#she said 'oh i think you charge it under the moonlight' and i nearly lost my shit

[witchtipsandinfo]

My mother...? My 'witchcraft is bad, only mentioned my sister's a witch when necessary and in whispers with judging looks' mother...just...asked me...if I know how to charge a crystal? Like, good for her, but??? Apparently one of her friends gave her a small Amethyst geode and told her to charge it and keep it under her pillow so she sleeps better?

Like....what do I say to that? I absolutely love it, but what do I say to it?

#i haven't told her i'm a witch btw #but seriously #she said 'oh i think you charge it under the moonlight' and i nearly lost my shit #like. mother. ????? #yes yes you do but how do you know that #personal #witch #witchcraft #witchblr #witchcraft 101 #witches #baby witch #secret witch #broom closet witch #broom closet

[themagicmistress]

Heere’s an excerpt from the first draft of ‘Flowers, Soft Beneath My Heels.’ Scrapped most of it, but I liked this scene! Soo, here it is

~

Rumblecusp is a nice place. The sky is clear and has been most of the days they’ve been here. The air is still and windless save the light breezes that simply ruffle the tree leaves.

Despite the relative peace of the environment, which on any other day would be idyllic, her view of the town is one of slight chaos, and in a different way than it had been last night. People are angry, stone-faced and yelling at each other, faces darkened with rage. Yelling is fine. She has a feeling they’re just doing it to do something instead of nothing in their situation. Some, however, wander through the village with lost faces, looking pleadingly up at the sky as if for answers. It has none to give them, she knows. The Moonweaver has said her piece.

But Yasha’s not looking for trouble, or any of the previous followers of the not-god. She peers curiously around the village, trying to call back to mind the location Anola had told her to go looking for.

She has to knock on a few doors and then awkwardly backtrack as she’s met with more than one tear-streaked face until Yasha finds an older man with a long wispy beard and weary black eyes.

“No alcohol here,” he says roughly and goes to slam the door. She wedges her toe between it and the frame before he can. His eyebrows fly nearly to his hairline. “Of course,” says the man she really hopes is Kresh, “I could always reconsider.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Yasha reassures and he leans back from her a bit. “I’m not going to hurt you,” She says more insistently and Kresh nods quickly. She stifles a sigh. “Look, I’m just looking to buy something nice for a friend and Anola said you were the person to go to.”

The pressure on her foot lessens and the door swings open. “Oh,” his face is sheepish, “Something sweet, right?”

“Yes,” Yasha tells him. Her heels ache and her heart’s still hopping a half-beat too fast from the earlier scare. She wants to be safe beneath the protection of the dome, her friends breathing warm beside her.

The candies are twenty-five gold, a bit more than mainland prices, but well worth it.

She sticks her head into the dome and there’s a second of relief as she sees them all sitting next to each other, not having moved an inch. 

“Jester?” Yasha makes sure her voice is quiet with Beau leaning against Caleb’s shoulder, the two of them having dozed off. “Can I talk to you?”

Jester looks up from underneath Fjord’s arm, who doesn’t appear to notice his own slow attempts to pull her closer. “Sure, what do you want?”

She hesitates. “Just about stuff. Stuff that happened today.” The cleric’s face falls and for a second Yasha feels bad but she didn’t want Nott or the others to bug the tiefling about the candies.

“Oh. Coming.”

They don’t go far from the dome, Jester’s steps short and hurried. She’s also reluctant to go far, to stray more than she needs to.

Yasha pulls out the small sack out and hands it to her. “Here. I thought you’d like these and I also thought you’d prefer to not share, so… here I am giving them to you away from the others.”

The moment Jester figures out what the rock-like amber stones are, her face lights up. “Yasha!” she gasps, and her face breaks into a grin, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, and tonight was a lot. So.” She rubs the back of her neck. “You deserve it.” 

Jester pops one into her mouth and groans and her stomach does a split-second drop as she thinks oh-no-I-messed-up before she realizes it’s a happy noise.

“These are so good!” Jester shoves the bag back into her hands, “They’re really sweet and sorta crunchy at the same time. Holy cow, I can’t believe you got these here, Yasha, because when we leave I’m never gonna be able to get them again.” Her words are a little garbled with the candy in her mouth, but then she gives a pointed look to the bag. “What are you waiting for, are you going to eat one already or not?”

“They’re for you,” she refutes.

“Yeah, but I want you to have one, so eat it,” she tells her flatly. Yasha eats the candy. 

It’s a little caramelly and it melts in her mouth, with tiny hints of vanilla, all flavours she only knows because of Jester. It spreads in her teeth, sticky but pleasing, and in the center is a hard middle she discovers is a nut as she grinds it between her molars.

The tiefling’s fingers are deft, plucking candy after candy from the bag. They don’t shake and her friend’s demeanor remains unbothered by the night’s events.

What had her face looked like, fingers clenched around green robes, eyes teary toward liquid moonlight? She can only see what Jester shows her now. Someone delighted, maybe a little too delighted, by a simple gift of confectionery. Yasha only knows how she felt, watching a friend drift into the sky, glittering with chains like early morning dew on spiderwebs. Her pulse drumming in her ears, a war drum, teeth clenched, sword clenched, and useless.

Would that she could fell a god for her friend, but Yasha has never been able to claim herself saviour.

“Wanna ‘nother?” Jester offers, face curious now. She swallows. “How are you, Yasha?”

She blinks, taken aback. “I’m fine. Jester, are you okay? That’s— that was a lot up there.”

The answer is immediate. “I’m—” Jester stops. Frowns. “I’m fine too. You don’t need to worry about me, Yasha. I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

That’s one way of looking at it. She got what she wanted, so all the other stuff, herself gone forever, separated from her friends, the Traveler, didn’t matter. A rationalization, driven by necessity, like the kind Yasha made in battle. Help Beau before she’s impaled on those spikes below her instead of helping Fjord, it’s fine Caduceus is right there next to him, and don’t waste any effort on that last guy Caleb’s about to torch. A different kind of survival, the kind where you swath your hurts in anything that makes it stop just so that the raw and aching parts of you can shrivel and die inside your chest. Whether that means smiles or bloody fists.

“I don’t think you wanted this,” she says softly. “Things suck. And they’re going to keep being like that.”

Jester’s lips press together very tightly. She doesn’t look at her. Yasha has never thought of any of her friends as delicate, but now, she thinks that’s the problem. They’re strong. All of them. Strong enough to fight false gods and save villages and reverse death. Strong enough to face horrors most would never dream, and then lose. Someday, she fears they’ll go charging in somewhere they shouldn’t, into a chamber of laughing mouths, swallowing her whole. A clouded night and a clear moon leaving them devastated beneath it, one less to their number.

Not tonight. But it was close enough that her mind instinctively shies away from it.

“You ever think that maybe you put too-high expectations on someone without knowing it,” Jester says, breaking the silence. She tugs at the sleeves of her high-priestess outfit, “And then they try to live up to what you want them to be, but they can’t and then it goes wrong and you know that when it does it’s because of you and kind of really your fault? Like you were the one to set them up for failure in the first place?” It all comes out in a rush, her voice wobbling on the edge of tears as she rambles. “D’you ever feel like that, Yasha?”

There’s a tumultuous set to the lines of her mouth, pulled back into a grimace, too stiff for smiling, too desperate for frowning. What do you say to something like that and how can she say it with Jester looking at her like she knows the answer to her question, the plea she’s making. How do I make it right?

She licks her lips, still sticky-sweet.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

“I know,” she whispers. And then, softly, an admission of guilt, “but I would have left you guys. I would have.” Jester chuckles. “How did this happen? I didn’t mean— I mean, how did I even make him a god?”

Yasha doesn’t know anymore than she does how to make Jester feel better now. To reassure her this wasn’t her fault, at its core, none of it. “I don’t know.”

“No. That’s alright.” No words have ever sounded so small.

She thinks of Zuala. She’s always thinking, at least a little, about Zuala, but right now she thinks of her pulling them up the side of a hill, a little ways away from the tribe, about the way her fingers had fit neatly between Yasha’s own and how the last thing she remembers before leaving Xhorhas is the sound of thunder.

“You ever think,” Yasha repeats slowly, “people choose to leave because of you? Or not you personally, but because of your decisions, the choices you make. And when you think back, you realize if you had done something different, they might not have chosen to leave at all?” Jester listens in rapt silence and then her mouth opens into a horrified little ‘o’ and Yasha forges on. “And then, if they’re going to leave, should I just go first so I don’t have to watch them do it?”

“Yasha, we’re not going to leave you,” Jester says, almost demanding, voice cracking with the remnants of tears swallowed back.

“No, I know. But I’ve always left you guys,” She says, the night cold against the back of her throat. “And today, you almost left us. You weren’t going to come back from that. We would have gone to get you, but would you have tried to come back to us?”

“Of course!”

“Even if it meant leaving behind the Traveler?” Yasha asks, “Even if it meant letting him take his punishment?”

Jester bites her lower lip and Yasha watches as a brief conflict plays out across her body, fists clenching and unclenching. “That’s not a fair question. I can’t answer that.” She says it like an apology.

Yasha takes a breath and accepts it. She expects nothing less from her, the girl who painted flowers in her room, who stakes her whole self on what she would do for her friends.

She can taste iron and bitter wind like dread in her mouth. “That’s okay. Just— just don’t leave in the first place. We would be sad without you. I’m not even sure what we would do. Probably just mope around all day. Get nothing done.” There’s a ring of truth to the words that hit too close to home to be even remotely funny.

Then, there are arms around her, enveloping and warm. “I’m not going anywhere.” The words are muffled against her chest, likely to hide the quiet sound of rasping around more tears.

“Don’t leave,” Yasha says.

“Do you think,” Jester asks, “ having to ask all these questions is worth it because at least now I have more family to keep worrying about?”

There used to be a hollow in her heart, one that now purrs in some kind of satisfaction and she allows it it’s victory. “Yeah. In a weird way, I’m kind of glad to have someone to leave.” The arms grow tighter around her and Yasha squeezes back comfortingly. “I don’t want to, don’t get me wrong, but if I didn’t have anyone to leave,” She hesitates, “I’d just be running away. If I leave, I know someone will miss me. I would exist in my absence.”

“I would miss you. Beau would definitely.” Jester pulls back, the rim of her eyes a little darker than before.

Her lips curve into a smile without her prompting, though she can’t quite bring herself to care. ““I have no plans to go anywhere unless it’s where the rest of you are all headed.”

“Good.”

The cleric is stiller, and though she hadn’t seemed outright distraught in the dome earlier, now she seems steadier. A port in the storm rather than the raging waves themselves, standing firm instead crashing out and into herself over and over.

“Does asking these questions help you usually?”

Jester shows the nearly-empty velvet bag of candy to Yasha who notices she has to almost unclench her fingers from their stiff position around it. “Not nearly as much as the candies.”

“You think,” she echoes in a mimicry of their earlier conversation, “you’re ready to head back?”

“Yeah. Yasha?” Jester asks, tucking away the little bag.

“Thank you.”

“You’re important to me,” Yasha tells her and finds a little more joy in the soft smile that graces Jester’s mouth as she does. “Thank you for staying.”

She keeps her eyes on her friend’s back, her steps not quite the light skip they are usually, but lighter now. A part of her wishes she could take their group and bundle them away from the world, cruel and unfair to the best of them. Another part looks at the sea line, just barely visible over the tips of forest trees, and wonders how long into the night she would have to trek to make it there before the others wake. If Yasha squints, she can see a tiny light somewhere between the waves. A lighthouse on the shore, maybe, or a star touching down where the horizon meets the sea.

Ahead of her, Jester runs her fingers through the little velvet bag Yasha had given her over and over again like she can’t help but remind herself of the gift. A smile still rests on her lips.

#critical role #yasha nydoorin #jester lavorre #the mighty nein #fanfic #dialogue heavy #my fic #cr

[cadence-talle]

Moonlight Burst Into the Room

Pairing: Marella Redek/Linh Song

Wordcount: 2,203

TW: mentions of transphobia 

Notes: For @marellinh-week-2020​! Doesn’t totally fit any of the prompts besides First Kiss/Confession so let’s just pretend I posted it then instead of several days late 

Taglist: @everyonehasthoughts, @clearlykeefitz, @loverofallthingssmart, @a-lonely-tatertot, @enbies-and-felonies, @molly-sencen, @lemontarto, @appalyneinstitute1, @ruewen-and-rising, @silver-snow, @linhamon-roll, @hyperlollypop, @never-ever-too-many-fandoms, @keeper-of-the-lost-queers, @impostertamsong, @vibing-in-the-void, @yeetersofthelostcities, @mistythegirlfluxmess, @diamond-dreamerr, @we-have-no-bananas-today, @an-absolute-travesty, @callas-starkflower-stew

Linh has never had a nickname. 

When she was younger, still living with her parents, names were a point of frustration. Her parents never used pet names, which meant they always referred to her by her given name- the wrong name. Always the wrong name, until Linh had to tell them to stop. 

(That conversation was quiet, hushed, like her parents couldn’t quite believe it. They had simply stared at her when she said I’m a girl and then shared a long look.)

Her parents had called her Linh from then on, but it still felt strictly impersonal. As if a wall of water had sprung up between them and drowned any hope of parental affection. 

Once they were banished, names were hardly ever used. Elves at Exillium weren’t considered to have names; they were referred to in a group or not at all. So Linh grew accustomed to turning at a simple shout, to only hearing her name spoken by her brother. Lonely? Sure, but at least she didn’t have to hear that disappointed sigh of Linh whenever she messed up.

(The way Tam said her name wasn’t disappointed, not ever. But it was resigned, like he knew he was the only one who would ever say it. Like he had come to terms with the fact that they were going to fade into oblivion.)

Then Sophie turned up and ushered them into her friend group, into warmth and belonging and people talking to Linh. People saying her name.

Sophie’s group didn’t use nicknames much- besides Keefe, of course, who seemed to be in a competition against himself to come up with the most ridiculous titles for Sophie- but just hearing her name said in a way that told Linh people wanted her here was enough. 

And then Marella Redek becomes a bigger part of Linh’s life, her fiery temper charging into arguments and her endless vocabulary of pet names filling the air, and Linh doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

-/-

“Hey, sweetheart, could you grab me that box?”

Linh turns just in time to see Dex hand Marella the small wooden box in question with a confused look. The blond girl grins at him and opens the box, digging through its contents. “Ooh, a necklace! And… Prattles?”

She holds up the package for all to see. The three of them are the only kids at Havenfield today- the others are all off on various errands. Even Sophie’s out in Atlantis, shopping with Biana. Linh doesn’t mind much, though, even as they embark on the laborious task of sorting through the stuff in Edaline’s cluttered office. She’s still marveling at the fact that she has friends now. 

“They’re probably really stale by now,” Dex says. Marella shrugs, ripping off the top and popping a candy into her mouth. She makes a face.

“Oh, ew. Why did you two let me eat that?”

Linh giggles and Marella smiles at her. There’s a strange flush on the other girl’s cheeks, and Linh wonders if you can get sick from eating old Prattles. She hopes not. 

“He did warn you,” Linh points out. Marella puts a hand over her heart in mock insult. 

“Betrayal! I thought we were friends, sweetie.”

Linh shrugs nonchalantly, trying to hide the warmth she can feel creeping up her neck. Marella does this all the time, she reminds herself, and Linh just needs to get used to it. “Sorry. All’s fair in lov- in war and stale Prattles.”

Dex snorts, shooting Linh a knowing look. Linh blinks and he shakes his head. “We should get back to cleaning. Marella, put the Prattles down.”

Marella, who is apparently a three-year-old in the body of a fifteen-year-old, shoves two more Prattles into her mouth and pockets the drawstring bag that holds the pin. Dex rolls his eyes and turns to a huge green chest. Marella nudges Linh’s ankle with her foot. 

“You know, hon, this stuff really isn’t bad. You wanna try?” She holds out the box. 

Linh shakes her head and Marella puts the package away. Linh’s thoughts, though, can’t be dislodged so easily, and the word hon echoes in her mind for the rest of the day. 

-/-

The transition from Exillium to Foxfire was a hurried one, a few busy days of reading schedules and getting used to being around normal people again. It felt almost too fast in the moment, too quick for even the little they were leaving behind.

Linh has left a lot of things behind in her life. She doesn’t miss them most of the time, but on days like this- days where it’s quiet and cool and the winds whipping past her sound eerily like the whispers in her head- it’s hard not to remember. 

She wanders outside of Solreef, settling down under a tree where she won’t be directly visible from the house. The grass around her is still slightly damp with dew, and Linh tugs a few blades out of the ground to fiddle with. 

Tiergan’s house is very different from anywhere she’s ever lived. The rooms are large and sprawling but still cozy, perhaps made so by the various pillows and classified scrolls that are scattered across nearly every surface. It’s not the rugged landscape of Wildwood nor the smoothed edges of Choralmere, and Linh is glad. Things are calm here, but not so calm she’s afraid to walk on anything but tiptoe. 

She broke a vase, once. One of her mother’s heirlooms. Tam had been chasing her through the house and Linh hadn’t had a chance to slow down in time. Quan had shouted louder than she had ever heard, too angry to even call Linh by the right name. 

It’s been years since that event, but the disappointment still presses on Linh’s skin. Covers her like a heavy blanket woven from sad sighs and ignorant comments and constant dissatisfied looks. The idea that Linh would never be enough. 

Will never be enough, no matter what she does. 

(There have been too many conversations for her to ever disprove that.)

“Linh?”

Abruptly, Linh realizes she hasn’t been breathing. She breaks away from the fixed point she’s been staring at and pastes a smile on her face. 

“Marella! Hey, sorry, I must have forgotten you were coming today.”

“You didn’t,” the blond girl responds, sinking down next to Linh. “I wanted to surprise you. Are you okay?”

“What? I’m fine. Why?”

Marella gives her an utterly unimpressed look. 

“Hon. You looked about five seconds away from crying when I showed up. And that’s not a bad thing,” she hurries to add when Linh opens her mouth to apologize. “I just want to help, if I can.”

“I-” Linh trails off, staring at the ground. “I was just thinking. About… stuff. Names. Memories.”

“Huh.” Marella doesn’t press, which Linh is thankful for. “Names can be weird sometimes,” she says carefully, turning to face Linh. “My mom- on her better days, she calls me Ella.”

Linh blinks. “I thought you didn’t like being called Ella.” Marella had almost taken Keefe’s head off when he had called her that once. Marella shrugs. 

“I don’t know. It’s different when Mom does it. It tells me… she’s there, I guess. She’s there and she loves me.” Marella worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s hard to see, sometimes. What she’s going to do. What I’m supposed to do when she gets frantic or starts crying.” 

