this, srsly /pos
Peace out,
🌙
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Related to the previous ask, it kind of makes me think of my semi-headcanon. In the source material of the Disney movies, some of the villains aren't really evil (Hades is the most decent Greek god, the sorcerer and the advisor from Aladdin are two different people, etc). What if in TWST, the stories are similar to that?
[Referencing this post!]
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TWST has certainly teased or suggested the idea of real happenings being manipulated or changed depending on who tells it + the passage of time. It also happens in the real world, both with historical events, anecdotes, and pieces of fiction (fairy tales, fables, etc.). This probably is what results in the juxtaposition between Yuu's understanding of the Great Seven in their dreams versus how the Great Seven are depicted and revered in Twisted Wonderland.
Right now, it's still unclear as to whether Yuu's perspective or the perspectives of those in their new world is the "true" version. One could be right, both could be right, or neither could be right. I like all of these possibilities!!
It's entirely possible that multiple people and their achievements were merged over time into a single entity credited with all of their achievements. It's also possible that the Great Seven of Twisted Wonderland are actually nothing like the classically evil villains we know of in the original Disney films. The films themselves aren't even "accurate" themselves, as they often pull from fairy tales with many different variations, some of which are quite dark. Disney made their own interpretation, and then TWST made its own interpretation of that interpretation.
That doesn't mean the Great Seven are necessarily infallible heroes (much as the characters and their textbooks often extol them and their accomplishments). I feel like a more realistic real-world parallel would be historical figures that are often painted in a good light due to all the stories circulated about them. Think of like how your own textbooks and how prominent people get praised and credited for various discoveries and inventions!! But as people who have actually existed in their world, surely there must also be instances of the G7’s flaws, failures, or even personal lives beyond their achievements, and it's odd that we so rarely hear about these (particularly the negatives).
There's still a great number of mysteries we have to unravel about the nature of all the Disney lore in our world versus the twisted world!! Lots of wiggle room ripe for speculation ✨
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charlie-lec-stories · 7 months
Text
Some Odd Numbers are Even // CL16 & MV1
Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen
Summary: Max knows that he's always been in love with his best friend, even if she was driving for the enemy, and he could live with that, but her dating the rival he has a crush on it's where he draws the line.
Warnings: Some angst, but they all take it like champs. Max kisses people when he's drunk. Some sexual comments.
Author’s Note: I had to work on this one a lot to make it fit the theme of the blog, but it motivated me to keep editing my stories, this is the beginning of everything. Rate: +18
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When Max Verstappen met Y/N he was the most hormonal 15 years-old on Earth, or at least that's how his father called him, always running around chasing girls instead of focusing on what was important. He has to admit that his head wasn't filled with the purest thoughts when they got introduced by their mutual friend, Pierre, but when she humiliated all the boys on the track winning by almost twenty seconds, he knew he fell hard. She called him her best friend the second time they hung out and, to Max's dismay, their destiny seemed to have been sealed. Best friends. He hated it, but he would take what he could get. With time, he learned to live with it. She was the first person he told he was feeling "confused", as he initially called it, and then the first he decided to let know that he was bisexual when he finally understood it. He was glad that she took it great and she was kind of surprised that he ever thought she could get mad about him liking people. They enjoyed gossiping around and sharing their opinions on the different people they liked, but he never dared to tell her how he felt about her. She has had at least five boyfriends and countless one-night stands since they met and everything always ended up in heartbreak for her. He spent years wanting to scream "I'm here, just look at me", but she never looked his way, at least not like he wanted. Still, he tried to be supportive, because she still was his best friend and his massive crush on her wasn't her fault. He was supportive when she dated that weird dude from Canada who was obsessed with her hair, when she told him that she wanted to learn how to play the guitar and when she decided that she wanted to drive for Mercedes in F1. He was still a little pissed off that she signed with Mercedes, but he took it like a big boy.
However, there was something they could never see eye to eye about and that something was actually a someone: Charles Leclerc. Max and Charles had quite the history when it came to their relationship, they were rivals above all but, unknown to Charles, the monegasque was also Max's bi awakening when they were 16. The dutch took his time getting there, but he ended up understanding that even though he was constantly wanting to rip Charles' head off, he also find him attractive. Of course, that didn't make Max like the other, he knew the difference between finding someone good looking and liking them at all. Would he have sex with Charles? Probably, in another universe. Did he stopped disliking Charles? No, definitely no. But his best friend adored Charles. Y/N could write a whole encyclopedia about Charles, she was in love with him, but Charles was that unreachable entity that never looked at her as more than Pierre's friend. He was always nice to her, attentive, charming, funny, even warm. He liked her, not the way she liked him, but he liked her anyways. The three of them were trapped in this weird triangle and Max hated it. He hated Charles for getting the attention he wanted and for getting even hotter with time. But for Max things only got worse.