“I get that. Well. Not the ‘frantic and crying’ part, but I get not knowing what to do.”

Marella smiles, a tiny, crooked thing. “I thought you would, sweetie.”

Linh turns back to the landscape, staring out at it. Next to her, Marella shifts so she’s facing the same direction. Her eyes are still fixed on Linh, though. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the sweetie, but Linh speaks up a few moments later. 

“My parents… didn’t always remember to call me Linh.” She says, testing the waters. Marella’s head inclines a tiny bit, encouraging her to go on. 

So Linh does. She tells the whole story, all those lonely years in Choralmere and then the too-free years in Wildwood. She’s never had to tell anyone that before- Tam has always known, and neither of them needed to say it out loud. 

When she finishes, Marella is silent. Linh worries she’s made a huge mistake. 

“Sorry,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to- I mean, I know this changes-”

“Hey, darling.” Marella shifts to sit on her knees in front of Linh, leaning forward and grabbing her hands. “This doesn’t change anything, okay. I mean, obviously it does,” she says thoughtfully, “but you’re still Linh, okay? You’re still Linh and you’re still beautiful. And I totally understand if you don’t want me to make a big deal out of this, but if you do, I happen to throw legendary parties.” 

Linh laughs, a half-choked sound of relief. Marella settles back against the tree with a grin and they stare at the horizon again. 

“Thanks,” Linh says after a moment. Marella gives her a thumbs-up.

“What are friends for, right?”

“Yeah.” Yeah, Linh reminds herself. Friends. 

-/-

“Whoa. Hon, look at this.” Marella pulls a tiny marble out of a box, glittering pale yellow and about the size of her thumbnail. Linh would almost mistake it for a Councillor’s cache if it weren’t for the absence of tiny jewels inside. 

They’re back in Edaline’s office, digging through piles of junk, but this time it’s just the two of them. Linh is halfway sure that’s intentional, actually- even Grady and Edaline suddenly decided to take an impromptu trip to Mysterium today. They have Havenfield all to themselves. 

(That sentence seems to fill Linh’s stomach with the mechanical butterflies they accidentally unleashed earlier. She doesn’t think about that too hard.)

(If she does, she knows she’ll find out something very odd about why she always feels warm when Marella calls her a pet name.)

“What is it?” She asks Marella. The other girl lifts one shoulder. 

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty. Let’s see...”

She taps the marble with two fingers and the lights cut out. They come back a few seconds later, Marella grinning sheepishly.

“Whoops. Sorry, sweetheart-”

“Stop calling me that.”

The words are out before Linh can stop them, and she flounders. “I mean- I just-” She shakes her head. “I can’t. Not when I know…” You don’t mean them, she finishes mentally. It hurts too much to hear you throw them out that easily. 

Marella’s expression shutters and she looks away. “Right,” she says, sounding oddly defeated. “Of course.”

She turns around, muttering “of course you would have figured it out” under her breath. Linh frowns and, since her mouth and her brain seem to be operating on different planes of existence today, says,

“What? Figured out what?” Her tone is almost challenging, but even Linh isn’t entirely sure why. Marella turns back around, arms crossed defensively.

“Really. You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Marella throws up her hands. “Fine. I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted?” Her voice drops lower, less frustrated and more finished. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be weird. I’ll get over it.”

“You. You like me?” 

Marella doesn’t respond, already sorting through another pile. Linh takes a deep breath and uses what’s left of her courage. 

“I didn’t know that. I wanted you to stop calling me pet names because I thought they didn’t mean anything to you.”

Marella pauses. Straightens up. 

“They did,” she says, so softly it’s almost imperceptible. “They all did.” 

“They meant something to me too.” 

Edaline’s office is quiet. Linh doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, tries not to even think until Marella turns her head. 

“I hear there’s a really good restaurant in downtown Atlantis,” she says. It’s a question, an outstretched hand. Linh smiles and takes it. 

“That sounds amazing,” she responds. “Honey.”

The marble slips from Marella’s fingers and the lights turn off again. Marella’s smile, though, is enough to brighten the room. 

-/-

When she was little, Linh never had a nickname. 

They were too frivolous for her parents, too unnecessary for the people who sometimes forgot to even call her Linh. Nicknames weren’t needed for someone who barely had a name at all. 

Nicknames are never really needed, but they’re used here. 

“Mare,” she calls across their small kitchen, “we need to go.”

“I’m here! I’m ready,” Marella responds breathlessly, pecking Linh on the cheek as she rushes to pull her coat on. 

“Bi is going skin us alive if we’re late to Sophie’s party.”

“Good thing we’re not late then, sweetie.” Marella grins at her and moves out of the door. They are late, actually, but neither of them really care. 

It hits Linh sometimes, how very different her life is now. She has friends, and family, and a wonderful wife who deserves the world. 

(The ring on her finger seems to shine. That conversation was feather-light and delighted, a gasped yes and cheers from all their friends.)

“Hon, come on!”

She has a nickname now. Dozens, in fact. But she also has a name.

Linh Redek steps out the door. 

#kotlc #marellinh #marellinh week 2020 #marella redek #dex dizznee #linh song #my writing #lynn rambles

[amanda-teaches]

Into the Woods (1)

Part 1 of 2

Summary: When disaster strikes a fairy tale forest wedding, Y/N must take charge to save the lives of herself and her friends. Will she be able to survive being hunted while trapped in the woods?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Nightmare for @spndeanbingo

Word Count: 2979

Warnings: Swearing, show level violence and gore, suspense, minor character death, fear-filled situations, sarcasm, jerky guys, random moments of compensating humor. It’s basically a Supernatural thriller.

A/N: About 64,000 years ago, I entered a challenge the wonderful @foreverwayward was having for hitting 500 followers. Well, there wasn’t a due date, because she’s the sweetest, so I kept saying I would get to it and get to it, and then I never did. Well, surprise, here it is! This is the first part of a 2-part miniseries, and the quotes for the challenge will be included in the second part, which is posting tomorrow. Enjoy!!!

The moonlight, shining through the dark green trees, softly reflected on the string lights that were hung between the branches. They were blowing gently in the breeze, making the dense woods feel like an otherworldly fairy tale.

Your best friend, Lindsay, had spent days painstakingly transforming the unassuming woodland into a heavenly escape for her wedding, with long white tables strewn about, covered with crystal centerpieces and extravagant floral displays. As you watched her dance blissfully under the twinkling lights with her brand-new husband, Aidan, you knew all her hard work had more than paid off.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched her, sipping your glass of champagne off to the side of the clearing. Your feet were killing you, so you slipped off your heels, easily hiding your bare feet under the long hem of your dress.

“They look great together, huh?”

You spun around to find one of the groomsmen, what was his name? Brian? No, no...Brandon. Yes, Brandon, leaning against a nearby tree, looking you up and down appreciatively. “What? Oh, yeah,” you answered offhandedly. “They’re great together.”

You started to turn away, not wanting to encourage his obvious interest in you, but, suddenly, he was by your side, his alcohol-coated breath hitting your face. “I noticed you’re not dancing with anyone.”

You leaned away from him slightly, wanting to toe the line between polite enough not to make a scene and clear enough that he knew he was this close to being punched in the face. “No, I’m not,” you said firmly, crossing your arms across your chest.

But, he wasn’t taking the hint. “Well, you are now, baby!” he shouted, swaying a little as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the dance floor. You tried to pull back, but his grip was strong, and, before you knew it, you were on the dance floor, barefoot and struggling.

“Brandon, really, I don’t want to dance,” you insisted, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp. “Please let me go.”

He didn’t even hear you, closing his eyes instead and beginning to move his hips back and forth, your hand still trapped in his. You began to look around frantically for help, and your eyes zeroed in on Lindsay, who instantly registered your panic and left her husband’s side to push her way through the crowded dance floor to get to you.

She hadn’t even made it halfway when you felt Brandon unexpectedly drop your hand. Surprised, you instinctively stepped back, spinning his way as you did, but what you saw sent a shock of terror straight to your heart.

Brandon was no longer standing in front of you. Instead, he was laying at your feet, a massive, gaping hole where his heart had been.

The scream that tore from your throat was almost primal, as if the instinctual response of terror would chase away the unblinking, hollow eyes staring back at you. But, they didn’t disappear, not even when you squeezed your eyes shut and prayed that they would.

You didn’t think it could get any worse, but then you opened your eyes. What you saw was a living nightmare.

Standing there, over Brandon’s lifeless body, was a man, but when he turned to face you, you realized he was hardly a man at all. He was more like a monster, a monster with long claws and razor-sharp teeth, and he was looking right at you.

You screamed again, this time urgently, desperately, only stopping when you realized that more than just your scream echoed around you. Looking over his shoulder, you saw three more monster people rush into the clearing, their fangs bared as they began to grab guests at random, flinging them across the woods like they were no more than rag dolls.

Your eyes shifted, meeting the golden, distorted ones of the monster in front of you, and you did the only thing you could do: you ran. Spinning around, you sprinted away, pausing only to grab Lindsay’s hand and pull her terrified form with you. “Come on, we gotta go!” you shouted, trying to rally as many people around you to follow you as you could. Most were too panicked, but a few reacted, including Aidan, who fell into step beside you, picking his frozen wife up into his arms without even breaking his stride.

You raced into the shelter of the trees, your small group following your lead. Behind you, you could hear the cracking of branches and the rustling of leaves as at least one of the monsters followed you, but you pushed on, somehow ignoring the stinging in your side and burning in your chest to keep running.

Eventually, the noise behind you dropped off, and you slowed, taking stock of your surroundings. You were deep in the forest, somewhere distinctly unfamiliar, so probably in the exact opposite direction of the safety of the main road and the parking lot where you had all left your cars. Aidan and Lindsay were still next to you, Lindsay now standing on her own feet, but still looking somewhat shaken. A few other people were milling around, but there was no sign of the monsters that had been chasing you.

“I think we lost them,” you panted out, clutching your side as you tried to catch your breath.

“Are you sure?” Aidan asked, protectively moving closer to his wife while he looked back over his shoulder.

“No, I’m not fucking sure, Aidan! I’m not exactly an expert on evading fanged monsters who pull out people’s hearts, now am I?!”

Lindsay’s eyes whipped up at you, your outburst startling her out of her shock. “Y/N!”

You shook your head, closing your eyes for just a second. “Sorry...I’m sorry, I know you’re just worried. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Aidan smiled, giving you a reassuring gaze. “It’s ok. What do we do now?”

You looked around, taking in the growing number of people that had gathered around you. There couldn’t have been more than a dozen. A dozen out of nearly a hundred wedding guests. You hoped more than anything else the others had just found a different way to escape. “Um, well, obviously, we can’t go back the way we came.”

“Obviously,” Lindsay laughed, more out of fear than anything. “I've even watched enough horror movies to know that.”

Aidan reached down and grabbed her hand, calming her, and you couldn’t help but wish you had someone to do that for you right now. “Right, so we keep going.”

A man on the other side of you stepped forward, his suit ripped and tousled. “Wait, shouldn’t we try to get back to our cars, get help?”

You shook your head. “It’s too risky. We don’t even know what direction the parking lot is in, and those monsters are still out there. We need to find shelter and hunker down, at least until morning. Then, we can try going for help.”

He glowered. “Who put you in charge?”

You turned towards him, raising your chin resolutely. “No one, but I’m not about to be an idiot and stay out here any longer waiting to be killed. If you want to, help yourself.” You dismissed him, looking back at everyone else. “Anyone still have their cell phone on them?”

A few shook their heads, but a young man in the back held up his. “I already checked. No service.”

“Fantastic…” you muttered, spinning around slowly as you tried to come up with another idea. You were really grateful you’d taken off your heels right about now, but the forest floor wasn’t doing any favors for your feet. As you spun away from the group, you spotted a flash of light, the reflection of the moonlight on...something.

“We should go that way,” you said, pointing. “I saw something.”

You started to take a step, but Mr. Tousled Suit grabbed your arm. “Hold on there. How do you know it’s not the killer things? Maybe they’re leading us into a trap.”

Glaring up at him, you wrenched your arm from his grasp. “Because whatever it was, it reflected in the moonlight, which means it’s some kind of glass or metal, and the ‘killer things’ that attacked us weren’t robots, the last time I looked. It could be a house, with a phone, or a ranger station or something.”

Aidan stepped forward, flanking you. “Y/N’s right, Tim. We need help, and whatever she saw could be it. Besides, it’s not like we have a lot of options. We can’t stay out here.”

“Fine,” he huffed, stalking ahead towards where you had pointed. You hesitated for a second, turning to whisper to Aidan.

“Your side of the family?”

He smirked. “Annoying cousin. Every family’s got one, am I right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, for what felt like the first time in years, but then reality came crashing down on you again, and you stiffened. “We should get going.”

Aidan nodded and grabbed Lindsay’s hand again, quickly following you deeper into the forest. Soon, the three of you had caught up to Tim, The Tousled Suit, as you were calling him, with the others quietly following you.

Your guard was up, and you swore you jumped at every little noise. But, you kept going, determined not to be that girl in every horror movie who acts like an idiot and draws the monsters right to her. You were definitely channeling your best Emily Blunt right now, but, inside, you were frickin’ terrified.

After a few hundred yards, you started to notice the silhouette of a cabin forming in the distance, and you got excited, picking up your pace. You pictured a warm, welcoming woodsman with some kind of satellite phone and enough emergency supplies to survive a war. But, as you got closer, you quickly realized that the cabin was worn down and dirty. It probably hadn’t been occupied in years.

“It’s deserted,” Lindsay whispered.

Tim looked at you smugly. “Great plan, Wonder Woman.”

Okay, this one you really were going to punch. Aidan must’ve read your intention, because he stepped between the two of you. “It’s still better than nothing.”

You nodded, actively choosing to ignore your urge to kick the asshole in the balls. “Yeah. At least this will be defensible until morning in case those things come back. Let’s go.”

You led the way, carefully stepping up the rotting steps, each one creaking under your bare feet. “Remind me to get tested for tetanus if we survive this,” you mumbled. 

Stepping onto the porch, you hesitated as you reached for the doorknob, your mind flashing to the possibility that this might be the monsters’ hide out. But, you knew you didn’t have a choice, so you grasped the handle, slowly pushing the door open.

To your relief, the one-room cabin was empty. You moved to the bathroom to clear it just in case, like you’d seen on cop shows, but there was no one there. It really was deserted. “We should be safe here.”

You moved around the room as the others filed in, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. You spotted a loose floorboard, and dropped to your knees, starting to pull it up.

A dramatic sigh came from behind you. “What are you doing now?”

You really were going to kill Tim. “Getting us a weapon. You got a problem with that?”

Aidan dropped down beside you as another sigh echoed behind you. “Here, I’ll help.”

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“No problem,” he said, his voice straining as he helped you pull. “Can’t have my wife’s best friend taking all the chances alone, now can I?”

With a final tug, he yanked it loose, holding it out to you victoriously. “Here.”

You smiled and grabbed it with both hands, when you heard a creaking sound coming from outside. The stairs.

“Quick,” you whispered, gesturing everyone back with a wave of your hand. “Against the back wall, now.”

Aidan moved like lightning, getting everyone back and moving to stand in front of them, his hands up, while you made your way to the door, wooden plank at the ready. As you watched the doorknob turn, you held your breath and raised the plank up over your shoulder, ready to bring it down the second the monster entered.

It all happened in an instant. The door opening, the shadows in the doorway, you bringing the wood down, only for it to be stopped mid air while everyone around you started to scream.

“Woah, woah, woah,” a deep voice hit you. You followed the hand holding the other side of your weapon, up the arm until you made eye contact with a pair of deep, green eyes. Human eyes, you were relieved to see.

“Who are you?”

The mystery man chuckled. “I think I should be asking you that question, sweetheart.” He pulled the wood plank out of your grasp, looking at it before tossing it on the ground. “Not very often a beautiful woman tries to hit me over the head with a 2 by 4.” He paused and gave you a once over. “Especially not one in an evening gown. Love the look.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly as he pushed his way past you, followed by an even taller man with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Hey, wait a second!” you stammered, finding your voice. “That’s mine. You can’t just come in here and take things. You have no idea what’s going on out there.”

He glanced over at you and grinned. “Oh trust me, sweetheart, I know exactly what’s going on. And, that little wooden plank’s not going to do anything against a werewolf.”

“A were…” your voice trailed off as your mind raced to comprehend what he’d just said. No, it couldn’t be. It was impossible. But, then you flashed back to the golden eyes and sharp fangs, and an involuntary shudder ran through you. Nothing was impossible.

“Okay,” you started, your voice thankfully coming out a lot stronger than you felt, as you closed the door and turned towards the two men. “If you think you’re such an expert, then what will hurt a werewolf?”

The green eyed man’s grin returned, but this time it was softer, more natural, like he was pleasantly surprised by your reaction. “What?” you asked, your sarcasm returning. “Did you expect me to faint or run away in the opposite direction?”

He winked at you. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You stepped forward, standing toe to toe with him, although you had to look up slightly. “Yeah, well, I saw those things in action. Monster, werewolf, whatever, I know we can’t afford to underestimate them. So, just tell me what I need to know instead of pulling this whole mystery hero act, okay?”

His eyes widened at that comment, but his smile didn’t fade. If anything, it grew. Before he could respond, the other stranger spoke up. “I’m Sam, and this,” he said, gesturing to the man you were currently staring down, “is my brother, Dean. We’re hunters. We hunt supernatural creatures like the werewolves that attacked you.” He turned his gaze to Lindsay and Aidan, taking in their attire. “It was your wedding? I’m so sorry.”

Lindsay nodded, stifling a little sob, and Aidan wrapped his arm around her. Your bravado fell from your face as you heard your best friend, and you thought you saw Dean’s eyes soften in response, but they hardened again at the sound of rustling leaves outside. “Sammy.”

His brother responded instantly, dropping the duffel bag he was holding and lowering to his knees to unzip it. He pulled out two silver knives and a gun, handing the knives to Dean, who tucked one in his belt, keeping the other one in his hand. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Silver,” Dean said, gesturing to the knife. “These can kill a werewolf.” He moved to the window, rubbing a circle in the dust so he could see out. “Sammy, we gotta secure the door.”

“Hold on,” you interrupted, drawing the attention of both men. “Aren’t you going to get us out of here? With your weapons, we could get back through the woods to the main road.”

Dean shook his hand. “It’s too dangerous. We’re outnumbered, and we can’t protect all of you with two knives and a gun. We’d be sitting ducks. Besides, it’s too late for that. They’re already here, we wouldn’t be able to get past them anyway.”

“They are?!” you exclaimed, pushing past him to look out the window. “How’d they find us that fast?”

“Probably the same way we did,” Sam said. “Followed the trail you left.”

Dean grunted. “Yeah, you didn’t exactly hide the fact that you came this way. Broken branches, footprints. We were tracking the wolves when we heard them attack, so then we had to start tracking all of you. It wasn’t hard.”

“Sorry,” you muttered. “Next time I run for my life from supernatural killer wolves, I’ll be more discreet.”

Dean chuckled, bringing a small blush to your face. God, Y/N, focus. “Okay, so they’re waiting out there, then we stay in here, right?”

“Mhmm,” Sam said, nodding. He turned to pick out Aidan and Tim. “Hey, help me move this?”

Together, the three of them pushed a large wooden table, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room, in front of the door. “There, that should hold, for a while at least.”

Dean nodded, only half listening, continuing to stare out the window, his eyes darting back and forth at any sign of movement. You looked back up at him, taking in the determined set of his jaw. It surprisingly made you feel just a little bit safer. “So, now what?”

To be continued...Read the exciting conclusion here.

Forevers- @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @impala-dreamer @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @be-amaziing @jalove-wecallhimdean @there-must-be-a-lock @mysterious-398 @hannahindie @emoryhemsworth @ohmychuckitssamanddean @wi-deangirl77 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ericaprice2008 @masksandtruths @roxyspearing @squirrel-moose-winchester @sweetpeamoose @babypieandwhiskey @deans-dirty-writer @roxy-davenport @heyitscam99 @spnbaby-67 @mogaruke @atc74 @dolphincliffs @closetspngirl @maddiepants @pinknerdpanda @focusonspn @deanwanddamons @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ 

Dean Tags- @akshi8278​ @whimsicalrobots​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @alexwinchester23​ @squirrelnotsam​ @deanwinchesterswitch​

#foreverwaywards500 #spndeanbingo #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #part 1 of 2

[awesometheydontknowiamhere]

Knockout

Diego Hargreeves X Plus Sized!Reader

Requested: Oh, yes! Multiple requests in my inbox.

“Any plus size Diego fics coming soon?”

“Can you do another Diego x plus size reader?”

“Could I request a Diego x plus size fic maybe where she’s a badass boxer but she is also kinda insecure when like Diego asks her out maybe thinks it’s a joke or something?”

Summary: You have it all. You’re a revered fighter, have an excellent support system of friends and family and spend most of your evenings with your crush, sweaty and hot on a mat. But when a chance at finding loves knocks on your door in the form of your crush, Diego Hargreeves, will you let him in or shut him out?

A/N: A few things I’d like to mention.

1.    There’s a Sylvia Plath quote hiding in here. Let me know if you find it.

2.    I absolutely love that so many people requested a plus size reader fic (I have 24 requests out of which 3 were for this)

3.    I spent nearly two full hours reading up about boxing terminology, just in case.

4.    I recently saw Never Back Down so boxing is all I can think about anyway.

5.    I might have changed the request a little bit because the reader suddenly had a life of her own and the story refused to be written in that particular way.

 6.    All of you, thin, fat, chubby, curvy, super tall, super short, somewhere in between, I love each and every one of you.

7. This could possibly be the prequel to Store Bought Hugs.

Warning: None. Maybe a bit of language.

Diego Hargreeves Taglist:  @wh3n-1t-ra1ns-1t-p0urs   @imultifandomstuff @w0nder-marie@chloemac86 @theladywholivesonthemoon   @hemogobllin@pansexualpaperdragons @gorgeourrific-nerd  @purplezebra68 @vividholland@bands-and-shietz @onlydeanandjensen @slither-in-a-half @reblogserpent@missscarlett1802 @lovelyheadrush   @mrsdiegohargreeves @mrsdiegohargreeves   @katylovescats @vividholland @lilithsweetghost@ynm1505 @siriusjohnpotter @ratfuckb0y @energy-for-fandoms-not-your-shit @writingsbychlo

Words: 1620

You ducked and avoided Diego’s approaching fist, and threw an uppercut which he skillfully dodged. This was routine for the two of you, pairing up together to practice anything from old school boxing to mixed martial arts. Diego needed it to be a good vigilante and have an outlet for his anger, though he wouldn’t admit that to anybody. As for you, you just loved the blood singing through your veins, sheer power flowing through your muscles.

You were quite the fighter in the gym, paralleled only to Diego, and he too, was aware of your repertoire of deadly moves.

Currently, he was trapped in a Peruvian necktie choke.

“Give it up, Hargreeves. You know you’re not going to last longer,” you said as you tightened the hold.

He remained silent. A smart move, considering he only had a limited air supply.

“Either you tap out or you break the fuck out of it. The clock’s ticking,” you said.

A few seconds passed and you tightened your hold on him, using the strength in your arms.

People were often deceived by your size. Nobody could believe your agility and strength as an MMA fighter until they saw you in action, thanks to your plus sized body. Quite a lot of spectators had trouble comprehending your skill but little did they know that you could knock an opponent out in a minute flat (you were known in the MMA circles for doing that thrice).

You hear a grunt followed by a tap on the mat and you immediately release the man, helping him onto his back.

“Hey, breathe. Long, deep breaths,” you said, burying the concern in your voice.

He simply nodded and you gave him a moment to adjust, rubbing his chest, trying not to feel him up under the thin, sweat- soaked t-shirt.

“Damn, baby. You are vicious,” he said as he sat up.

You smirked and both of you rose up, headed towards the water coolers.

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Only if you promise to actually put up a fucking fight,” you said, laughing.

He draped his arm around your shoulders and your heart skipped a beat.

“I do it so that you don’t cry yourself to sleep Y/N,” he said.

He walked you to the door like always and waved goodbye.

You walked the rest of the way home feeling warmth in your heart as you tried to hold on to the memory of his arm touching your bare shoulder a little longer.

Your crush on Diego wasn’t new. You fell for his nocuous moves and dirty, dry sense of humor. And when you caught a glimpse of him changing into a tank top one evening, there was no turning back.

Each night before bed you replayed your practice with him, trying not to combust from the sheer emotion you felt when you thought of his hands on your body. The moments where he pinned you to the mat and you waited several moments before you got out of his hold.

The next day at practice Diego was late. You quickly warmed up and picked up a pair of battle ropes. You bent your knees and got into position, visualizing the motion in your head and replicating it with your hands. You dropped the ropes and began walking over to the bench, to give yourself a minute as well as wait for Diego to show up.  

You halted to a stop, surprised to see him leaning against a stationary pole with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Hargreeves, what are you doing? Are you seriously standing here and checking out these girls as they work out?”

The corners of his mouth turned.

“I was watching you.”

A charged moment passed and you got a hold of your sensibilities.

“Yuck, does that line ever work?”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“It’s not a line,” Diego whispered and walked towards the mat, ready for your paired practice fights.

A couple hours passed and Diego emerged victorious, courtesy the new fluttering in your heart since his comment.

 He helped you pack your gym bag, his caramel arms flexing with each move. You stood there, silent and observing, swooning a little and falling for him a little more.

“Come on, I will walk you home,” Diego kindly offered.

You snapped out of your reverie.

“Diego, really, it’s fine. I can walk two blocks by myself, thank you very much,” your voice a smidge sarcastic.

“Don’t be like that Y/N, I want to walk you home. And  I think a bit of fresh air will do me some good,” he said, toeing the floor.

You immediately felt a pang of guilt. You knew he lived in the gym, in the cold basement. His desire for fresh air was understandable and you were hardly going to say no to a walk with him. Despite of what you had said earlier, you agreed and he swung his arm around you and both of you walked out into the street.

Thirty minutes and a quick detour to a smoothie shack later, you arrived at your building.

“Thanks for walking me home, Hargreeves,” you said.

“Thanks for letting me,” he replied with a smile.

He handed you your gym bag, your fingers brushing briefly against each other.

You wished him a good night and turned towards the door. As you took a step towards it you felt a warm hand around your wrist, leaving your hand outstretched between your bodies.

You turned to face him and he stepped closer, his hand dropping to yours.

Your heart was neatly lodged in your throat as you took in the proximity of your bodies.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Diego,” your said, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’d like to take you out, Y/N, on a proper date. Roses, moonlight, the whole deal,” he said.

He registered the alarm on your face before you could comprehend it.

“Or anything else. Whatever you want, babe. We could go to boxing match and cheer or take another walk,” he said in a single breath, words gushing out.

You closed your eyes for a moment and reopened them and stepped back, giving yourself a little space to think.

“Diego, why? Is this your idea of practical joke? Why are you asking me out, because that would actually imply that you like me and why on earth would you like me?” you asked becoming increasingly agitated.

“Why do you think I like you?” he quirked his eyebrow, the scar glistening under the city lights.

He stepped closer taking both of your hands in his.

“You are you. Unapologetically and unabashedly you. Very few people do this anymore. It’s too risky. First of all, it’s a hell of a responsibility to be yourself. It’s much easier to be somebody else or nobody at all. And you own every single part of that.”

You were stunned, speechless even. All your words had scrambled out onto the street after his declaration.

“And well. You kick my ass at MMA so that’s also incredibly hot,” he said with a chuckle making you laugh with him.

“You’re being awefully quiet. Please, say yes. I promise you won’t regret it.”

You smiled up at him, getting lost in you dark eyes framed by the scars on his face.

You leaned into him, your lips an inch away from his ear.

“Pick me up at 8 on Friday,” you said, placing a chaste kiss on his scruffy cheek, before running off into your building.

You rushed up the flight of stairs and ran into your apartment, looking out the window.

“Don’t you dare be late, Hargreeves. I have stockpile of chokes you haven’t even heard of,” you scream out into the street with a laugh.

“Wouldn’t even dream of it,” he yelled back.

He waved and blew you a kiss and then disappeared into the street.

You relaxed into your couch, replaying the conversation in your head, your stomach populous with butterflies.

You sighed a romance novel sigh.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

#diego hargreeves #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fandom #tua fandom #david castañeda #diego hargreeves edit #diego hargreeves x reader #david castaneda #diego hargreeves imagines #diego hargreeves smut #diego hargreeves fluff #diego hargreeves x reader fluff #diego hargreeves x plus size! reader #the umbrella academy fanfic #klaus hargreeves #the umbrella academy fluff #tua fanfic #thirsty for diego hargreeves #tua imagines #diego hargreeves fanfic #body positive #boxer au #diego is daddy #diego x reader

[theincompetentgenius]

Could I get a life generator for Dangerous Fellows? I’m 5’6” with short brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses. I wear super bright clothing (80’s style). I hate my body weight (133 lbs) and wish I could lose weight. I love to make people laugh and smile. I do acting and drawing (a lot). I love playing funny roles and tend to goof around a lot. Deep down I’m really insecure and scared of commitment because I’ve always been made fun of by guys. I’m in my sisters shadow, and am sick of it.

Before I start, I just wanted to say that your body weight sounds perfect to me! If you ever feel insecure or down about it, feel free to talk to me. Don’t hate yourself because I’m sure you’re beautiful. Also, I’m sorry about the delay, life’s been a bit hectic lately.

Anywho, your request is finished! I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you for your interest in the world of Dangerous Fellows. You will be reborn shortly. The simulation will start in 3........ 2...... 1........

B A C K G R O U N D

Your life was a colorful one. At school, you were the perfect theater kid that was friends with everyone. Your grades were average, but you made up for it in your talent. Since elementary school, you dedicated most of your time towards acting. You thought about getting a part-time job, but it took time away from practicing your lines. Any time there was a play, you always got the role you wanted. While you had the skills to play the protagonists, you often chose to play the comedic relief. For you, the humor came naturally. Your presence on stage made the entire room light up with laughter and joy.  Needless to say, your life was as perfect as you wanted it to be.

On the day of the apocalypse, you were getting ready to perform the final show of the school year: a musical. You were getting ready in the dressing room, dusting a dash of highlight on your cheeks. Next to your mirror, the clock read 7:25 PM. Only five minutes until the show began. Your stomach was filled with excitement and nervousness. When you arrived at the left-wing (which was covered by the curtains), the entire cast had arrived except for the lead actor. He was never late to a show. Besides, you had seen him in the dressing room a few minutes ago. Where could he have gone?

The director asked the same question. She began to panic as no one had an answer for her. You went to look for him as you weren’t in the play during the beginning. First, you searched the bathrooms. Then you peeked in the dressing room. After that, you ran around the school but there was no sign of him. The last place you could think of was the area outside of the theater entrance.

When you arrived outside, there was a body lying on the ground. You walked closer. It was the body of the main actor. You didn’t want to touch it, but you couldn’t leave him there. He could be alive. So you stopped right in front of it and crouched down. His skin was grey and his hair had fallen out. He was unrecognizable. 

He opened his eyes. They were yellow with no pupils. A scream escaped your lips as you crawled back. The boy grabbed your leg and you kicked him off. You got up and saw a bunch of monsters behind him. They looked like zombies from the movies.

Instead of staying around, you did what your gut commanded. You ran.

F R I E N D S

Harry

After you were taken under the wing of Lawrence and his crew, life was rocky. No one full trusted you (besides Judy) or saw any useful skill within you. Although you were a great actor and terrific artist, there wasn’t any reason to use them. To prevent being made fun of, you grew more introverted and stayed out of everyone’s way. They couldn’t bother you for not being a nuisance.

Actually, they could.

During another meeting, everyone was discussing the plans for the upcoming week. This included night watches, food supply, and possible trips outside of the school. You hadn’t said much because you didn’t want to be involved (or mainly, get yelled at). Besides, you learned more about the way things worked around here, which would make you more useful to the team. 

“I don’t understand why we have to keep her around! Not only is she probably infected, but she also doesn’t have any talents. She’s a waste of space,” Scarlett said.

You roll your eyes. Here we go for the millionth time. To think that the meeting had almost ended without her incessant yelling. But such a dream was too good to be true. 

“Scarlett. Please don’t yell at her. Suspicion will only tear our group apart,” Harry spoke.

“No, she’ll tear us apart! I don’t see why you don’t understand that!” Scarlett jabbed a finger at you and ran out of the classroom. That was one way to end the meeting.

Harry approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m really sorry about that, Scarlett can be a bit overwhelming. Please don’t hold it against her.”

You give a small smile. “As long as she doesn’t turn me into a zombie, I think I can handle her.”

“I’d hope not,” Harry said.

You cocked your head with wide eyes. “Wait, maybe I am the zombie. I’ll eat your brrrraiiiiinssss.”

Harry laughed. “Just don’t do that around Scarlett and I think you’ll be fine.”

R O M A N C E

Lawrence

It was time another nightwatch and this time Lawrence had chosen to go with you. You had gone with him once before, but the two of you were attacked by a mob of zombies. The only reason you guys made it out was that Lawrence had stalled for enough time to get help from the rest of the crew. Needless to say, you were traumatized.

This time, Lawrence had brought extra weapons. He handed a baseball to you and briefly showed you the weak points of the undead in the case another zombie attacked the two of you. After a few practice swings, you felt somewhat ready to go out in the dark.

During the start of the nightwatch, there was a large amount of silence to prevent getting unwanted attention from the zombies. The two of you scouted the back of the school and found that most of the zombies weren’t there. While zombie had crept up on you, you managed to smash its skull with your baseball bat. Lawrence was highly impressed.

“That was really good. Zion might have some competition,” He said

“Thanks,” You responded.

After completing the nightwatch, the two of you returned to the main classroom where the meetings were held. Surprisingly, the room was empty when you guys arrived. The only thing that kept you company was a silver shimmer from the moonlight. You plopped on the closest chair. Frankly, you were exhausted from all the walking and wanted a good night sleep. However, Lawrence insisted on waiting for the other members to return.

“How are you finding it here?” Lawrence asked.

“It’s nice. Besides the issue of other members verbally attacking me, I like the teamwork we have here. We get a lot more done when we are united,” You responded.

Lawrence nodded with a smile. “That’s what I’ve always said. I know not everyone is fond of the idea, but I’m glad you see the logic behind it.”

You tapped your fingers against the wooden desk. “But I can’t help but wonder, how much closer is our teamwork to bringing us out of here? It’s not possible to stay here forever.”

Lawrence shook his head. “I understand, but the circumstances don’t seem safe enough to leave. However, there has been a notable decrease in zombies, so we might be leaving soon.”

“I know, I just don’t want things to end here. I want to be able to flesh out my future by making a name for myself in acting and finally stepping out of my sister’s shadow,” You sighed.

Lawrence grabbed a chair and sat next to you. He placed his hand on his jaw and looked in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get out. That’s a promise.”

F I N A L   F A T E

A/N: Ok, so I changed it ever-so-slightly so that Lawrence was not a yandere or evil psychopath because I know getting an ending with psychopath Lawrence is not fun or worthwhile.

The entire crew had grown sick of the school. Everyone had been cooped up in the same five rooms for way too long and it was time to go elsewhere. However, Lawrence was still unsure of leaving the school due to the possible risks that came with the expenditure. After growing extremely close to him, you assured Lawrence that it was the right course of action. 

It was not long until the poster of the safe zone appeared on the sides of the school. Eugene was the first one to find them and nearly toppled over in glee when handing it over to the crew. Everyone was so excited, except for Lawrence.

You walked to the classroom, looking for Eugene. Instead, you saw a tensed Lawrence pacing around the room. It was unusual for him to look so worried.

“What’s wrong Lawrence? You looked stressed,” You asked.

Lawrence looked up in surprise. “Oh, hello. I’ve just been thinking about some things.”

“What things? You can talk to me. Don’t bottle everything inside of you,” You took his hand.

He sighed. “It’s just that I enjoy the dynamic we’ve created here. I’m in charge while Zion and Eugene are the brawns. Harry is our peace-keeper while Eugene is well........... Eugene. Then we have you, who-”

Lawrence stops and leans towards your face. “Who stopped me from falling down a dark path and you don’t even know it.”

You placed your hand on his cheek. “I’m not sure what that means, but I do know that you won’t lose anyone after going to the safe zone. If you stay here, there is no guarantee that we’ll all make it out alive.” 

Lawrence took a moment to think and sighed. “You’re right. Gather everyone and tell them that we will be leaving tomorrow at dawn. The zombies are least active then.”

You nodded with a smile.

The trip to the safe zone was much more difficult than expected. Although there were fewer zombies on school grounds, there were much more on the streets. Unfortunately, the crew had lost Scarlett and Jay to the flesh-eating monsters. But the rest of you had made it there without a scratch.

Upon arrival in the safety zone, you first searched for your family. Luckily, they all had made it there without any problem due to the help of other friendly strangers. You introduced Lawrence and the crew to your family and spent the rest of your time bringing joy to the children of the safety zone through acting.

T H E  E N D

[erethesilverking-blog]

End Haven - Chapter 7

It has been two months since the chapter 6. There will be an explanation why at the end.