They were all 24 and it was the first time in a long period that the three of them were single simultaneously. Charles had broken up with his girlfriend of two years before the start of the season, Y/N was on a celibacy run since the beginning of the year and Max broke up with his latest boyfriend who he only dated for three months. On the first race of the season he noticed that the Ferrari driver was a recurring character at the Mercedes garage. For a moment, Max thought that Charles was considering moving to Mercedes, but he soon found out that the Ferrari driver had other intentions.
"... And then I said "I'm coming on your camera, mate". Never felt so stupid in my life". Y/N laughed at Charles' story and Max could feel his blood boil inside his veins. "But well, at least I wasn't the one who suggested to milk the goats on Goat Simulator". He added softly looking at George Russell, Y/N teammate, and making the girl giggle.
"Good to know you're funny, Leclerc, now you can make a career in stand-up when you finally fail making one in racing". Charles rolled his eyes and then smirked.
"Look at that, Mr. World Champion is scared of a little competition". Charles taunted him. "What is it, Verstappen? Afraid of me stealing the title this year?"
"Okay, enough of the testosterone battle". Y/N cut them off before Max could reply. "Neither of you got the bigger stick".
"Are you sure about that, Cherie?". Max was five second away from murder. The wink was like playing with fire, but Charles did it anyways. The championship wasn't the only thing he was stealing from Max that year. "Never say things like that without proof".
That same night, around 4 am, Max opened his hotel room to an extremely happy Y/N: "You won't guess who helped me break my celibacy streak". Well... he could guess.
By summer break Charles and Y/N were officially the paddock's favourite couple, for everyone except Max. He was furious about it, and Charles fighting him the championship so closely wasn't exactly helping. Even the fans could see how much Max resented the relationship between his known best friend and rival. Every podium, cool down room and interview that included the two was filled with drama. Petty comments, eyes rolling, arms crossed and even once, Max calling Charles an idiot. But what Max didn't want to admit was that the more he was forced to spend time with Charles, the more he started to like him. He was funny and Max found himself having to suppress a laugh at one of his jokes more than once. He was also extremely good at racing and that was something that Max liked, it was the first thing that made him fall for Y/N in the first place. Also, his best friend was constantly telling him how nice Charles was to her: romantic, loving, caring. And even if Max didn't like it, he could see that Charles actually cared about Y/N, he could see that Charles was in love with her. It broke his heart, it pained him like anything before. He thought he could take it, that he was mature enough to let her go and be happy for her. But he couldn't, so he decided to put some distance, to take care of himself and protect his heart.
The second part of the season was intense. Max won his second championship, but he had put so much distance between him and his best friend that she wasn't there to celebrate with him. She was at the Ferrari garage, hugging a defeated Charles and running her hands up and down his back. The monegasque had the prize that Max wanted the most and, suddenly, the award on his hands wasn't that important. Not when she was there, supporting him. It hurt to watch, her kissing Charles and hugging him tight. Charles smiling at her, nodding his head as he accepted her words of encouragement. She was probably giving him the same speech she gave Max when he first started in F1. "You're more than enough". "Your time will come". "You have what you need to be a champion". He could remember it like it was yesterday when she would ran her fingers through his hair, his head on her lap, softly crying, the ghost of another DNF haunting him. It always worked though, her mumbled sweet words, fixing his broken ego and shattered heart. No matter the distance, Max just couldn't let her go and now he had nothing, not even his best friend. Around Christmas he had come to the conclusion that the main reason why he hated Charles and Y/N's relationship so much was because he didn't know if he wanted to be her to date Charles or be Charles to date her. He liked them both, and if learning he was bi was shocking back in his teenage years, addressing the fact that he liked two people at the same time was even more. So he did what he did best when it was off season, he got drunk. Shit-faced drunk, so wasted that he couldn't remember his own home address.