Please enjoy.

The Previous Chapter

The First Chapter

Chapter 7

Fey Frey in Fray; The Hall

Pieter had always been extremely lucky. Had been.

For the entire span of his years, he was never deprived of sight in any way. His eyes had seen unblinded for as long as they had sat in his head, and the only weakness that age brought was a sensitivity to lights and a fluttering exhaustion that followed waking hours. But Pieter had never failed an eye exam, never needed glasses, and never knew what it was to not be able to see.

But as Pieter cartwheeled through the air, he discovered that the rushing air peeled up his eyelids and made his tear ducts strain with the effort of keeping his eyes moist. A watery film covered his vision, rendering Pieter totally oblivious to the great peril he was in, visually.

And what a sight his distress was!

The pale staircase coiled about the man, whipping violently about as he fell farther down its length. It became a fawn serpent that glowed against the rich earth of the tree’s wood, illuminated by the burning moonlight that peered through every westward opening. Through those holes had come bugs that glowed with fluorescent light, and they became golden streaks of light as Pieter himself streaked past them.

The light, without warning, mingled with other, differently colored lights; There were beams of scarlet, and sea-green, and soul blue, and their glow hide the startled faces behind.

Startled faces indeed, for those where the rest of the Fey-Folk, who had been hoping to find their guest. They, like Léan, hadn’t known about the effects of gravity on Striders, and had assumed that Pieter had made his way to the lower levels by this time.

A few Fey, ruffled by the ballistic, peered down curiously to watch the tangle of limbs descend from view. “How strange!” they muttered, as two of their own streaked after Pieter.

Léan and Coen were two arrows, following their guest; Arms were by their sides,  knees unbent, toes pointed down (or up, rather) in the effort to catch up to Pieter. Their eyes watered as they drew closer to the screaming human, until, finally, they could grasp at his fluttering shirt.

As the two Fey clung onto their charge, Coen turned and shouted out.

“What are we to do?” He wailed. “He will break when he strikes the floor!”

“Fie!” shouted Léan. “We’ll just lift him, we will! On my signal, pull! One huckleberry, two raspberries-”

(This is, of, course, the classic signalling system of the Fey-Folk: Counting The Berries)

The floor was now in sight, a green pin-head.

“-three cloudberries, four tayberries-”

It was now the size of a saucer, and growing to the size of a plate.

“-five elderberries, six gooseberries-”

“Hurry! I can see the flowers in the grass!” fretted Coen. He was now sobbing with terror.

“-And seven CHERRIES!”

The two Fey, following the universal signal for lifting, spread their little wings and began to pull at Pieter’s shirt. The wind snatches at their own clothes, but was caught under their wings. And Pieter began to slow down.

Moment by moment, the efforts of the two little folk were rewarded as they won the battle against weight, until finally, they stood still in the air, a mere three meters above the ground.

Pieter gasped and craned his neck to look at his saviors. “You’ve done it! You brilliant little fools! You caught-” He was cut off when Léan, her arms sore, and Coen, ever the follower, released their grip, and allowed him plummeted to the earth.

It wasn’t as large a fall as his previous one, but Léan still winced when he bounced off of the dirt.

But as he pushed himself over, onto his back, Pieter was laughing.

“Look at this! I’m at the bottom now, aren’t I?”

After a moment of hesitation, Léan joined in, adding her tinkling bell of a giggle to Pieter’s rich chuckles.

And as Pieter lay there, in a field of wildflowers and long grass, inside of a great tree, he watched as the great Sun peaked above the trees and sent the rays of her dress through the carved windows in the wood, warming the room and lighting the spiraling choir of Fey that curiously peered. Their glow faded, but smiles appeared on the little folks’ faces when they saw Pieter’s beaming joy.

Because, just then, there was nowhere else that Pieter wanted to be.

~~~

The more one allowed their eyes to wander about the halls of the faeries, the more outstanding their contradictions became.

The walls were carven wood, similar in make to that of the halls resting on the Oak’s branches, though they seemed a shade darker. They stretched up the height of three Pieters, and then curved inward to an arch that rippled with the occasional tree branch that jutted out from the wall.

It could be assumed that these branches were growing from trunks hidden behind the walls (“Trees growing within a tree,” thought Pieter. “The novelty of it all!”), because from the base of the wall jutted searching roots, grabbing each other and frozen in an earthy writhe. They made up the floor that Pieter trotted down.

But as his own eyes wandered the halls more than he, they noticed that the twisting feet of wood formed a sort of dry marshland, in that amongst the oak flesh could one find lakes of dust, dried dirt.

The Fey that danced about Pieter leapt from wall to wall, overjoyed to see their guest up and about their home. Their joy was personified in their glow, an aura of pleasure that literally radiated outward from the wiggling faeries. They illuminated the windowless hallway and made a galaxy in miniature, orbiting Pieter’s head.

He was dazzled (and a little blinded) by their brilliance, so he cast his gaze downward. He laughed at the hummed songs about him and, for a while, took a simple joy in stepping in the lakes of dirt.

The impact of his bare feet on the earth kicked up an atmosphere of the stuff, some hugging Pieter’s warm legs, but the rest settling down with time. He’d look back to watch this, and every time one of the Fey would remain behind to burst through the cloud with a “Wheee!”

It was endlessly entertaining, and Pieter only stopped when he reached the end of the hallway, hours later.

~~~

There he stood, in a great hall. It’s great ceiling was lost in the gloom, though it was daytime, and Pieter suspected that if it were not nearly noon but rather sunrise or sunset he could see the true scope of the space. To the east and west, in the distance, opened to the surrounding lands, but Pieter couldn’t make out any details.

He laughed suddenly. Looking down, Pieter could see that the floor was covered in a feast. Tables upon tables of fruit and ambrosia, laid out in cluster for an absent army of normal-sized people.

“Léan! Why-?”

She flitted in beside him, looking out at the room. “You said you were hungry,” she said simply.

Pieter blinked. “I- Did I?”

Léan nodded. “Earlier. She heard and set out breakfast.”

“Oh. She?”

Léan nodded again. “Though, it is too late for breakfast. And lunch is not for a half-hour.”

“Léan?”

“Oh, but it must have been set out last night, that is when you were hungry. Would it be supper? Or dinner? There is a difference?”

“Léan.”

“I would say, then, when the food is eaten is what make which meal which. But is there a meal between breakfast and lunch?” Léan drifted down like a leaf in thought.

Coen stepped forward from between Pieter’s legs. “What about second breakfast?”

Léan snorted. “You need one to have a second, knave!”

“Tea-time?” Coen offered, half-hiding behind a fold in the fabric of Pieter’s pant leg.

“Does this look like tea?!” Léan threw her arms out to the room. “This goes beyond any snack that we’ve ever seen, we have!”

Coen blanched. “It- wha- what about… Brunch?”

All of the faeries shuddered at the contraction. Léan turned, her face ablaze with rage.

“I hate to interrupt,” Pieter broke in. “But who is this mysterious She?”

A twinkling of stars. The soft chiming of bells. The huff of velvet. These all spoke to Pieter, through her voice, lilting and woven with the sun and the moon, from behind him.