The red door in front of him was familiar and for a moment he wondered if he actually made it home. That door made him feel home, somehow. He knocked on the door a few times. His head was spinning and thinking hurt his brain. The door swung open, his best friend was looking up at him worried from the other side of it. He didn't think it through, he just grabbed her face and smashed his lips on hers. For a moment, he thought he could feel her kiss back, but as quick as the kiss started, it ended. With a mumbled "You don't know what you're doing" and sad expression on her face, Y/N led him inside and dropped him on the couch. Charles was sitting there, without a shirt and looking at him with a pissed off expression. Max had lost whatever self control he had and the words just started pouring out of his mouth like a river.
"What are you looking at, Leclerc?". He asked, words slurred.
"You just kissed my girlfriend". Charles knew it was pointless to argue with Max on that state, but he was as angry as his face showed.
"Deal with it". Max rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. "And put on a shirt, for fuck's sake, or I'm kissing you too".
For Max, there weren't many feelings worse than a hungover. It was easily on his top 5, along with heartbreak, losing at basically anything, visiting his father and eating tuna, not in that specific order. He did the best he could to look around but the sunlight was burning his eyes off, figuratively, but he felt it literally. The feeling of the furniture underneath him was oddly familiar and the smell in the air was definitely Y/N's. For a moment, he closed his eyes and decided to go back to sleep, satisfied with the feeling of being home. Suddenly, he remembered that he shouldn't be there. Sitting straight up, he found himself ready to throw up from the sudden movement. He took a look at his surroundings, Y/N's home was different from when he last remembered, a few months back. A lot of Ferrari merchandizing adorned the living room and a few framed pictures on the walls showed Charles' smiling face. Max felt the pain in his chest when he noticed that she still had up all of their pictures together. He was the most horrible friend on Earth, she loved him and he pushed her away. A picture in particular caught his attention, it was a podium from the first half of the season, in Silverstone. The three of them got into the podium on that occasion and Max had agreed to take the picture without much drama. Y/N was in the middle and both Max and Charles had their arms around her waist. They all looked genuinely happy. Max couldn't help but feel like he messed everything up, he was the only one to blame for that being the only picture they all had together. The only one, and Y/N had it hanging on her living room like it was a moment as cherished as the other life changing moments hanging on those walls. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to get out of that house. He picked up his phone and wallet from the coffee table, but his keys were nowhere to be found. He searched the whole living room desperately for almost fifteen minutes.
"You're awake". Max stopped moving at the voice of Charles ringing through the air, deep and raspy from sleep. The dutch was currently kneeled in front of the couch, trying to see if his keys were underneath it, and his back was facing Charles. He took a deep breath before he stood up and faced him.
"Yeah...". Was the only thing that Max could manage. He wanted to spit a mean comment, say something sassy enough for Charles to go away, but after seeing all of the monegasque's belongings so naturally laying around the house he didn't have the heart to disrespect him in what was undoubtedly his home.
"You had quite the night last night". Charles walked further into the living room, looking at Max with a puzzled gaze. "Do you remember anything from it?"
"Well, the last clear memory is downing something that tasted awful". Max scrunched his face remembering the taste.
"You came here around 4 in the morning-". Charles stopped talking suddenly. His tone insinuated that he had planned to say more, but he backed out last minute. He was visibly tense.
"I'm sorry". It was the first time Max had ever apologized to Charles in over ten years knowing each other.
"For how long had you liked Y/N?". To say that Max was taken aback by the question would be an understatement. His hungover head tried to think of an excuse, something that could spear him from admitting the truth. Charles could practically see the gears turning inside his head. "Don't bother lying. We know".
"We?". Max was pretty pale, but he managed to get paler.
"Listen". Charles relaxed a bit, moving closer to the couch. "You may don't believe this, but I actually like you, Max. I know that we don't have the best relationship, I'm willing to meet you half way, but I can't do that if you're not honest".
"There's no point in that anymore". Max admitted plopping himself on the couch. "She hates me. I'm the last threat to your relationship, Charles".
"She doesn't hate you. She loves you. Which is kind of awkward because she's my girlfriend". Charles sat next to Max on the couch, the other looking at him with a confused expression. "You kissed her last night".
"Fuck". Max hid his face on his hands. "I'm so sorry, Charles". Twice in less than 30 minutes?
"She kissed you back". There was this tension between them, neither knew what to do with the conversation. "We talked about it when we went to bed". Charles shifted on the couch. "It was an interesting conversation though. We freely left out some things we were hiding". Max sat straighter and looked at Charles, trying to show him that he was actively listening. "Like the fact that we both have had a crush on you for ages". That was something unexpected. "I know that I hasn't been the kindest guy to you through the years, and this doesn't excuse it, but it was really confusing when all of this started happening and I wasn't sure of what to do with it". Max remained silent. "You can say something, you know?"