“I am She. I am Blodwen.”

~~~End of Chapter 7~~~

For a time, I felt really proud to be posting my writing. But after a time, I started to fear that the work that I did, didn’t actually matter and it was fated to be posted, receive some polite attention, and forgotten. That fear was suffocating, and I couldn’t bring myself to even look at End Haven’s document. Why work if the end doesn’t matter?

But all these thoughts, these emotions, began to hurt so much that it activated my classic response to negativity: I’ve stopped caring.

I don’t give a shit anymore about how much other people look at and think about my work. It’s my work, and I had the gall to display it to the world. I don’t need validation!

Ahem.

Tag List:

@cookiecuttercritter, @concealeddarkness13, @cawolters, @rainbowglittr, @aesthetically-writing, @mleighsquickspot, @phahbiyah, @itslmdee, @royalbounties, @samueldeckerthompson, @francestroublr, @the-violet-writer, @sunshinesouppp, @ink-in-snow

If you want to be added or removed to the tag list, feel free to comment/send a message so!

Thanks in advance.

#end haven #My writing #chapter 7 #writblr #ongoing work #Illustration #pencil illustration #fantasy #fiction

[eurynome827]

Hayride

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,536

Summary: A getaway with all the fall activities you can get your man to put up with you for, until you need his help to get through a haunted hayride.

Warnings: nothing really, fluffy flufftastic

Author Note: This is my entry for Mimi’s Fall Into Marvel Challenge hosted by @captain-rogers-beard and my prompt was Hayride.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

Bucky shook his head and smirked at you as you trudged barefoot through a large tub full of red grapes.

“I’m just fine out here, doll.”

You bit your tongue to keep from harassing him but couldn’t resist raising up your foot and chucking some grape remnants in his direction. He moved out of their path easily, but the winemaker in charge of the grape crushing party cleared his throat and glowered in your direction.

“Sorry!” you waved at the winemaker with a big smile and Bucky snorted.

“You’re a child.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and jumped, hoping to splatter him a little but then you shrieked as you almost lost your footing. Bucky rushed to grab your arm and steady you before you fell into a tub of half crushed grape mess. “Brat,” he couldn’t keep his amusement out of his voice as he smoothly scooped you up in his arms and pulled you out of the tub. “Let’s go get our wine and sit somewhere dry.”

You couldn’t remember ever being this happy. Somehow you had convinced Bucky to spend a long weekend with you on the North Fork of Long Island doing all your favorite fall activities. You were staying in a beautiful old bed and breakfast on the edge of a vineyard, right in the middle of Harvest season. You drank cider and danced in the courtyard at the Riverhead Cider House. Bucky let himself be dragged along apple picking AND pumpkin picking, with only the promise of fresh baked pies sustaining him.

Other than that, Bucky’s favorite part of this trip so far had been the evenings spent at the fire pit at the bed and breakfast – snuggled up with you under multitudes of stars, impossible to see with the bright lights of Manhattan. No, this trip hadn’t been ALL bad.

You wriggled your toes on the vineyard lawn as Bucky aimed the hose at your stained feet. Once all the crushed grapes were washed away from between your toes, you allowed Bucky to lift you again and he walked a short distance to place you on a wine barrel. You stretched your feet out on a neighboring barrel and turned your face toward the sky, grateful for the warm Autumn sun. While your eyes were closed Bucky took out his phone and quickly snapped a picture of you, with a soft grin on his face. No, this trip hadn’t been all bad, not at all.

“I’ll get our glasses, doll,” Bucky turned toward the tasting barn and then called over his shoulder, “Red or white?”

“If it’s cabernet sauvignon, grab me a red. Otherwise, white please!” You checked your watch while you waited for his return. Just enough time to enjoy one glass in the sun, and then you would need to change for the harvest festival that evening. One more night under the stars out at the fire pit, and then home in the morning.

At the harvest festival you both ate your fill of delicious but decidedly unhealthy foods, topped off with apple cider donuts for dessert. The atmosphere was raucous, with several live bands and tons of people milling about. You took a moment to look over at Bucky but he actually seemed to be handling the crowds well. Even so, you took the opportunity to get away to a quieter place and wandered through the corn maze hand in hand. The only interruptions were the children rushing past at intervals, trying to race each other through the maze. Bucky paused at the center of the maze and nudged your cheek with his nose. You looked into his eyes with a smile, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he kissed you softly, “I know I’ve been grumpy, but this has been a really nice trip.”

“Yeah?!” You smiled ear to ear at him and hugged him tightly, “I’m so happy to hear you say that. I’ve had the best time. I’m really lucky you want to put up with me!”

Bucky kissed you one more time and took your hand to lead you out of the maze. “I’m the lucky one, doll.”

At the end of the maze your childish enthusiasm got the better of you again. “A HAYRIDE! Can we go, please?” You hung on his arm with a pleading look in your eyes and Bucky let you pull him toward the horse-drawn cart. It was getting late at the festival and you were joined on the cart by only one more family. A mother and father on the young side, with a boy about three years old and a little girl you placed at about six. You smiled at them as they got settled across from you and Bucky, but then jumped three feet into the air as the driver loudly announced, “WELCOME TO THE HAUNTED HAYRIDE!”

“….haunted?” you glanced at Bucky and briefly considered jumping off the cart. You loved fall and you loved Halloween, but you were notoriously easy to scare. You knew you were about to completely embarrass yourself in front of these children and that Bucky would never get tired of telling this story. He was already looking at you with amusement, knowing exactly what was going through your head. “C’mon, you know I’ll protect you,” he whispered to you, and you huffed and sidled closer to him. Let him have his fun, you thought to yourself. He had certainly let you have yours.

The horse began a slow clip-clop toward the field, away from the festival and the corn maze and the lights began to fade away, leaving only the moonlight. This would have been lovely if you weren’t anxiously waiting for some teenager in a terrible costume to jump out at you! As if on cue, two zombies grabbed onto the side of the cart and moaned and you nearly ripped Bucky’s arm off. The two children were not faring any better. You whimpered and dove under Bucky’s arm, covering your face with your hands.

“Shh, baby,” he soothed you, but the laughter stayed in his voice, “something is coming up, behind us.”

And it went on like that, with your strong boyfriend with his super soldier senses warning you of every impending danger. The two parents were obviously in over their heads, trying to calm the little boy while the girl was jumping and screaming just the same as you. After the third or forth jump scare you saw him reach out his hand to the little girl. “Hey honey,” he said sweetly to her, “if you stay by me I can tell you when to close your eyes.”

She didn’t even hesitate and hopped over to your bench, scooting under Bucky’s flesh arm as you cowered under his metal one. He began to whisper his warnings to little girl and softly squeeze you closer when it was time to hide. You looked up at the parents across the way and saw their relieved faces. “Thank you,” the mother mouthed to Bucky and he grinned widely in return.

Finally the ride of terror was over, and you accepted a quick kiss from your man before hurriedly jumping down from the cart. Bucky helped the little girl out and offered a hand to her mother, who took it gratefully. While her father and brother were climbing down, the girl pulled on Bucky’s hand to get him down to her level.

“My name’s Zoe, what’s yours?”

“Bucky,” he grinned back as she shook his hand solemnly.

“My mama said I could have a caramel apple after the hayride, but I want you to have one too for being so brave.” She kept her hand in his and started pulling him toward the food stands and you thought your heart had grown three (or more) sizes. There were quick introductions amongst the adults and then caramel apples for all, but soon it was time to say good night and goodbye.

Back in the cozy room at your bed and breakfast, you washed your face and brushed your teeth, and when you turned to exit the room you were blocked by Bucky leaning in the doorway.

“My hero,” you teased quietly, standing on tiptoes to kiss him gently and then shifting to move past him, but his arms held you tightly.

“My love,” he said softly, nudging your nose with his.

“Yes?” Your voice caught in your throat.

“I was thinking,” he began, and you nodded in encouragement, “when we come back here someday, it would be nice to have someone else to protect on the hayride.”

You paused, a little confused but pretty sure you were getting his drift. “Okay, Buck. Who did you have in mind?”

His eyes twinkled down at you. “Let’s make a baby.”

You swallowed the lump that flew into your throat. “You sure about that, Buck?” He lifted you off the floor and you wrapped your legs around his waist with a giggle. “Oh, right now?” He ignored your laughter and carried you straight to the bed, laying you down with a slow, deep kiss. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#mimi’s fall into marvel challenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[ticklygiggles]

Skilled Fingers | InuYasha x Kagome [NSFW]

A/N: Aaaaah, InuYasha was the first anime i ever watched and it also was the first anime I started to search for tickle fics lololol ^////^;;;;

This is my first time writing for this fandom, so I hope you like it! Also! Lee!InuYasha to satisfy my needs ofc. I'm also still on time to post this before tumblr catastrophe hehehehehehe

Summary: InuYasha and Kagome are not shy when it comes to intimate times and as they’re trying light bondage for the first time, Kagome finds out interesting things about her lover.

InuYasha | InuYasha x Kagome

12. “Oh my God, I’ve never met someone as ticklish as you!”

14. “Is that your real laugh?”

💫

“Why do we have to do this in my human form?”, he was pouting like a kid, making Kagome roll her eyes as she checked the robe around InuYasha’s wrists.

“Because you are ruthless on your half-demon form, I don’t want to be unable to walk for a week again”, InuYasha smirked at the memory and she punched his chest playfully. “Besides, in your human form I can easily tie you up like this and you’ll not break free”, she sang excitedly and InuYasha pouted again. “Don’t make that face. We should try everything that can be fun, don’t you think?”

Their place was lighten up by the moonlight filtering through the window. Before starting, Kagome took a moment to relish on InuYasha’s bare body.

Without her noticing, InuYasha was also relishing on her beautiful form, following the shadows on the curves and crevices on her naked body.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her long neck, exposed thanks to the high ponytail she was wearing. Her sharp clavicles making him sweat, followed by her beautiful and rounded breasts, they jumped just a bit with each of her movements, goosebumps covering them, making her nipples get a bit hard and tight.

He felt his mouth watering looking at the curve of her waist and the muscles on her stomach, her belly button and sharp hip bones guiding him to one of his most favorite spots on her.

She didn’t give him time to appreciate said spot as she leaned down to check on the restrains of his wrist once more, making sure they were tied up nicely, but without hurting him.

InuYasha gulped, her breasts were barely centimeters away from his face, feeling encouraged, he stick his tongue out and locked one of her nipples, taking in his mouth and nibbling at it carefully.

Kagome let out a splendid surprised moan, her body instantly getting weak and leaning even more against InuYasha’s face, he took her without problem.

Regardless of her pleasure, when InuYasha bit in just a bit too harsh, she snapped back to reality. She was the one in charge.

Pull yourself together.

When InuYasha opened his mouth a bit to take some air in, she leaned back, siting on his hips and whipping up the saliva from her breast.

“You’ve been a bad boy”, he showed her a big, mischievous and fangless smile, making her feel a soft tug on her lower belly.

She growled softly and leaning down once more, she pressed her lips into his. Her soft hands cupping his cheeks and her fingertips softly touching the lobes of his ears as he kissed her back.

She felt him growling on her mouth when he tried to hold her, only to be reminded about his restrained position. She smirked into the kiss, enjoying the gasp he evoked when her fingertips moved down past his neck and towards his chest where she blindly looked for his nipples as the war inside their mouths continued.

“Ah!”, she drunk the moan bursting out of InuYasha’s mouth as she finally found them and pinched them softly, twisting them between her fingers. “Kagom- don’t- ah!”, she kept kissing him, silencing his words and pleasuring him more until she felt his cock starting to wake up, the tip touching her back.

Kagome smirked once again against InuYasha’s mouth, making him whine softly as she started to kiss down his jaw, neck and chest, where she quickly licked InuYasha’s nipples and keep leaving kisses and licks down to his ribs.

“Did you just giggle?”

“Kagom- wahahait!”, Kagome stopped and looked up at InuYasha, he was blushing a bit, an awkward smile stretching his lips.

“It- uh… it kinda tickled a bit?”

Kagome raised her eyebrows, “Where? Here?”, without any warning, she just started to squeeze InuYasha’s ribs, making him jump and throw his head back, laughing loudly. His trapped arms quickly trying to break free. “InuYasha! You are ticklish?!”

He shrieked when she found a good spot between his fourth and fifth ribs, bottom to top, and focused there only, making him trash and buck his hips, almost throwing her off, she laughed, pressing her legs against him, to keep balanced.

InuYasha was laughing loudly, he could barely keep still, trying to escape those evil fingers torturing that damn spot on his ribs.

“Is that your real laugh?”, she asked as she finally moved her fingers up to his underarms, where was not, exactly, a less ticklish spot.

His laughter sounded different from his usual one, a bit more desparete, of course, and a bit high pitched, but it also sounded less sarcastic and happier. Just like a child’s laugh, made her want to laugh too.

Besides, Kagome had never seen such adorable features on him: eyebrows slightly furrowed, nose scrunched up, flushed cheeks and mouth open wide in a big smile. Simply adorable.

“K-Kahahahagome! Stop! Stohohohop!”, InuYasha threw his head back, laughing nearly in hysterics as Kagome kept tickling his underarms apart, finding all of those tiny but super sensitive spots around. “Not thehehere, please!”

“Oh my god, I’ve never met someone as ticklish as you!”, she giggled as InuYasha let out a loud shriek followed by a wave of cackling laughter as she rubbed her thumbs in this spot between his ribs and underarms. “Sota was pretty ticklish back then, but he was a kid!”

InuYasha’s already bright pink cheeks seemed to flush even more. Kagome chuckled. “Embarrassed?”, he simply nodded, the laughter flowing out of him made impossible to form coherent sentences. “Should I stop?”, he nodded again, his laughter becoming wheezy and silent, desperately pulling at his trapped arms.

She moved spots then, her fingers dancing down until she reached his stomach, where she clawed her fingertips against the tight muscles, making him arch his back and shriek before falling into silent laughter.

“You seem to enjoy this too much, though”, she said smirking and looking back at InuYasha’s cock, which was standing up proudly, the head red and leaking a bit. “Perhaps, is it turning you on?”, she chuckled when InuYasha nodded his head, no more sounds coming out of his mouth as he laughed silently.

His face was as red as his forgotten clothes on the floor, so Kagome slowed down, stopping completely for a bit until InuYasha’s voice was back and residual giggles made him shook a bit.

“Kagome!”, he whined, breathing heavily. “That was teheherrible!”

“Other spots on your body seem to think differently, InuYasha”, he opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut up by a deep moan as Kagome closed her hand around his flushed arousal.

He arched his back and whined hotly as she started to move her hand up and down, torturous slowly, making him curl his toes and fingers. “Who would’ve thought this InuYasha would like tickling this much”, Kagome felt him twitch in her hand.

InuYasha whined. “Don’t te-tease me, Kagome-Ack!”, he moaned when she cupped her hand against his tip and moved in circles. “I didn’t know it did!’”

“Hmm, well, now we know. Don’t think I’ll not use it against you”, he moaned again.

His teeth chattered as pleasure quickly overpowered him. He felt like losing himself to it and to Kagome’s magical fingers. He closed his eyes, throwing his head back, exposing his neck to Kagome’s mouth.

“Kagome…”, he sighed as she found the good spot on the right side under his chin, her teeth nibbling softly and her tongue licking wildly as she sucked and sucked until she was satisfied with the little bruise forming on his milky skin.

She felt proud, somehow. She was marking a half-demon with her own mouth, a mere human making this half-demon moan her name out loud, making him beg for more.

That was truly satisfying.

“Fuck, Kagome, just- please”, Kagome looked up at him, from her spot on his chest, his twitching cock soon forgotten as she payed her full attention to his sensitive nipples again.

He looked deliciously obscene.

His black bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, she was glad she convinced him to braid his hair, it laid perfectly tight beside his head. The tips of his ears were red and so were his cheeks, his eyes half-closed in bliss with dried up tears from her tickle attack earlier, string of saliva falling from the corner of his mouth.

She could barely stand it.

“I want both of us to feel good, Inuyasha”, he whined, leaving a long sigh and gulping.

Kagome smirked and quickly moved fo position herself on top InuYasha’s face. He welcomed her immediately with a long lick, making her whine even before she could take him in her mouth.

“Naughty boy”, she mumbled, InuYasha chuckled softly, but his little laugh was lost into a moan as she kissed the tip of his cock and took him deep into her mouth.

InuYasha felt like coming in the spot, but he held himself together and reached for Kagome’s little nub of nerves with his tongue. She moaned deeply and he moaned back, sucking into Kagome’s clit.

Kagome received him so well inside her mouth as she bumped her head up and down until InuYasha’s tip almost reached the back of his throat, much to his pleasure.

A deep groan erupted inside InuYasha’s mouth as his tongue dipped into Kagome’s entrance, drinking her and trying to reach her sweet spot without the help of his fingers. How desperate made him feel to have his limbs trapped, and yet, made him feel even more aroused.

Kagome felt InuYasha’s cock twitching inside her mouth. The idea popping in her head made her smirk.

“Fucking- ahahaha!”, Kagome started to rub her thumbs against InuYasha’s hips in very ticklish circles, making him roll and buck his hips up and down. Kagome slowed down a bit when she choked a little and, instead, simply wiggled his fingers on InuYasha’s hipbones.

InuYasha almost forgot his job as the tickling took him off guard, but he quickly went back to work on making Kagome feel good.

She felt in heaven.

The vibrations of his laughter and the shaky tongue against her clit made her almost reach her peak, but Kagome tried to hold it as best as she could, not wanting to stop just yet.

InuYasha, in the other hand, was slipping into his orgasm, the tickling was driving him up the wall in the best way possible and Kagome’s magic mouth was seriously taking the best of him.

“Ka-Kahahagome! I’m gonna- I’m gon- ah!”

Kagome felt the explosion in her mouth and she quickly swallowed everything up before it spilled all over the bed. She felt InuYasha’s cock twitching in its climax as she pulled it out her mouth and bumped it with her hand, the other one tickling his hip full force.

InuYasha cackled and cried with over stimulation, his head thrown back and tears fell from his eyes.

“Do you like this, InuYasha?”, she let go of his dick, not wanting to hurt him, but kept tickling both his hips until he was screaming with laughter.

And then it happened. And it happend too quickly that Kagome barely had time to understand what was going on.

She first heard the ripping of clothes and then felt InuYasha’s hands holding her hips firmly, sitting her on top of his face as he nibbled on her clit. She moaned deeply and looked up, the first rays of Sun bathing their sweaty bodies.

Kagome swore under her breath and buried her face against InuYasha’s lower belly, moaning loudly as he ate her out so good, his fangs softly grazing against her sensitive skin and his hands holding her hips in place so she couldn’t move one bit.

“InuYasha- ah! Slow- slow down!”, she begged, the pleasure making her feel dizzy. “I can’t hold- hold it anymore!”

“Who told you to do it?”, he mumbled against her flesh licking her hard and finally making her orgasm with force.

He drunk her up completely just like she did to him and dared to play with her shivery clit, using the tip of his finger, through her orgasm until she was crying with over stimulation. Just a little revenge.

Kagome couldn’t help but collapse on top of InuYasha in that position. InuYasha kissed her wet flesh loveling, making her mewl softly.

She gathered some strength and lifted herself up, pulling the clothes around InuYasha’s ankles off and climbing back into his opened arms.

“How was that?”, she asked with a tired smile, kissing his lips.

“Let’s do it again”, Kagome looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’ll not make me wait until the next new moon, right?”, she laughed.

“Give me a rest, InuYasha, you are ruthless”, he laughed.

“And I only used my tongue”, he winked at her before he rolled on top of her. “I promise to be gentle”, he said kissing her neck. “Please, Kagome?”, that hot voice whispering in her ear was more than she could take.

Kagome let out a long sigh. “Fine”, she said and with the little strenght in her, she pushed InuYasha over and straddled him. “Let’s work you up, then”, she smirked.

“Wait! No no no! That’s- ahahaha! Shit, Kagomehehe!”

It did work him up, though.

#inuyasha a feudal fairytale #inuyasha #higurashi kagome #inuyasha x kagome #tickle fic #ticklish!inuyasha #mia's fics #mia's things #inukago

[michaelmyersmalewife]

LEVIATHAN | 13. The Longest Night | MASTERLIST

words: 12k+

A/N: lemme just say beforehand that im so sorry for writing this absolute behemoth of a chapter so get yourself comfy and make a snack bc this is a doozy

you can also support this fic on wattpad & ao3

Madison was paralyzed, trapped in Ghidorah's gaze.

He smelled like fried wires and the sky just before a thunderstorm. Something like batteries gathered in her throat. His entire presence was suffocating. She wondered how Elena could handle it.

It couldn't end here. Not now, not when she had come so far. Their only chance at survival was to get rid of the ORCA - for good. If she held onto the machine, the dragon would crush her - all of them. Maybe if they gave it up to him, they'd have a chance to escape. But there was also a chance it would cause the rest of the titans to fall back under his spell once more, but it was a chance she felt she was forced to take. The hope that Monarch had made good use of the time they'd try to buy them was the only thing reassuring her.

"Elena," she said, not breaking eye contact with the monster. "Throw it."

Elena hadn't moved. Looking over at her, she looked paralyzed, eyes wide with terror and glued directly at Ghidorah. She wasn't sure if it was due to the rain or fear, but she was shaking. Madison shook her arm.

"Snap out of it, you need to get rid of the ORCA!"

Elena could barely feel the girl's attempts at rousing her from her daze. All the woman could see was a sprawling yellow void, suspended among nothing but golden clouds. Ghidorah hovered before her, lightning crackling around his body as all heads zeroed in on her.

We tried not to hold it against you, -

                                                       - but you really are a nuisance.

                                                                           You were a waste of a Speaker

You think I asked to be connected to a giant egomaniac?

Oh, cry me a river.

                     This would be much easier for us if you stopped fighting.

                                                       It's not like there's anyone that can help you

What's the point of all this anyway? What could you possibly gain from any of this?

A tiny thing like you couldn't understand

Try me