"I don't know what to say". Max was perplexed. "I guess I just have so much to say that I don't know where to start".
"Morning". Y/N's voice softly entered their charged atmosphere. She walked to the couch and sat down, reading their conversation on their faces. "Are we talking about it right now?"
"I hope you don't mind, but we started without you, mon amour". Charles grabbed her hand and lightly squeezed it.
"I don't mind". She sighed deeply. "Max, we've talked and we want to propose you something". Max nodded his head. "We both really like you, like really like you-"
"Already went through that, amour, he's still processing it". Charles chuckled.
"Oh, okay. To the point then?". She asked mostly to herself. "We know that this is kind of weird and you may not be into it, Charles himself is still working on the idea, but we'd like to know if you'll be interested into adding yourself to this". She pointed between herself and Charles. Max kept quiet.
They waited patiently for Max to gather his thoughts, they knew that it was a lot to take in and they weren't aware of his crush on Charles, so there was also this fear of him not liking Charles back. They spent the night talking, went through all the options: ignore it, break up, take some time, open the relationship, and lastly, they ended up with the only option that made them happy. They both liked Max, they both wanted to be with him, but they loved each other and hated the idea of breaking up so one of them could date Max. Charles had a few contradictions with the idea, he was too wired into monogamy and found the idea uncomfortable, but at the same time he felt like it was the right choice, the one that could make him feel complete. He still had a lot to think about but he wanted to give it a try. Y/N was more open to the concept, she was more in touch with her feelings and less into monogamy than Charles.
"I have been in love with you for so long". Max said softly out of the blue. His eyes met Y/N's when she looked at him. "You have no idea. No idea how much I dreamt about you saying that back to me". He clicked his tongue. "Do you remember when I was 16 and I told you that I saw a guy and felt weird?". Y/N nodded her head. Of course she remembered when he first came out to her. "It was Charles. We had had the most intense race ever, I was just so pumped up, the adrenaline so high. And he took off his helmet and all I could think about was punching his face and then kiss it". Chales, who had been looking at his lap since Max confessed his love for Y/N, looked up at Max.
"For that long?". Charles asked. Max nodded.
"It was my bi awakening". The three of them laughed softly. The air became lighter around them.
"I always thought it was Pierre, you know?". Y/N told Max.
"Oh God, no! I mean I love Pierre, but c'mon, you both are more my type". Max said with more confidence.
"Does that mean that you're in?". Charles asked. Max looked between him and Y/N a few times and then smiled wide.
"Yeah, I'm in".
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Okay! So, this is the beginning of the relationship. remember that none of these stories are published in chronological order. They are just short stories about different situations those three went though. I hope you like it!
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bongo-clash · 1 year
Text
Even when you don't know what it is your job knows what it is
DP/DC week prompt: There was something off about them
'Danny Phantom, alleged several-thousand year old ghostly entity, has a feeling something’s not quite right with Captain Marvel, alleged several-thousand year old champion of magic. He reckons there's no time like the present to confront his hunch.'
-
Look, Danny’s been working with the Justice League for a while now, and he likes to think he knows them all pretty well. Some of them are more open about their civilian identities than others, but even if he doesn’t know who everyone is behind the cowls, he’s got their personalities down pat at least.
Everyone except, perhaps, Captain Marvel. 
Maybe that’s not fair to say. Captain’s a friendly enough guy- nobody’s ever had a bad conversation with him that Danny knows of- but he’s weirdly flaky. The longest he’s stuck around post-mission is probably about five minutes tops, and no one actually knows anything about the man; the League have a habit of hanging around after missions for drinks and talk, and the Captain’s been offered a place with them several times and not taken it once. In all fairness, neither has Danny, but he has an excuse. They think he’s about several thousand years older than he actually is and also a full ghost, so they’d probably expect him to drink and he doesn’t want to have to go through the awkward process of refusing and nor does he want Jazz to go ape on him for giving into peer pressure. 
…That’s another thing; Captain Marvel is allegedly several-thousand years old, but when Danny looks at him there’s a strange sense of camaraderie that makes him think maybe they’re both liars. 
The longer he’s spent thinking about it, the more sense it makes. Their behaviours probably have a lot in common from an outside perspective: coming across awkward around the other members of the team, passing on every event outside of work, sharing very little about their personal lives least of all a civilian identity- which neither of them are even suspected to have. After all, Phantom’s a ghost, and Captain Marvel’s the champion of magic, it seems reasonable to assume their have some other plane of existence they return to when they’re not in the Watchtower. But Danny just goes back home to Illinois and tells his parents he was at Tucker’s again, and he really doesn’t believe that the Captain just sets up shop by the ‘Rock of Eternity’ or whatever he’d mentioned it was called. 
He doesn’t know how to bring it up, though, because what if he’s wrong? There’s a non-zero chance that he’s just projecting his own issues on the man (and that sounds so much like something Jazz would say that it physically hurts), and if Danny tries to confront the man about a lie that isn’t there, then the Captain will know he’s lying, and he’ll totally get booted off the team or placed with Young Justice. There’s nothing wrong with YJ, but it’d just hurt to have worked side-by-side with them proving his reliability for so long only to get pushed away because of his age. 
So he doesn’t say anything, figuring there’s not much choice other than to wait for some kind of confirmation. Until, of course, the opportunity for confrontation arrives in the aftermath of one mandatory League check-point meeting. 
-
Check-point meeting with the Justice League are really just contractually obligated gossip sessions regarding their recent heroic endeavours that quickly descends into normal conversations. Contrary to the usual progression of these meetings, however, Green Lantern is prodding at Captain Marvel to tell him about what it was like visiting ancient civilisations before they fell. 
It’s one of those weeks where the other members are being a bit more insistent on finding out more about the Captain. They’ve made their peace with the fact that they’re not going to get much in terms of a civilian life out of him, but every single member of the League (with the exception of maybe Martian Manhunter) is invariably nosy, which obviously leads to their more mysterious members coming under scrutiny every now and again. This also includes Danny on occasion, but Phantom has a brilliant out for interrogations in the form of making people uncomfortable about the fact that, even if he’s an ancient entity, he clearly died young. All he has to do is pull out some wistful bullshit about wishing he’d lived long enough to experience mortal romance or something equally upsetting and he’s home-safe. 
The man across from him, however, taking the form of a very much full-grown adult, has no such excuse. 
“Come on, Captain, surely you can tell us something! I thought you were around for ancient Egypt?” Hal exclaims, leaning just slightly over the meeting table to scrutinise his colleague. The Captain is looking increasingly uncomfortable. 
“Of course I was!” Marvel agrees quickly, accompanied by a nod of the head that could almost be described as frantic. “Ancient Egypt was around for ages, probably couldn’t’ve missed all that if I tried! I wasn’t around for all that much of it though, I- uh, I caught the tail end of it- when Cleopatra was pharaoh, if I remember right- but I was… I was a little busy somewhere else during that, uh, era.”
Green Lantern raises an eyebrow behind the green domino mask. “Busy? Busy doing what?”
“Well-“
The Captain is making a very particular face, the kind that Danny imagines he himself makes when he’s scrambling for any reasonable excuse to get out of the hole he’s dug himself into by lying. And Danny looks at him from across the table, the man catching his eyes with a look he can only describe as odd and desperate, and he makes a decision. 
“That was around the time all those conferences were being held to sort out the mess between the newly-formed undead societies and the natural ghosts, right? There was some involvement with living mages, if I recall correctly; I’m sure I saw you at one of those.”
In terms of lies he could’ve told, he figures this one is pretty low-risk. There were a lot of diplomatic meetings held between natural ghosts and the ones existing post-mortem when proper civilisations first came about and people from them started dying, after all (though he knows for fact the living weren’t involved in any way), so it’s not like he’s pulling it out of his ass. If he’s wrong about the Captain and the man admits he doesn’t have a clue what Danny’s talking about, then he can just say it must have been a realms-exclusive thing- hard to remember the finer details when it was all so long ago- and they’ll be none the wiser. 
But if he’s right, and he’s really beginning to think he is, then-
Sure enough, the man across from him nods vigorously, clicking his fingers together as if his memory’s just been jogged. “Right!” He chirps, sending Danny a brazen smile. “I don’t know how I forgot about those! Man, those conferences dragged on, didn’t they?”
Bingo. 
“Don’t even worry about it- I honestly would’ve thought the first ones were around the revolution at the end of the Qin dynasty in China if you hadn’t reminded me- my memory was way off. Speaking of that though, have you spoken to Pandora since? I figured you two would get along pretty well, but I know there wasn’t much time for small talk and dimension hopping wasn’t half as easy as it is now.”