Not seeing any response from Elena, Madison's face scrunched together in frustration, tugging the ORCA from her hands. That seemed to snap her out of it, but at that same moment, the crackling of Ghidorah's internal light sparked above them, and immediately she tossed it as far as she could. The ORCA landed in a pile of rubble right in front of his massive talons. One of his heads broke their fixed gaze, looking down and considering it for a moment with an irritated glare before bringing his foot down. The ORCA stopped its hum.

She hoped that was good enough, that that would sate his anger.

But it didn't. Signal or no signal, he knew Elena. He knew them all now, their faces burned into his collective memory. Hell, he probably knew who she and the Regulator were since Antarctica. If Madison's connection to Godzilla wasn't enough for him to deal with, Elena had pestered him one time too many. All three heads focused on their forms, lazily moving forward on serpentine necks like they were in no rush to destroy them. He was studying them, trying to figure out how they had done it, how such tiny creatures could have caused the collapse of his whole kingdom.

Madison wanted to run, but there was nowhere else for her to go. This was it. The lightning rippled up his body, splitting into three different pathways as it traveled up his necks and he began opening his mouths. The crackling energy was nearly spilling through his teeth.

Bracing for the end, she felt a hand grasp hers.

It was Elena. And for the first time being around the three-headed dragon - rain whipping around her, thunder and lightning splitting the sky open - she did not look afraid. Ghidorah didn't seem too happy about that, and each of his heads shrieked like three banshees.

But standing with Elena, Godzilla's presence somewhere in the back of her mind, Madison did not feel small. Something gathered in her heart, something defiant - primal. And staring straight into the Golden Demise's eyes, she screamed with all the fury of a titan.

Madison knew that that was likely her last action as a not-pile-of-ashes, and she didn't feel a shred of regret over it. Hands curling into fists, she braced for the end. Until suddenly, from behind them, a beam of blue energy knocked Ghidorah back and through the stadium wall, the force sending him skidding across the street and into a building.

They all stood there for a moment, staring at the fallen monster, confused and awestruck of the power that had sent him tumbling. Then the ground began to shake beneath their feet, rhythmic footsteps coming ever closer.

And then there was the roar.

Am I late? Godzilla's thoughts rippled through her mind.

Madison turned around, eyes blinking through the rain and hair that now plastered her face. She grinned, feeling a sudden, savage glee.

Go kick his ass, she thought.

Don't need to tell me twice, little titan, he replied.

And better yet, he wasn't alone. As he waded through the harbor and past the buildings around him, he was accompanied by a cavalry of jets and ships whizzing past him in droves. Only they weren't shooting at him. It almost looked like he was leading them, like they had all come together for a common purpose: fighting the Golden Demise.

She felt something tug at her heart, something exciting. It was the best part of her mother's vision come to life, humans and titans working together.

Only - out of pure bad luck - they had been caught right in the middle of the oncoming chaos. A battleground straight out of some ancient apocalypse. And the only thing that filled her mind was a single thought.

Run.

_____

The Argo, guided by an onslaught of Ospreys, followed Godzilla as he stomped his way through Boston, flattening cars and crashing through buildings as if they were nothing but cardboard boxes.

Jodie peered out of the large window and at the city, or what she could see of it. Most of it was blanketed in a dense fog that spilled over the tops of buildings and through the streets. Toward the front of the control room, she saw Graham pull Serizawa's notebook out of her pocket, flipping it open. She had already lost count of how many times the doctor had run through that same motion during the flight. She couldn't blame her. Looking at the old and worn notebook, it felt like Serizawa was with them too. She wished with all her heart that he had lived to see this, the vindication of his vision: Godzilla and humanity coming together to fight against a common enemy, trying to make things right. To know that his sacrifice had not been in vain.

And thanks to Mark's discovery, they had managed to track the ORCA's signal to Fenway Park. Emma must have been using its loudspeakers to boost the signal. Evidently, it had worked. Maybe a little too well, as it had brought Ghidorah straight to Boston. The signal had cut out just moments ago, and Jodie could only think of the worst. Ghidorah must have reached the stadium. Were Emma and Madison still there? Or did they have the common sense to cut it off and get the hell out of there before it was too late? But that also begged another question. Were the extremists with them?

But they were just the start of her worries. Through the seething clouds and lightning, Godzilla and Ghidorah were nothing but black silhouettes against a background of destruction. Ghidorah stood his ground as Godzilla charged toward him, roaring so loudly windows on nearby buildings shattered from its intensity. Ghidorah responded, all three of his heads trilling with anger as they smoothly galloped toward the lizard, quickly gaining speed. This was about to get brutal, and if San Francisco had been of any indication, not much of Boston was likely to survive it.

"Okay, we've zeroed in on the last ping from the ORCA. Fenway park, dead ahead. We'll lay cover fire to keep Ghidorah distracted." he turned to Jodie. "Good luck out there."

She nodded. Jodie, Mark and the rest of G-Team headed to the Argo's hangar for one of the few remaining Ospreys. Graham closed the notebook.

This is it, Jodie thought. The last stand. If Ghidorah won, this time they were done for sure. There weren't enough ships and aircraft in the world that could challenge him. And to make matters worse, seconds after the ORCA signal cut out, the titans they still had tracking information on began moving again. Moving toward Boston. They had to put Ghidorah down before his reinforcements arrived. Just five years ago, Godzilla had managed to take down two MUTOs, but he had nearly died doing so. But up against twelve, thirteen, maybe more titans all at once?

His chances were looking slim.

Godzilla was already closing in on his ancient rival, and what remained of their aircraft were about to engage, and the ships were readying their long-range canons. And Godzilla, he seemed..brighter. In every sense of the word. The pulses from his scutes grew more radiant every second, shining up and down in a similar manner to his intimidation display. And his skin was shining in the moonlight too. He looked more powerful than the last time she had seen him. A lot more powerful.

"Well he's looking lively." she commented.

"Is it just me," Sam asked. "Or has he been working out?"

"You kidding me?" Stanton replied. "Serizawa got that lizard juiced."

"Damn right." Foster said.

"Colonel," one of the bridge officers said. "All squadrons are locked on target."

Foster, Chen and Graham exchanged glances, and then turned their collective gazes out at Ghidorah. Jodie knew exactly how they felt. It was hard to get her to hate any creature, but she felt nothing but contempt for that three-headed monstrosity. Her mind flashed back to the sea full of wreckage, the hundreds - thousands - of people that had already died trying to stop this unholy thing.

With an austere gaze, Graham stared at the oncoming battle. "For Serizawa."

A hundred trails of fire scorched across the sky.

_____

Nearly every missile that had been dropped was a direct hit.

Ghidorah shrieked in irritation, shielding himself from the oncoming fire with one of his wings. Elena's neck strained from looking up at the sky, rain still pelting her face and gluing long strands of hair across her face. At least a dozen jets were whizzing right above them, dropping all they had on the golden dragon right in front of them.

Each of his three heads broke through the smoke and fog, zeroing in on the mountainous lizard as they charged at each other. As the titans collided, the resulting shock wave of their massive bodies slamming together shook the ground.

Taking Madison's hand and pulling at the Regulator's shoulder, they ran.

That quiet moment in the stadium's booth, looking out the window into an abandoned city, seemed an eternity ago. Boston had turned into a warzone, a battle between the gods.

Everything around her was burning - bricks and steel rained from the sky. Even running as fast as she could, they still hadn't managed to get out of the combat zone. The titans were just too big. She felt like an insect scrambling to get out from underfoot of a couple of wrestlers. For every hundred feet they covered, the titans could cover that distance in a single step. She was afraid that they would, but they didn't even notice her anymore, but that didn't matter. The missiles and jets didn't know they were there either, all of those rounds they were shooting at Ghidorah were also raining down all around her.

One of the dragon's tails sliced through a skyscraper as he stumbled backward, ripping through its steel-beam skeleton as if it were paper, spraying a curtain of debris down at them. They desperately weaved their way through it, Madison shrieking as a piece of rubble connected with her arm. It was quickly becoming harder to dodge it all - frantically falling, rolling, springing back to their feet as the earth beneath them shook with each footstep from the titans not too far away.

Every direction around them seemed closed off by either the titans themselves or mountains of ruin, and the fight was about to roll right over them. Again.

Suddenly, there was a roar from something that wasn't a giant monster. Elena's gaze was drawn to the sky. A giant aircraft broke through the clouds, and for a moment she thought it was the Controller, until she saw that it was a flat craft rather than spherical, complete with a Monarch logo emblazoned on its side. She chuckled in disbelief. As the craft shot by, it spattered Ghidorah with missiles, driving him away from them.

That seemed like a good thing to her at first, but she could feel a panic setting in, and looking down at the girl trembling in her arms she could tell that it had taken over her as well. They had made it out of too many near misses, and luck couldn't keep them safe for long. At any second they could be under falling chunks of building, or a missile that missed its mark. Not even the Speaker's Connection could keep them from accidentally getting squashed like a bug.

Madison could feel herself starting to hyperventilate, despite trying to control her breathing. She was shivering, the cold from the rain and the adrenaline running through her veins taking hold of the most primitive part of her mind. Run. Hide. Keep running. Don't stop moving until you're out of the crossfire. But there was no safe zone, not for miles. As she let herself be pushed and pulled by Elena and the Regulator, she kept remembering Andrew, how he had looked when they found him. They needed to get somewhere safe. Fast.

Fighting to keep the air from running out of her lungs, she tugged on Elena's arm.

"O-Over - Over here." she struggled to push the words out of her mouth, but hopefully the woman had been able to hear her.

Together, the trio ran on.

_____

Mere yards outside of the Osprey, Godzilla wrestled with the three-headed monster.

Jodie watched as Ghidorah crackled with energy, charging up for another shot of yellow lightning. Countless missiles speared past them, their warheads opening on the dragon like flowers. He flinched back, Godzilla slamming into him head-on once again. Ghidorah was getting pummeled, wings splaying out to keep his balance. Their roars mixed together in one loud cry as Godzilla took one of his heads in his claws, ruthlessly tugging it down and slamming it into the ground below them.

"Hang on!" the pilot yelled as she weaved past Ghidorah's flailing tails, banking hard to avoid the flaming remains of missiles and fallen aircraft.

Blood rushed to Jodie's head, and every organ in her body did somersaults. The Osprey was almost on its side, and the window she had found herself pressed against was facing the flaming city below. She swallowed a scream as Griffin got them clear from the titan and righted the vessel, bringing them back around to a view of the fight as Godzilla impaled Ghidorah's tails with his dorsal spines. All three heads shrieked in pain. Griffin circled the Osprey around the brawl, dropping toward what was left of the stadium.

"Whoa," Jodie observed, catching her breath. "Dude's lit up like a Christmas tree."

Through the smoke, Mark followed her gaze. Godzilla was pulsing with a fiery orange light, the air around him distorting with heat waves. It was faint, and every now and then it would be drained out by his regular blue light, but something about the colorful display put a jolt of dread in her heart. That was definitely new. To Jodie's knowledge, nothing like this had ever been observed.

Jodie turned on the handheld radio at her side.

"Stanton, are you guys seeing this?"

"Oh we're seeing it," Stanton said. "But definitely not liking it."

There was a pause. Jodie could almost see him going over the readings on his screen. Suddenly, the Osprey's speakers crackled and Stanton's voice sounded through the whole craft.

"Godzilla's radiation levels are going through the roof. We've got about twelve minutes before he goes thermonuclear."

"What do you mean?" Jodie called over the noise outside.

The Osprey shook as thunder and lightning sounded around them.

"I'm sayin' in about twelve minutes it's gonna be a bad day to be a Red Sox fan."

Coleman's voice took over the radio. "Okay guys, you need to find the ORCA, grab Madison and get the hell out of there. Whatever Serizawa did to Godzilla worked a little too well, because he's about to explode like an atom bomb."

As if their time wasn't already limited enough. Mark looked around the Osprey with furrowed brows. Outside, the Boston skyline was burning, and the two titans were still going at it as hard as their bodies could allow. Jodie took in a deep breath.

"Roger that," Barnes answered. "Prepare for landing."

Mark moved to the front of the Osprey, Jodie following. The red glow around them made everything feel even more hellish than it already was, what with Ghidorah and Godzilla's roars bellowing just outside like heralds of doom. Her heart was hammering in her chest as the craft dropped down. Behind her, Martinez crossed himself, Barnes closing his eyes in a silent prayer. The others - men and women she didn't even know the names of - were steeling themselves as they prepared to run out in a prehistoric battleground. Preparing to die, if that's what was coming. And looking around at the chaos surrounding them, it seemed a fair guess that some or all of them would. Jodie felt a lump gather in her throat.

"You didn't have to come with me, y'know." Mark said.

"And what, miss out on all the fun?" she said sardonically.

Truthfully, she knew that she could've stayed aboard the Argo without a problem. And a part of her wanted to go back, even if it was too late for second thoughts. But after all this time, she had survived the impossible. Maybe she could share some of that luck with the people around her, as ridiculous as that sounded. Jodie had always been just a little superstitious.

In that moment the Osprey bumped down onto the ruined field at Fenway Park, and one by one the soldiers marched out. But Ghidorah's golden lightning struck, and the first two out the door were incinerated, their lives cut short in less than a heartbeat. Jodie swallowed a shriek. It was beyond horrifying, but the others ahead of her piled out anyway, Jodie were right behind them. Mark leaped out of the Osprey, nearly tripping over the rubble that covered the field.

Jodie had only been to Boston once or twice, but even now Fenway Park was near unrecognizable. Much of the stadium was torn to shreds, walls caving in and benches hanging on by steel threads. Next to her, Mark was staring at what was most likely the broadcasting booth, or at least where it should have been. Emma and Madison must've found a way to patch the ORCA into its sound system, but it seemed that Ghidorah had figured that out too.

The solider's flashlights barely cut through the fog and floating debris, but even then she still saw one of Ghidorah's talons land right ahead of her with an earth-shaking thud. Her gaze trailed upward, and right next to them Godzilla was swatting away the heads that lurched forward, jaws persistently snapping at the lizard. With a sneer, Godzilla spun around, tail roughly slamming into Ghidorah's side as the dragon stumbled off balance. Yet another building went down with them.

Mark and Jodie both called out Madison and Emma's names, but the sound barely carried over the fight just yards away. Behind them, one of Ghidorah's heads became trapped underneath Godzilla's clawed foot, jaws snapping desperately as his windpipe was being crushed with every second the lizard stood firm.

Jodie stopped to cough something nasty, the smoke in the air stinging her lungs. There had been nothing resembling an answer thus far, only G-Team moving around them, searching the debris. Other than themselves, Jodie didn't see anyone else - living or dead.

As they fanned their search, Godzilla and Ghidorah's fight was just getting started. Jagged streaks of lightning surged all around them, along with a flaming meteor storm of fallen aircraft. The smell of burning jet fuel filled the air.

They're not here, she thought. What if they were never here? Emma might've come by herself, maybe she left the kid somewhere safe.

But they couldn't stop looking now. If they weren't here, where else could they look? Their options were slim, and this was the best - the only lead they had. There was a chance they had made it to a nearby bunker but Monarch had already sent a squad to scope that out.

Her train of thought stopped when she suddenly felt an odd, mechanical crunch under her shoes. She looked down, eyes widening when she saw what it was.

The ORCA lay inches beyond the edge of the field of debris, crushed into the contours of a giant foot. And it wasn't looking too hot.

"Over here!" she shouted from across the stadium.

Mark and one of the soldiers rushed over to his side, fearing the worst. But as they got closer, just ahead of them was an explosion, sending Mark flying to the ground. Jodie pulled the ORCA from the rubble, running toward them the rest of the way. Mark looked confused as she approached them, head tilting just slightly when he saw the jumbled piece of something in her arms.

"It's not your daughter, but.." Jodie said, voice trailing off as she handed the machine over to Mark.

He turned it over in his hands, studying it. Attached to its side by a frayed wire was what looked like a headpiece. And while the whole thing was pretty banged up and singed, it wasn't completely destroyed.

Jodie's eyes narrowed as she looked at it, questioning. If Emma had hooked it up to the stadium and taken off, what was it doing down here? If anything, it should've been in the smoking hole where the broadcast booth was. Something wasn't adding up, and it made her uneasy.

But there was no time to think further when the ground rumbled again, smoke suddenly surging up from beneath them. Godzilla and Ghidorah were above them, still locked in battle. The lizard swatted the dragon's incessant necks as they tried gaining any purchase on the titan. With a push, Ghidorah stumbled back, but then the middle head reared backward, springing forth like a coiled snake and sinking his jaws into Godzilla's neck. As Godzilla was about to rip the center head from his throat, the other two heads at his side sprung forward as well. The right head followed, pinning Godzilla's left shoulder, and then the left head, pinning his right arm. The titan let out of a groan of pain as Ghidorah pushed down with all his strength.

"We gotta go!" Barnes yelled, suddenly coming up from behind them as he pushed them away from the brawl.

The titans were stumbling their way, fast.

Jodie felt one of the soldiers grab her, hustling her toward the Osprey. But before they could get any more than a few feet, one of Ghidorah's talons stomped down on the aircraft. It exploded, sending them all reeling back and adding to the mass of flames that already surrounded them. Jodie felt a piece of debris cut across her cheek.

Squinting, trying to push herself up from the ground, she saw Ghidorah hover a few meters above the ground, wings flapping slowly as Godzilla continued to struggle, jaws twisted open in a continuous cry of pain. Then the dragon slammed him back to the ground, pushing him forward into another street, the pavement below them shooting up like crumbs. The titan's cries stopped, Godzilla rearing up and blasting Ghidorah with his atomic breath, knocking the dragon right back toward them.

So much for luck, she thought.

But in that moment, Ghidorah skidded to a stop, the center head drawing away from the fire that poured over his chest and toward the sky. The right head followed his gaze. And then the left.

There was a light in the sky, breaking through the thick cover of clouds. It looked like a sun, but amidst the chaos Jodie heard a familiar song.

Bursting down from above was an unmistakable blue radiance, followed by broad oval-shaped wings that swept back. A pair of amber eye markings glowed at its ends, and for a brief moment Jodie was reminded of Godzilla's eyes.

With a sonic boom of melodious cries, Mothra dove into Ghidorah like a hawk diving down on a snake. As she swung past the dragon, webbing jetted from her jaws, stopping Ghidorah mid-fall and sticking all three of his heads to a skyscraper.

As Mothra gathered speed, what sounded like a teasing laugh chittered from her mandibles as she watched Ghidorah's right head break free. He glared at her with hatred in his eyes as he tried desperately to tear through the webbing that still trapped his struggling brothers. But suddenly, he stopped, seeing Godzilla's reflection rapidly approaching through the building's glass windows. He turned around and trilled in defiance as Godzilla plowed into him, knocking them both clean through the building. Godzilla looked down at the fallen dragon with a reptilian smirk, cheekily huffing out a hot puff of hair. Mothra joined him, swooping back in for the finishing blow.

Ghidorah trilled, not in defeat, but something just as desperate. He was calling for something.

Pulling her wings close together as she dove, she reared up her pointed limbs, preparing to attack. But before she could get any closer, a low roar came out of seemingly nowhere - it was Rodan, bursting from the clouds as a trail of fire sprinkled from the tips of his wings. Mothra cried out in shock, having no time to counter the surprise jump. Like some ancient, vengeful god, he speared straight for her, abruptly tearing her from her flight path. Half-molten wings folded back, he struck her like a meteor, wrapping her in the furnace of his wings. She shrilled in agony as the soft down on her body caught fire. They were a tangle of limbs before Mothra tore at him with her claws, the two of them soaring into buildings. With a push, she broke free, dodging Rodan's beak as he snapped at her.

Glancing back at Godzilla, still trying to keep Ghidorah on the ground, Mothra steeled herself. Once again, she slammed into Rodan, the two spiraling downward. Ghidorah was already a handful, and she had to keep the fiery bird distracted, whatever it took.

Finally, Jodie, Mark and the G-Team were alone on the field. Or what was left of them. Still reeling from the sudden spike in action, Jodie took a head count. Besides Mark, there wasn't much left of G-Team besides Barnes, Martinez and Griffin. And Griffin looked hurt. The rest of the team was just gone without a trace.

And with the Osprey gone, she didn't have a lot of hope that they would fare any better. Flames and steam jetted from the ground, as if the rain of debris wasn't enough. Barnes and Martinez helped Griffin to her feet with gritted teeth, eyes wrenched shut in pain. They had no choice but to walk. But where? The stadium was an inferno with them in the middle, columns of fire licking at the sky. Any direction they went would end with them in torches, but they had to do something. Fast. Maybe there was a weak point in the wall of fire, they could run through it. But Griffin's leg..

But then, out of nowhere, something burst from through the other side of the flames.

It was a banged up jeep that had definitely seen better days, and at the wheel was Emma Russell.

"Get in!" she yelled.

No one moved. Jodie and the others exchanged suspicious glances. She didn't blame them. As much as she wanted to trust her, to believe that she had a change of heart, she was the one that caused all this. Just as Mark was about to open his mouth to say something in response until Mothra and Rodan - whos limbs were still locked together as they rolled through the air - knocked a jet out of the sky. It crashed directly behind them, the resulting explosion sending a hail of debris their way.

"GET IN!" she repeated.

That definitely ended their hesitation in an instant, as all of them jumbled into the car, Mark taking the passenger's seat with the ORCA still in his hand. Jodie folded herself into the trunk as the remnants of G-Team packed together in the back seat. It was an uncomfortable fit, but now wasn't the time to be picky.