Captain Marvel shakes his head with pursed lips. “Can’t say I have; not a lot of free time between everything, like you said. Would love to be introduced properly though!”
“Well, I did say I would- couple thousand years later than I thought it’d be, but better late than never.”
The tension easing from Marvel’s shoulders is probably obvious to everyone in the room. Superman looks to the both of them curiously. “You never mentioned knowing each other?” The Kryptonian questions. Phantom laughs the way he sees his mom do during those weird adult get-togethers. 
“Oh, we’ve crossed paths a lot,” He declares with a wave of his hand, brushing the notion to the side, catching the gaze of the Captain in his peripheral even as he keeps his eyes on the other superhero. “Can’t say we had the opportunity to get to know each other properly between it all, though. Relations between the magic living and the restless dead have always been a little… fraught. I was just planning to keep things professional on my end unless the Captain wanted to seek a friendship outside of work since I wasn’t sure how appreciated it would be, especially given how much fuss ghosts have been giving the mortal plane recently.”
Marvel’s laugh mimics his own. “That’s what I was thinking! I guess no amount of time can time will change how weird it can be trying to made work friends.”
-
Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), Captain Marvel is waiting outside the hall for him when the meeting is adjourned and each member of the League goes their separate ways. Wordlessly, Danny follows him deeper into the Watchtower, floating behind before phasing them both into one of the locked rooms everyone knows there’s no cameras in, for the sake of being allowed confidential discussions in at least one area of the place- when approved, of course, but these walls don’t hold Phantom just yet, given that the ghost-proofing paint doesn’t quite stick over the lead-lining. 
“So.” Danny starts, when they’re both inside the office and the silence begins to creep thick into the air. 
Captain Marvel looks nervous. “So.”
“You weren’t at those conferences.”
“No, I wasn’t.” It seems almost painful for him to admit, hands flicking slightly like he wants to fidget with them but doesn’t want to be caught doing it. “I’m grateful you, uh, that you said I was there- thank you, Phantom- but why’d you cover for me?”
For the first time today, and maybe even the first time in the Watchtower, Danny levers himself down from the air, putting both feet on the ground. He hopes beyond hoping his face comes across sincere. “Because I wasn’t there either.” He admits gently, watching for a response. 
“I- what?” The man doesn’t appear to know what he’s meant to say. Well, time to rip the bandaid off. 
“Captain, you’ve not been around for six thousand, have you? I’m willing to bet you haven’t even been around for 18.” The reaction is immediate. Marvel’s eyes widen, pupils shrinking with alarm, arms coming up as if in defence as he splutters some kind of excuse, and Danny interrupts before he can spiral too hard. “Dude, don’t worry. I seriously won’t tell anyone if you are- I’m not a snitch.”
The Captain’s expression looks utterly lost. “Why?”
Danny thinks it’s probably best to just bite the bullet here. He stands still as the transformation washes over him, bright silver-blue rings parsing over his form, exchanging gravity-defying white hair for scraggly black, hazmat for jeans and a sweater, and Lazarus-green eyes for a gentler blue. When the light finally dissipates, he gives the Captain a second just to process, before sending him a wry grin.
“Hi, Captain Marvel, I’m Phantom- otherwise known as Danny Fenton- Ambassador for the Infinite Realms and sixteen year-old half-human-half-ghost boy.”
The other hero stands still for a long, long moment, mute with shock, before muttering a quiet ‘Shazam’ and allowing the room to fill with the sudden crackle of a lightning bolt. Where the hulking form of Captain Marvel once stood, a boy is left in his place- eyes and hair the same, if a little less put together- but only just coming up to Danny’s shoulder, wearing clothes that have clearly seen a few years go by. If Danny had to guess, he looks about eleven or twelve
“Hi, Phantom,” He says, a little quieter but with more confidence than he’d had before, staring him resolutely in the eyes. “I’m Captain Marvel- also Billy Batson- champion of magic and twelve year-old and world’s mightiest mortal.”
Danny cannot resist reaching over to ruffle the kid’s hair. “Amazing to meet you,” He beams. “And if anyone asks, we’ve known each other since the Early Dynastic period of Egypt and are in no way human or related to any living humans. You good with that?”
Billy looks up at him with a gap in his teeth and mischief in his eyes. 
“Phantom, I am more than okay with that.”
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iolypse · 1 year
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alright! shit went down last night, huh?
I'm gonna run through the events that took place, then break it all down. (this whole thing is 1.4k+— sorry!)
qcellbit, our newest mad theorist, spent some time going around the island asking the members who've been here the longest about their experiences. how they got to the island, if they remember anything from before the island, the dragon, the duck, the messages, the binary code fuckers, cucurucho, the eggs, etc etc.
one particularly interesting bit of info was given to him by qphilza, who explained the existence of the airships and his investigation of a particularly large one. after showing qcellbit some items he looted from said ship, including a netherite pickaxe, enchanted golden apples, and chorus fruit, he talks about how a binary monster chased him all the way back to mainland, trying to kill him the whole time. he mentions that when accidentally right clicking it, a baby certificate popped up just like what happens when you right click the eggs. he then recounts that qfit threw a bomb to kill the entity, which promptly despawned so they couldn't loot its body.
he says that a short amount of time later, the entity appeared again and gave him a book with coordinates on it. said coordinates lead to an odd machine built at qluzu's house.
later on, qcellbit explains all of this to his fellow theory brothers, and with qphil in tow, they go to investigate. it's exactly as qphil said— an odd machine, specifically a few blocks of which are admin placed, and what looks like a screen that could hold code inside? the machine also has an eight on it. maybe tracking the number of eggs?
(the original number, maybe. there are only seven eggs alive right now, ten eggs have existed total. with tallulah and richarlyson as late additions, yeah, that makes eight original eggs.)
qcellbit, qbad, qmaximus, and qfoolish all discuss this. one of them is suddenly given a book with code that translates to say "LEAVE". they debate this for a little while— is it saying to leave the machine, or leave the island? they aren't sure.
I'm not really caught up on qluzu's lore, but apparently there's some alternate version of qluzu called arin, and arin is a machine of some sort. arin may allegedly be part of the machine they look at now?
they then decide that they need to at least see if it would be possible to escape. the portal that the initial trains came through still exists, so they all leave their kids with qphil and go investigate.
qphil, now alone with chayanne, richarlyson, and leonarda, all of which have a single life, sets up a table and decides to ask them about their past. do they remember anything at all from being kidnapped and returned cracked? no. he turns to richarlyson, then— newest egg, the only one left uncracked— and asks about the dragon. was it small like a little lizard, or large, larger than luzu's house? richarlyson specifically says that he thinks— doesn't know, but thinks— that the dragon is very, very large.
it's then that a binary entity with a name translating to "AI" attacks (very briefly, it appears with cucurucho's skin, though I personally believe this to be a simple glitch unrelated to any actual lore, same with the eggs occasionally appearing with normal mc skins), immediately going for chayanne. qphil quickly sends out messages telling the others to come back now, and he and the eggs try their damned best to fight it off. qphil has to pop an enchanted golden apple, and it seems like the eggs' guns aren't really doing anything. the binary entity isn't going down. it flees just before the others return. they never quite reached the portal.
qphil takes chayanne home after this. chayanne tells him that he's missing his gun. did it break? he's not sure. it might've, but it's gone now.
meanwhile, qroier and qbobby are on a boat ride, far from mainland. they make it to shore, and that's when the binary entity— the same one that just attacked qphil and the eggs he was looking after— attacks. it forces them into the water, and bobby drowns while trying to escape it. the entity exclusively attacked bobby the entire time, not once going after qroier. as soon as bobby was confirmed dead, it swam to the surface and flew off.
there's more that happened after this— I haven't watched the full clips, but some include a mob typically only spawned by the binary entities showing up and attacking qbbh while he and tallulah were making a beach house, and cucurucho appearing within the hidden parts of qcellbit's base while he was in the middle of theorizing.
so! onto the actual analysis part of this bullshit.
the binary entities. there's at least six of them, 01101100 "l" (lowercase L) who originally attacked qphil, 101010110101 (has no direct translation, too many numbers) who attacked arin, 1001010 "J" who attacked qcellbit, 100101001 ")" (?????) who attacked leonarda, 01101001 "i" who attacked qmariana, and now 01000001 01001001 "AI" who attacked qphil and qroier separately (not including other binary entities I may have missed).
some of them are very determined to kill the eggs (looking at AI specifically), while others freely attack players (lowercase L), so it's hard to pinpoint if they have a collective motive here.