In the muffled shelter the car provided, Jodie felt her heart hammering in her ears. She was still unsure that this was all happening, and not the last hallucination of someone currently dying in the rubble. But dream or reality, they still had a mission to carry out.

"Where's Madison?" Mark asked.

"I don't know, I thought she was there!" Emma replied. Jodie's heart sunk.

Above them, a chunk of aircraft crashed into a building, sending another wave of debris hurtling their way. Emma swerved sharply to avoid it, the side of Jodie's head roughly connecting with the back of the car. She grit her teeth, rubbing away the dull pain. That was gonna bruise.

"Well, she's not there!" Mark yelled.

Emma swerved again, avoiding a chunk of building blocking more than half of the road. Griffin held in a scream as her injured leg hit the back of the driver's seat.

"Jesus, take it easy!" Barnes shouted as he tried to put as much pressure on the bleeding wound as he could.

"Here -" Jodie unbuckled the thin belt from her pants, shoving it into Martinez's hands. With a silent nod of thanks, he wrapped it around her leg, fashioning a makeshift tourniquet.

"Look out!" Mark shouted.

In that same moment, Mothra and Rodan came barreling between the buildings that framed the street, knocking a helicopter out of the air as it spun out of control, exploding on the ground. Emma took a sharp turn, wheels skidding over a sidewalk.

"I hope you're as good at finding her as you are losing her." Mark continued.

"I didn't lose her - she ran away!"

"Gee, I wonder why -"

"Oh, don't even start."

"Don't start? You tried to kill me!"

As they continued bickering, Jodie exhaled, pushing the still damp curls away from her face in frustration.

"Can't blame the kid, if I had these two for parents I'd run away from home too." she said to herself.

Emma slammed on the breaks.

"What did you say?" she demanded.

Jodie bristled.

"She said, if I had the two of you for parents I'd run away from home too!" Barnes shouted. "And she's right." he muttered.

Peeking over the backseat, Jodie saw Emma turn to Mark, a look of revelation growing on their faces.

"Home." they both said at once.

Emma stepped on the gas.

_____

Madison couldn't stop crying.

With every step she took, hand wrenched around Elena's, her panic threatened to strangle off her composure. While Mothra's entrance had caused a wave of relief to wash over her, they had both seldom spoken to her during the fight. She could feel that they didn't want her to worry, but that was just the problem.

She could feel them.

Their worry, their relief, their anger, their hurt - Madison could feel it all coursing through her mind. And it was too much.

She had felt brave when she left the Controller's ship, and she'd felt brave when she brought Ghidorah to Fenway. Determination ran through her blood when Godzilla breached ashore, beginning the battle to end all battles. But now it was all too much. Too much death, anger, fear, betrayal. Too many titans.

Nothing lasts, she thought, as her shoes slapped against the puddles filling the pavement, her heart thudding loud in her ears. Nothing. Not mom and dad, not Andrew. Not me. Not Boston. The world is falling apart.

Not all is lost young Spe- , Mothra spoke before being attacked from above by Rodan once more.

Madison continued to sob.

Boston had always been her happy place, the quiet point in her memory untouched by titans. Where she and her family played bocce on the Common, making up their own rules as they went along. Where her favorite climbing tree had been in her backyard, pretending she was in the middle of an isolated jungle. Even the sushi place around the corner where Andrew always wanted to go to, where he tricked her into eating wasabi by telling her it was green frosting. The zoo, the museums, the boats on the harbor, the library where she had checked out her first book. Boston was where everything had been good.

But that place only existed in her memory now. And looking back on it, the damage had begun when they returned from San Francisco. After the funeral, the fights between her parents started. And even after her father left, it was still her home, a place that they could all come back to. But now, as she and the others fled along Beacon Street, everything around her was being torn down.

She paused. Beacon Street.

Elena skidded to a stop, and for the first time since running from the stadium she let go of her hand. The Regulator doubled back to them after having ran ahead of them.

"Why are we stopping?" Elena called over the chaos.

Madison panted, trying desperately to catch her breath. Miraculously, in the midst of the hellish destruction all around her, her old house was still there. That same little townhouse where she had spent the majority of her short life, just on the edge of the Common. If she could just reach it, despite everything, maybe they'd be okay.

"Home," she sputtered through tired lungs. "It's home."

Walking closer, they all shouted when they heard Ghidorah's shrill cry from behind them. Glancing quickly, she saw him pounce from above on top of Godzilla, a flash of blue travelling up his spine.

Don't stop running, the titan reminded her.

I'll be okay, she repeated in her mind. We'll all be okay.

As they finally reached the steps, Madison shrieked as something huge crashed behind them just yards away. An inferno with something writhing within it - wings, claws, insectile legs. It wasn't Godzilla or Ghidorah. Mothra was dragged across the ground with a flurry of embers flying up around her as she chittered in pain.

This isn't like you, Mothra said. She sounded faint, distant. As though the statement wasn't directed towards her.

Madison couldn't watch anymore. She couldn't stand to see more destruction. More death.

Elena ushered her inside, feeling the singe of flames licking at her back. Once all of them were inside, she slammed the door shut. Madison found that she couldn't move any further, all the strength draining from her legs. Madison slid down to the floor as the house began to shake.

"Madison?" Elena's voice sounded so far away.

She covered her ears, drawing her knees up to her elbows as she began to feel herself hyperventilate.

C'mon kid, don't lose your strength, Godzilla's voice echoed at the back of her mind.

But all she could hear were the titan's cries all melding together in a scream that could shatter the heavens. Madison screamed with them.

She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders.

"Hey - Hey, stay with me!"

Who was she kidding, this place was no safer than anywhere else. It was nothing more than a straw house surrounded by very big wolves. Across the room, old family photos rattled on their shelves. That family in those pictures - like her memories of Boston - only existed in her memory.

Madison could feel her vision start to black out around the edges, the only thing filling her sight were blue and yellow flashing lights filtering from the windows around her.

_____

Elena gathered Madison in her arms.

"Madison - chingada madre - if you can hear me you have to wake up!"

She didn't respond, instead, a thin trail of blood leaked from her nose. This wasn't good.

With the titans all around them, she remembered the girl mentioning hearing a voice - one that wasn't Godzilla - speaking to her back on the ship. If she was still connected to both all at once, her mind could collapse from the strain. And she wouldn't let that happen, not to someone so young.

Speed-walking toward the Regulator, she motioned to follow her. Without question, she trailed after them.

Elena weaved her way through the house, passing by a wall of family photos. Seeing a younger, happier Madison, she pressed her lips together in a thin line.

"What are you doing?" the Regulator finally spoke up.

"She's stuck." Elena said. "I don't know how she managed to stay like this for so long but she's connected herself to two different titans. Simultaneously."

Finally reaching what she was looking for, she kicked open the door to the bathroom with her leg. The trio poured in as Elena set the girl down into the tub, climbing in after her and she folded her legs close to her body.

"But what about Ghidorah?"

Elena paused, thoughts running through her mind before coming to a determined conclusion. "I have to try."

The Regulator said nothing, only nodding sharply before folding her arms. "I'd say don't do anything stupid, but it's a bit late for that now, is it?"

Elena smiled sadly, letting out a chuff of a chuckle. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

_____

Jodie watched from the back of the car as Godzilla slammed Ghidorah through another building. Between their missiles and a supercharged Godzilla, and Ghidorah not being able to heal as fast as he was being wounded, it looked like they were winning. The dragon looked like he was trying to fight free from Godzilla's wrath and escape again, trying to find some break in the onslaught for him to fly away. But Godzilla stayed one step ahead of him.

Silently, Jodie cheered the big lizard on.

So far, their losses were unthinkable. The fleet, all those pilots, Serizawa - all sacrificed themselves to bring them to this. A single moment that would decide the fate of humanity.

Sure there were other titans out there, but with Godzilla in charge instead of that golden maniac, if things didn't get better, maybe they would at least not get worse.

But Jodie's thoughts were interrupted when just a few streets away, Mothra and Rodan were still battling it out. Locked together in a death spiral, the winged titans crashed into a bridge. It crumpled on impact like cardboard, and fire splashed all around them, setting everything it touched ablaze.

Oh no, Jodie thought, flinching. Mothra had definitely been ready for a fight, but that had to hurt.

But then she sprang up, finding purchase on Rodan's back and slashed her claws deep into him. The firebird screeched, leaping into the air and slamming his wings down so that both of them careened through another skyscraper and vanished from her line of sight. Flames exploded from inside the building and began to rapidly hail from above. Emma dodged as much as she could, but Jodie could still hear it hammering against the roof of the car.

Behind them, Godzilla continued beating Ghidorah. He seemed to be doing alright even without Mothra's assistance. As he slammed his tail into his side once again, it sent the dragon reeling into an already crumbling building. Ghidorah flapped his wings frantically, managing to pull himself away before Godzilla snapped his jaws shut on a wing, twisting his head like a crocodile as he sent the dragon back to the ground. The resulting shock wave carried smoke and debris for a mile or two, and the car Jodie had folded herself into rattled from the impact.

Come on, finish the bastard off, big guy, she thought frantically.

Godzilla seemed to have the same thought, roaring out a beam of blue fire against the dragon's back. Ghidorah shrieked in agony. All the while, the dull orange pulsing grew brighter and brighter, mixing with his signature blue glow. As Godzilla's brilliance shone through the smoke, Ghidorah's own golden light had dimmed to a sickly intermittent yellow. He almost looked a little pathetic, flailing against the lizard with nowhere to go.

As Godzilla continued hammering his powerful shoulders against the dragon, Ghidorah was just trying to escape, not even trying to fire a beam of lightning his way. Suddenly, with a hiss, Ghidorah's right head sneered before snaking out, struggling away from his tormenter. For a second Jodie thought that he was trying to separate himself from his body, striking out on his own. And maybe he could. If the dragon could regrow an entire head, then who knew what was possible.

But it quickly became evident to Jodie that that wasn't the dragon's intention.

There was no way to warn Godzilla as Ghidorah's right head zeroed in on a sputtering power plant, showering sparks down onto the street. His maw gaping wide, he bit down on the wires. Godzilla let out a puzzled rumble.

Despite all of the damage, most of Boston and its suburbs still had power. But now, every light around them and as far as her eyes could see strobed, going dark, lighting back up for a brief second, and then dimming again as the power grid struggled to handle the sudden massive drain on the system. Jodie's eyes widened in shock.

Ghidorah blazed back to a full charge, and something like the smell of batteries filled the air. Rising to his full height, wings and heads outspread, his eldritch light began to build in his throats. Then, golden lightning gathered around him and blasted from all three heads. The bolts went wild, branching into the sky as they went from three concentrated beams of energy to a thousand fractal streams of lightning, creating a web of destruction across the sky. Even though they were on the ground, Jodie could smell the burnt air around them.

As the hundreds of branching bolts spread through the sky, jagging through and around the aircraft still somehow intact, the chain reaction continued even after Ghidorah had already subsided, leaping to every possible object in the air. As the energy arced through the sky, pilots were electrocuted and engines were fried, burning down into the city below. Dozens of aircraft were gone in seconds.

There was a flash of gold in front of the car, but at least they were spared of being struck. Jodie took slow, deliberate breaths as she tried to get her pulse to ease up. Toward the front of the car, she could hear a cacophony of curses.

Even Godzilla was knocked from his feet, letting out a cry of shock and pain as he was hurled through the harbor and into a shipyard, stopping himself with a clawed arm that had dug deep into a skyscraper.

Jodie could feel the hair standing on end as she saw the titan catch his breath, looking as tired as she felt. A pang of empathy struck her as she saw a streak smoke off of the side of his face. Though he seemed mostly intact, a long band of raw skin streaked across his left eye.

Get up, Godzilla, she thought. Come on, you can't quit now.

As if hearing her words, Godzilla clambered back to his feet, almost seeming to sigh as he balanced himself on the remains of buildings next to him. Ghidorah remained standing at his full height, wings outstretched as his heads snapped at Godzilla, taunting him. The worst and largest of gashes across his chest from the lizard was already starting to close up, the holes that had been burned through his wings stitching together. The dragon seemed to celebrate his victorious comeback with another earth-shattering trill, stretching out his wings and taking to the air. He was headed right toward where Godzilla stood, still winded from the electrocution.

The radio still at Jodie's side crackled. She grabbed it, desperately trying to get the connection to hold.

"Are you guys alright up there?" she shouted.

"Wouldn't speak too soon if I were you." Stanton replied. "But you guys definitely won't be if you stay down there for long - Godzilla's radiation's reaching critical mass," he warned. "Six minutes 'till he blows!"

Before the feed on the radio cut off, Jodie could hear Foster's frantic voice. "Order all remaining craft to retre -"

That's if there's any left to retreat, she thought gravely. She had lost count of all the fallen a while ago. Turning off the radio, she leaned over the back seat.

"Shit, you guys catch that?" she yelled to the front of the car.

"Kinda wish I didn't." Barnes replied.

As Godzilla struggled to catch his second wind, Mothra didn't seem to be faring any better.

Locked in midair, she and Rodan tore at each other viciously as they bowled through the city, smashing through buildings and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

The car suddenly came to a stop as Mothra was thrown into the building directly in front of them. Her back hit it hard, and with a pained chitter she stayed there for a moment, stunned. And like a flaming arrow, Rodan appeared shortly afterward, pinning her to the building with his wings as his talons sunk deep into its steel foundations. Mothra was badly burned, and she was desperately flailing against the flying reptile's grasp to no avail. Like a ravenous vulture, Rodan began tearing into her wings with his beak. She swiped at his face with her smaller forelimbs, and suddenly Rodan broke off the attack, flying off.

But not far. He was building his speed, and with a strong flap of his wings he dove. Mothra climbed to the top of the skyscraper, weakly trying to move herself out of the way. But Rodan was far faster. Smashing into her once more, he snapped at her head. Mothra braced against the building, trying her best to squirm out of the way. Again and again, he tried but to no avail. Until, finally, he seemed to find his aim - until he suddenly froze in place, a frail screech spilling from his beak.

Groaning in agony, he glanced down, looking at the stinger lodged in his shoulder. He reared back, trying to fight free of Mothra's grasp but he couldn't. Her stinger was buried deep, all the way up to her thorax.

They both hung there for a moment, Mothra's eyes seeming to search Rodan's for something - if that were even possible. But then his thrashing weakened, and his flames dimmed. Retracting her stinger, the open wound glowed like cooling lava as the flying reptile slipped away. He fell, vanishing into the smoke he'd ignited with an agonizing screech. As he landed to the ground with a thud, lifting the car a foot into the air for a brief moment, his eyes rolled back. He was still breathing, but he wasn't about to rejoin the fight anytime soon.

Back ahead of them, Jodie saw Mothra clinging to the toppled building, trembling as her bioluminescence started to fade. She took a weak step, trying to push herself back into the air only to slip. She let out a frail cry. She sounded like she was in pain, like she was afraid. Instead of taking to the air, she sat there, gathering what little strength she had left. She had defeated Rodan, but it didn't look like she had much longer herself.

After what felt like an eternity, the jeep roared up Beacon Street, swerving around the burning carcasses of aircraft and piles of buildings. Through the chaos, Jodie caught occasional glimpses of places that had survived the fight. A small corner store was untouched, and a coffee shop was somehow still recognizable, even though the fire caused by Rodan and Mothra's fight would likely soon consume it just like the trees that had now become torches.

"It's just up ahead!" Mark called.

Through the smoke, he and Emma searched for their old home. Finally, she slammed on the breaks, Jodie having to brace herself before she slammed against the back seat again. Looking out the window, all relief that Jodie had drained from her body.

What was probably a house in the recent past had now collapsed into a smoking pile of rubble. Off in the distance, the white noise of titans fighting, planes crashing, and ships sinking made her ears ring as she exited the car with the others. If the kid had really been in there..she stopped her mind from going any farther.

"Madison!" Mark shouted, leaping from the car and diving straight into the ruins of his old home, tossing aside bricks and smoldering planks.

"Maddie!" Emma joined him, a ragged desperation evident in every movement in her body.

Jodie and the rest of G-Team filed out into the ruins, calling after the lost child as they pushed aside the wreckage. Jodie hands began to sting, coughing as sweat and smoke stung every inch of her body. A weird, acrid scent drifted on the breeze, and off in the distance something exploded.

Suddenly, like a cicada bursting from the ground after its long sleep, a pale arm sprouted from underneath a pile of rubble.

There was a weak coughing and what sounded like a voice calling for help. The arm limply tried to push the wall of debris away but not finding the strength to do so. Mark called after Emma as everyone converged on the spot. Lifting away the broken off piece of a wall, they uncovered a body alright.

But it wasn't Madison.

I thought they evacuated the city, Jodie thought in confusion, staring at the blonde woman that struggled to stand. Emma helped her up, roughly grabbing her arm.

"Where are they?" she said, anger evident in her voice.

They?

Coughing, the blonde woman pointed behind her. It was a broken bathtub, and beneath the pile of rubble that covered it was a small, pallid hand. On the count of three, they all lifted the wall from the tub's rim. Jodie's arms ached from the strain, but eventually they tossed it to the side.

Within the tub was Madison and another strange woman - though her name alluded her, she recognized her as the same one from the footage in Antarctica. They were folded together, and they both weren't moving.

Neither of them reacted as they were pulled from the tub, their limbs swinging limp as they dragged them out and lay flat on the ground. Their skin was pale and cold to the touch. Jodie glanced up, and for the briefest of moments she saw a look of raw despair painted on Mark and Emma's faces.

"Are they breathing?" Emma whimpered.

Mark cradled Madison in his arms, brushing her hair from her face. "Don't go," he whispered. "Please don't go."

Emma collapsed at his side, clutching the child's hand between her own.

The blonde woman staggered to the ground, taking the dark-haired one that had been found in the tub into her arms. She framed her face.

"Fight it, Elena." she whispered with conviction. "You're stronger than this. Fight him."

_____

Elena woke.

She was in the headspace, the same one she shared with Ghidorah. Bruised yellow clouds curled around her feet as she tread through the storm in her mind. A thick bolt of lightning flash just a few feet ahead of her.

If you haven't noticed already,

                      We're a bit busy at the moment.

                                    We aren't really in need of insects scrambling at our feet

Or do you just like us that much?

I'm not here for you

Then do us a favor and get crushed under some rubble

There was another flash of lightning, and this time Elena was knocked off of her feet, tumbling through a cloud. Ghidorah became nothing more than a black silhouette as she was pushed farther away from the dragon. She stopped herself, arms aching as she tried to push herself back on her feet. Her hands clenched into fists.

All you do, her voice trembled, but she didn't care. Is take. And take. And take. But do you even want it?

Ghidorah paused, his middle head snaking down toward her.

Excuse us?

You think you're some god, Elena stood back up, firmly planting her feet on the nonexistent ground beneath her. But you're just acting like a greedy brat

The clouds began to kick up, swirling into something that wanted to be a storm. Thunder shook the headspace as Ghidorah's heads all came within mere yards of where she stood, surrounding her in a circle of bared teeth.

We have bled countless worlds dry.

                        We have been here long before your kind was even a concept in the universe's mind.

                             And we'll be here long after

I almost feel sorry for you, Elena stepped closer to Ghidorah. Outstretching a hand and placing it on the tip of his snout, she took a deep breath.

You're just an animal, Ghidorah. And you'll die like one

Before the dragon had a chance to respond, the headspace began to collapse all around them. The last thing she heard before being sent back to the pitch black void was Ghidorah's trilling roar.

It felt weird, being all by herself. But she couldn't allow that to continue for another second. She had a girl to find.

_____

Madison woke.

Remembering the fear, the tumult that still raged outside, how everything was coming undone right before her eyes, how everything sort of shut off and faded to black. She sucked in a breath, but she found that she could not breathe.

She was still aware, there just wasn't anything to see, feel, or hear. It was like she was underwater, in the dark, all of her senses turned inward. The headspace.

Madison wondered for a moment if she was dead. She tried to move but her limbs just weren't there. Her panic had faded, but now it began to set in once again. What happened to her? If this was the headspace could Elena be here too? Was she even still okay? And where was the Regulator? Were they all dead?

She tried to shout for help, but found that she didn't have a voice either. She tried sending out a wave of thought, but found that it didn't travel far enough.

Maybe this was it. In her terror to escape the fight, she hadn't been able to see the big picture, unable to sort out who was winning. She flashed back to when they had entered the Common, back to Mothra and Rodan - the giant insect's beautiful, delicate-looking wings caught between the sharp hook of Rodan's beak, both engulfed in flame. Maybe Madison had lead them all to their demise.

She tried again to wiggle her arms and legs, but still nothing happened. It was as if she was suspended in midair. She wondered if she was even in her body anymore. Elena mentioned about bad things happening to those that stayed in the headspace for too long. And in that moment Madison had realized that she had been connected to Mothra and Godzilla when she blacked out. She messed up. Bad.

She wanted to cry. Mom's probably wondering where I am, she thought. Did she even make it to Fenway?

In that moment, the void all around her grew just a little lighter.