I've seen some people theorize that they are the interference in the messages players have been receiving— jumbled numbers and letters and morse code hidden within the videos, a voice asking "are you there?". I would have said they're trying to get players to leave the island by making it more dangerous and more unappealing, getting rid of the eggs so they no longer have any reason to stay, but then there's AI, who specifically attacked while the theory brothers were attempting to escape. A distraction, most certainly— I don't buy that this is a mere coincidence.
something I have noticed is that their activity has been more and more frequent the more the theory brothers spread what they've discovered, today revealing to qroier most everything they've been able to decipher, just a few days ago explaining things to qphil and inviting qcellbit to the group.
clearly they don't want people knowing things. they don't want the code deciphered, they don't want the island residents to learn what's happening beneath the surface.
so they're not trying to get them to leave the island, and the code within the video is likely not theirs (it's in a totally different format anyways— morse code and jumbled numbers and letters as opposed to pure binary code). when they received the book telling them to leave, it most likely meant to leave the machine. they're tormenting the eggs to further build emotional attachment and discourage attempts to escape or solve the code.
so whose code is this, if not the binary entities'?
no fucking clue! I do quite doubt it's cucurucho, and it's most certainly not the duck. it may be an outside source knowledgeable to the census bureau's potential crimes, or a possible survivor and escapist from long ago. the island was definitely once inhabited judging by the run down buildings that existed when the first batch of island residents arrived.
one thing I've been thinking about lately is the fact that they had to bring power to the island.
we haven't really seen anything come of that, have we? why would the island need power? there's odd outlets put in the wall, what's their use? why would something need to be linked to the wall?
wasn't the attempt kind of unsuccessful? both groups fucked up the puzzle in the train station, but they were let out anyway?
small little theory of mine is that they somehow drew power from the eggs to bring the brazilians there, cracking them in the process, but I really don't have any proof or anything to back this up. it's just a potential explanation as to why the eggs disappeared and came back cracked on the very same day the brazilians arrived.
I will say that some of the eggs have acted somewhat different since that all happened. while it may just be a response to the trauma they experienced, I feel like chayanne and tallulah have both been wandering a lot more than they used to lately. they always stuck fairly close to their parents, but it seems like they've both been straying a bit.
I'm honestly spitballing at this point, just trying to get a grasp on all this info. at the very least, I'm almost 100% certain the dragon never existed, and something is super fucking wrong with this island!
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ryunumber · 8 months
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After a couple false starts, I think I have a way out of Neopets.
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If you can find an instance of any other iteration of the Tooth Faerie which has a Ryu number, Neopets has a version of her which is a pretty typical Tooth Faerie and I'd count similar to how a Santa is a Santa or a Death is a Death. For the specific instance of The Darkest Faerie, the Tooth Faerie appears alongside Fyora as a playable character in the flash game Faerie Cloud Racers, and Fyora appears in The Darkest Faerie video game. (Alongside the Darkest Faerie, of course.)
I imagine the conceptual Tooth Faerie shows up LESS than someone like Santa, but there has to be some other game with a tooth faerie to work off. There HAS to be.
The faeries who appear in Faerie Cloud Racers also show up in lots of other stuff, so I feel like if you can find another Tooth Faerie to link to Ryu, it might blow Neopets wide open in terms of Ryu numbers.
So with the Tooth Faerie I'm personally in this weird gray area of "Faeries are very much a Neopets thing and Neopets is the only context in which this character's title is spelled 'The Tooth Faerie'" vs. "as pointed out, there is basically nothing more to this character beyond the fact that she gives money for teeth, which is also exactly as much as there is about the Tooth Fairy". Which is to say, yeah, sure, this is probably good enough of a pull to warrant an alternate path. Not unambiguously bulletproof, but certainly defensible.
Or it would be, if I could actually find a single eligible game with The Tooth Fairy.
There's a handful with tooth fairies, certainly. Psychonauts 2, for instance.
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But those are all pretty clearly tooth fairies, and for this connection to be eligible the Tooth Fairy needs to be a unique entity, and I can't find one. Plenty of shows that have had a Tooth Fairy either as a quintessential children's show episode or a one-off comedic "har har the Tooth Fairy's some middle-aged dude", but as far as I know, none of them have made into video game adaptations. Not even the small browser games.
So uh, hey, open invitation to find one. It just needs to be 1. the singular, unique Tooth Fairy and referred to as such and 2. part of a "commercial" game, be it a paid game or an official game for an IP of some note. Which is to say, the creepy old lady from Antumbra doesn't quite work for this purpose.
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(She also says she was a Tooth Fairy, but if it wasn't clear, we're scraping bottoms of barrels here.)
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