A faint blue illumination appeared, warm and familiar. It was just a spot at first, but then it began to expand, like she was nearing the end of a tunnel. Maybe she really was dying.

But then the glow took on a form as it grew nearer, and like that time on the roof of the stadium, other shapes began to form around her. Familiar shapes. She knew this place. The sounds of a rainforest began to fill her ears as the void opened up into a monochromatic blue-green forest, complete with birdsong and mist.

Madison found herself back in Yunnan. Everything was there - the containment facility's control room, the bas-reliefs on the temple walls - only it was all illuminated by the same teal light that emanated from Mothra. Madison found that she could move again, and as she walked through its familiar halls. And in the heart of the temple, where she and her mother had been taken from their relatively routine lives, was Mothra. But this time she was no longer just an oversized larva, it was her in her imago form. All slender limbs and downy fuzz complete with brilliant markings on gossamer wings. She was the most beautiful thing Madison had ever seen.

Like before, she felt her connection to the titan. And like before, she reached out to touch her. Only this time, she let her in.

As her fingers brushed against her soft down, Mothra's wings unfolded, splaying out before her. All of her fear was gone now, and for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace. The titan chittered a strange, lovely song. Although there were no words, Madison could understand. It felt as if she was telling her that everything would be alright. Feeling Mothra's heartbeat beneath her hand, for a moment, it harmonized with her own.

As her gaze trailed upward, she noticed something off about the titan. Upon closer inspection, Mothra looked hurt, her wings singed with holes burned through its tips. Madison's brows furrowed with worry.

Mothra..your wings, she thought. Are you gonna be okay?

The titan laughed wistfully. I think I should be asking you that question, young Speaker. But I'm alright, just a little tired is all

Something about that sent a shiver of dread down her spine. You can still get out of here, before Ghidorah -

It's not over yet, she interrupted. Godzilla..he is strong, but he needs me in ways you may not understand

I wish I could help you, she said through a silent sob. You don't deserve to die

I won't die, Speaker, Mothra lifted her chin with her smaller forelimbs. For creatures like me, that's just how it is. We're born, we live, and we die, repeating the cycle. This isn't my first time, you know

Mothra withdrew her claw. But if you stay here with me, you just might

...I don't understand

I've already helped you as much as I can, but if you're here when I...Mothra considered her words for a moment. This is something I was born to do, and you were not

It's not fair

I'm sure to something like you, it wouldn't be

In a heartbeat, Mothra's light began to fade, the titan's shape beginning to drift apart. Madison tried desperately to hold onto the vision, but found that it only continued to come apart.

But don't feel sad for me, young Speaker. Our connection will always exist, and you will live, but now there is something important I have to do. Or else none of us will

As the titan's shape began to unravel into a million strands of silk, carried off by the nonexistent wind, Mothra was gone, and so was her light.

Don't go, not yet -!

We'll meet again, Speaker. I believe that

In an instant the headspace reverted back to its blank state, the all-encompassing void. Stretching out endlessly all around her in utter silence.

Mothra? Madison called out, feeling the connection beginning to fade. Mothra?!

Silence.

Though she could move again, she didn't see the point. Madison was alone. There was no sign of Mothra or Elena. And there definitely was no sign of her mother. And unlike last time, Mothra hadn't thrown her out like Godzilla had. But she couldn't blame her. Even in the headspace Madison could feel that the titan had grown weak.

Madison curled into herself.

She didn't ask for any of this, didn't ask to be thrown into a world of monsters, to have these strange powers awakened without having any say - no matter how whimsical her mother had made it sound. She didn't hate the titans, even after this she didn't think she ever could. They were just animals after all. But in that moment Madison wished she could go back to that time in Boston, when she was only 6 years old with her brother and her parents. When everything was simple, when she was happy.

And now she was stuck in her own head with no way out.

Madison sniffled to herself, not hearing the muffled shout far in the back of her mind.

But the second time the muffled sound echoed, she did hear it. She couldn't make out what it was specifically, but it kept getting closer. And closer. And closer still until she could clearly hear a person's voice calling out her name.

Elena.

Madison didn't have enough time to register what was happening before her eyes when the woman all but tackled her, wrapping her arms around her in a hug. It was so surreal that she found herself frozen in place. Elena pulled away.

Are you alright? Are you hurt?

Y-Yeah. I think I'm fine, but how are you -?

I..I had to clear something up first. But it wasn't hard to find you

Elena placed a hand on her shoulder.

Now we have to wake up

In that same moment, Madison saw a new, harsher light. It wasn't like Mothra's warm, comforting light. Or Godzilla's strong, blue light. And along with this new vision, she heard familiar voices murmuring their names. And crying. She closed her hand and felt her fingers move. Her real ones. Taking a deep breath, smoky air filled her lungs.

Madison coughed as she sprung forward, lungs stinging from the burning air that surrounded her. Not too far away, she heard Elena take in a deep gasp.

And Mom and dad were there, both of them hugging her as they sobbed over her.

Maybe I did die, she thought. This can't be real.

But her body said otherwise. Every inch of it ached, but whatever Mothra had done seemed to work. Although she was nowhere near back to 100%, she felt just a little better.

"Mom?" she spoke with an audible rasp. "Dad?"

Through the rain that pelted her face, she felt her father pull her into a hug so strong she could barely move. Her mother joined him, wrapping her arms around them both. They said nothing, as all they could do was hold each other while the world raged in the background.

Andrew was gone, and Boston would soon be too. But sitting in the ruins of her old house as fire rained around them, she felt that they were home enough.

But before they could have the chance to release each other, Godzilla's roar bellowed not too far away. And she found that everyone else was staring off into the distance, so Madison wrenched her gaze from her parents to look at the source of the sound as well. She wished she hadn't.

Ghidorah was killing Godzilla.

She didn't understand, couldn't wrap her mind around the sudden switch in circumstances. They had been winning, right? Was this what Mothra was talking about?

As the dots connected within her mind, Madison found herself quickly becoming consumed by fear.

Madison watched helplessly as Ghidorah stalked toward the titan, who looked to be propping himself with a collapsed building. The scutes on his back glowed with a weak blue light that was hardly noticeable above the burning skyline. Godzilla didn't have the chance to get out of the way before Ghidorah pushed himself into the air, springing onto the lizard talons-first like a bird of prey.

The dragon's claws dug into Godzilla's neck, and as his arms weakly grabbed at Ghidorah's legs, he was pushed back with ease.

Ghidorah's tails wrapped around his body, crushing what life remained from him. Madison flinched as Godzilla's dorsal spines cracked from the stress. And then the dragon's wings started to beat, stronger, harder until - impossibly - the two began to ascend. It was slow at first, but the more he flapped his wings the more momentum he built as the titans rose hundreds of feet in the air.

No, Madison thought. No no no no no.

She felt the world fall apart from beneath her feet. Everything was starting to go away again. She couldn't even feel her parent's arms around her. All she could hear was the beat of Ghidorah's wings and Godzilla's cries of agony.

No you too. Not you.

One of the dragon's necks wrapped around Godzilla's, coiling like a boa constrictor. Godzilla struggled to breathe, uselessly clawing at the head until his cries died out with a pathetic, high-pitched whine. His body slackened, head lolling to the side, his arm falling away limply. Ghidorah continued to rise.

Wake up, Godzilla! Wake up!

There was no response.

They had risen so high she could hardly see them anymore. If Ghidorah was from space like the Regulator had said, had he left the atmosphere? Was he going to leave the titan in its vast expanse to die?

Madison soon got her answer, and she felt her stomach drop to the floor.

Mercilessly, Ghidorah's claws unhinged themselves from their grasp, and Godzilla slipped away.

Like an angel cast from the heavens, he fell. And as he fell, he began to burn, and as the flames surrounded him he hardly resembled the titan that she knew. He looked like a meteor plunging to earth. Godzilla's roar was lost over the sound of his impact, and Madison could only stand there, slack-jawed. Nobody around her made a sound or moved an inch.

The titan struck the ground like a bomb, a plume of smoke and debris flying into the air. And when the dust settled, Madison saw him lying motionless in the crater his body had carved into Boston.

Get up, get up, please get up, she sent out her thoughts in waves, hoping they would reach him.

The response was far away, and it was hardly audible - so far away from the powerful voice she had grown used to. But it was him.

I'm sorry. I just gotta rest my eyes for a little while

You can't, you'll die!

Godzilla chuckled weakly. But before he could respond, Ghidorah landed in front of him, bolts of lightning accenting his arrival. He rose above the fallen titan, his electrical charge building, preparing to end their duel.

This couldn't be it. Everyone that had died, everything that had led up to this moment, it couldn't have been all for nothing. With Godzilla dead and the ORCA destroyed, what chances did they have? Not even Elena could control him, and with nothing to keep Ghidorah in check, he would remake the world as he saw fit. And there was nothing any of them could do but watch as the dragon's charge increased, the bottled lightning of a hundred storms building in their throats. Ghidorah's fury was spilling from his mouths, and soon enough he would no longer be able to keep it in.

But like Ghidorah, Madison had been so focused on Godzilla, that she hadn't noticed the small, sharp claw rising from behind the titan's back.

Godzilla seemed to notice it too, a low pained rumble sounding from his throat as he feebly turned his head to watch the torn and battered Mothra pull herself onto him.

But you just got back, she heard Godzilla whisper.

She could barely stand, but with all the strength she could muster, she stood tall, smoke emanating off of her burning wings as she chittered at Ghidorah. No matter how hard she tried, Madison couldn't understand what she was saying. But her actions had painted a glimmer of an idea in her mind.

Ghidorah hissed, tails rattling as Mothra spread her wings out like a shield, her fading blue light bathing Godzilla in a faint glow.

With one strong push and a defiant screech, she launched herself at the dragon. She could hardly get airborne, and she didn't get far. The lightning in Ghidorah's mouths burst forth, striking through and around her.

With a bright flash of yellow and blue light, Mothra vanished. All that remained was a cloud of glowing particles that refracted every color of the rainbow. Like snow in the moonlight, they began to fall gently upon Godzilla, his body pulsing with a faint orange light.

Godzilla let out a mournful groan, letting his head fall back to the ground.

Madison screamed, suddenly feeling nauseous as she collapsed in her father's arms. A few of the people around her couldn't bare to watch - Elena among them - while others looked on in shock or horror. Everyone was silent.

The dragon's eyes sparkled with dark, insidious glee as he regarded the ethereal cloud that was all that remained of Mothra. Her sacrifice didn't seem to sway him in the slightest as all three heads slithered toward Godzilla. His forked tongues flickered in and out as he hissed, mocking. It wasn't the expression of an animal that had bested another, or of a predator regarding its prey. Ghidorah enjoyed killing. He lived for it, for the pain it caused, the power it gave.

Godzilla had said something in response, something so consumed with hatred and grief that Madison couldn't quite catch it. Her ears began to ring. Every sound around her had become drowned out by her hiccuping sobs.

But through her tears, she saw something..weird.

At this distance, it was hard to tell, but it looked like that faint orange light was turning into a dull, reddish-orange sheen, as if lava was welling up from beneath his skin.

Despite everything, she could feel that he wasn't dying. He was growing stronger.

"He's not dead." she muttered.

"What was that?" her dad responded.

"He's not - dead!" she repeated, struggling to free herself from his grasp as she ran toward Elena.

"We have to distract him, are you still connected?"

"Hold on, distract who?" she said, utterly confused.

"Ghidorah - Godzilla's not dead but he will be if we just stand here!"

Elena struggled to find a response. "I-I can't, I'm not - I had to cut him off to find you. I'm sorry."

Her father turned toward her mother, a sudden look of realization growing on his face. "We have to work fast."

"To do what?" she asked.

He nodded to someone behind her. Suddenly, a woman ran to the jeep behind them and came back holding a battered piece of equipment - the ORCA. Up close, she realized that the woman was Gill's wife. She handed it to her mother.

"You can't be serious." her mother said, looking incredulously at her father.

But he was, and everyone saw it. So they got to work.

"Sam," Jodie spoke into a handheld radio. "We're gonna need a ride."

#godzilla #king of the monsters #godzilla king of the monsters #kotm #godzilla fanfic #leviathanfic

[sp4c3-0ddity]

Found and Lost

remember me expounding on a bizarre post-apocalyptic android!Pidge AU in this post?? well, here are ~4800 words!! 

setting somewhat inspired by that in Nausicaa

if you’re scared of creepy crawlies (specifically centipedes) you might want to skip that...attack at the end of the last scene; also warning for non-graphic (implied really) nudity

enjoy!!

The first thing Lance had noticed about Outside was how humid it was. The air filtered through his breathing mask sat heavily in his lungs, and the mask itself stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Sweat pooled in the small of his back underneath his pack, and he worried he drank the water in his canteen too rapidly in his effort to avoid dehydration. The mask’s lenses fogged up, but he couldn’t wipe it away without taking it off and exposing himself to the air’s toxins.

Moss covered every inch of the ground, absorbing the sound of his footsteps like a plush carpet. Leafy vines flowering in a myriad of colors and textures wound around tree branches and massive trunks and along the ground. Roots arched up so high Lance had to watch his step and climb over them. Insects with gossamer-thin and brightly patterned wings fluttered through the air, alighting on flowers and touching his gloved hand when he held it up.

The beauty of it took his breath away - and would do so quite literally if he wasn’t careful.

Very little sunlight penetrated the thickly intertwined branches overhead, just enough to see by but not nearly enough to be blinding. Motes of dust and pollen spun through the air, and a small yellow lizard lounging on a sunny root caught his eye when its pink tongue lazily flicked out of its jaws.

Lance had never seen so much color - so much green - in his life.

He rested his hand against the trunk of a tree, gazing around this forbidden world…wishing he had someone to share it with.

Something glinted in his periphery, and when Lance turned his head, his eyes shot open at the sight of sunlight flashing off metal.

His grip on the rifle tightened, heart skipping a beat. Had he come across an expedition by accident or was it something more sinister?

But when standing still and listening told him nothing, he crept closer to the source of his trepidation, pushing away the vines that grew thickly over a…

Structure, Lance realized, his eyes widening.

He stood before a gaping doorway, and the glint of metal had come from mostly corroded hinges that no longer held a door.

Humanity hadn’t always lived trapped behind a wall, shielded as well as they could be from a world that could kill them with a single lungful of unfiltered air.

He stepped over the threshold, his rifle at the ready, wary of anything lurking in the shadows. Cobwebs stuck to his clothes, making his skin crawl, but they were few enough that he was only disgusted rather than fearful.

His boots crunched over broken glass, a rotten wood floor creaking as he ventured deeper into the structure. A low croon made him freeze in place, but a heartbeat later a dove launched itself into the air and flew past him with a flapping of its wings.

Lance sagged, tension deflating from him. So he only startled a bird…

The further into the building he stepped, the darker it grew. He fumbled in his pack for the torch and flicked it on, casting the light around a room littered with scraps of wood, lichen and mold-covered beams exposed under a holey ceiling.

“Any minute now,” he mumbled, “something’s going to fall from the ceiling and eat my face…”

Water dripped steadily from an unknown source, the sound filling the room and getting louder as Lance sneaked through another doorway, this one with a decomposing wooden door still hanging from its hinges. His light fell on a sink in the corner with a rusted faucet, drops pooling in its opening before falling.

“Bet I wouldn’t need a purifying tablet before drinking that,” Lance mused sarcastically. He turned out of this room and back, pausing in another doorway.

The torch shone on a face.

Lance’s breath caught in his throat, a strangled shout escaping him as his heart raced. He stumbled backwards, tripping over a piece of wood before catching himself in the doorway.

When he calmed enough - when his heart didn’t pound in his ears and he could breathe again - he approached cautiously. If someone died while on an expedition and no word was brought back to their family, then Lance could—

Oh, right, he wasn’t allowed Outside.

He shook that concern away - he should be more worried about whatever killed them rather than who would kill him once he returned home - and crouched beside the body.

Round, pale face, relaxed expression, closed eyes, light and wavy brown hair that brushed ears, spectacles with shattered lenses perched on the edge of a nose, vines creeping in through a window and wrapping around the body…

It took seconds for him to recognize there was something very strange about this person.

“Y-you’re not human,” he breathed. No one could survive exposure to the toxic air this far from the Wall’s protective bubble, not for long, and whoever this was hadn’t a single sign of decomposition on them - no gaunt cheeks, no cold complexion, no maggots writhing under their skin…

And when Lance dared to tug off his glove and stroke their cheek, it felt as smooth as porcelain but as soft as silk under his thumb.

He pushed aside the dense vines, delicate white petals falling to the floor, in an attempt to disentangle the body and tug it out. His lip curled when the motion disturbed a rat that skittered away with an indignant squeak, and his fingers tore sticky cobwebs to shreds.

Heat rushed to Lance’s face when he revealed a little more than he expected.

Rags hung off the slight body, but they were so frayed and eaten away that they left little of a feminine figure to the imagination.

Lance averted his gaze and guessed, “So you’re…kind of human.”

He sat back on his heels with his arms crossed and eyes fixed on the moldy floor, considering. A part of him wanted to take them - it? Her? - back home with him, but it was obvious they - it? She? - wasn’t alive. No hint of breath whispering from her nose or lips, no warmth emanating from her skin, no heartbeat under his ear when he pressed it to her chest.

(He tried not to think about what else touched his ear…)

But she looked perfectly intact, even healthy despite her pallor.

If he did carry her with him - which would make defending himself from attack by dangerous animals…hard - he’d have to find some way to sneak her through the Wall without alerting the guards and incurring Marco’s or Veronica’s wrath.

Lance sighed and picked his way to the structure’s entrance in time to watch the shadows lengthening, the dense flora coming alive with the screeching, croaking, hissing, and howling of hidden fauna. In the moonlight that filtered through the branches and bathed the forest in a pale white light shapes and shadows moved, concealed and all the more sinister for it.

His skin prickled with tension as he flicked off his torch to avoid attracting a predator to the unnatural light, and he retreated into the crumbling building.

So much for returning home before sunset…

There was no way one of his siblings wouldn’t find out now, no way his absence hadn’t been noticed.

Lance returned to the room with the not-human body, shrugging out of his jacket - the humidity retained so much of the day’s heat he didn’t need it for warmth - and draping it over her front to avoid…looking. He sat before her with his legs crossed, taking off his pack and digging through it for a nutrient packet. He dumped the contents into his specialized canteen, shaking to make sure it dissolved properly, and inserted the straw into the opening in his mask.

The stuff tasted foul on his tongue, plain vitamins and minerals and proteins with no real flavor. But he swallowed anyway, sipping slowly to avoid finishing it too quickly before he found a water supply to replenish the water in his canteen.

Exhaustion crept into his muscles after the hours of trekking, and he longed to take off his mask and dump water onto his face. He already missed his evening routine…

Maybe his mother had a point, forbidding him from training as an Excavator.

Lance lay down on the dirty floor, his pack serving as a lumpy pillow. He clutched the torch, flicking it on and off out of boredom as he waited for sleep to take him.

But the noise of Outside kept him awake, the hair on the back of his neck rising as if something watched him.

The torch’s beam landed on a pair of brown eyes.

“Ah!” Lance shouted, bolting upright and scrambling backwards away from her, careful to keep her in his sight as he reached for his rifle.

A strange whirring sound came from her, and her lips turned down into a slight frown. “W-w-w-what happened?” she whispered, so low he almost didn’t hear her.

Lance raised his hands, waving them while his heart pounded an uneven rhythm. “I-I didn’t mean to turn you on!”

She closed her eyes, almost as if opening them had cost her too much effort, and hummed. “I-I was low on ch-charge then…”

He crawled towards her, curious despite the tension in his limbs, and when he hovered just in front of her, her eyes flicked open again. “Charge?” he asked, raising a confused eyebrow. “Like…batteries?”

“Hmm…” she sighed, eyelids slipping shut again. “N-need light to ch-charge…”

Lance blinked, his mouth hanging open until he understood. He fumbled for his dropped flashlight and shined it on her face.

Rather than squinting like would’ve been expected, she opened her eyes and smiled. “S-sunlight is better,” she explained without much intonation, “b-but artificial light will suffice until s-sunrise.”

“So…what are you?” Lance wondered before he could stop himself. “You look like a girl”—he swallowed and pushed the image of what his jacket hid out of his mind—”but you’re…not human.”

“Good observation,” she said in what might’ve passed for a sarcastic tone. “I-I’m the android KT-005, but m-my programmer n-nicknamed me P-Pidge…”

“Well”—Lance pressed his thumb to his chest—”you can call me Lance, even though I’m a—”

But she ignored him. Her head turned, something audibly spinning in her neck, to take in their surroundings. “W-where is he?”

“Who?”

“M-my programmer…M-Matt…”

“I don’t know who that is,” Lance told her, his brow furrowing. “No one lives here - no one can live here unless they want to be dead in a few days.”

The girl - android, Pidge - frowned. “B-but h-he promised he’d come back,” she said. “I-I told him I-I’d go get him if he didn’t…”

She sounded so much like a confused child Lance’s chest ached. “Whoever he was, he’s long gone now.” He rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, although he didn’t know if she could feel it. “I’m sorry.”

“N-no…” Pidge’s face screwed up, nose wrinkling and lip curling; it was such an obvious expression of pain despite the lack of tears.

And Lance, not knowing what else to do for a grief-stricken stranger, embraced her.

It felt like hugging a pillar, something that wouldn’t - perhaps couldn’t - return the gesture. She sat stiffly in his arms, didn’t even tremble - although he didn’t know if that was due to her lacking charge or a feature of being an android - or sob.

But she rested her forehead on his shoulder, and Lance took that for reciprocation.

“H-how long has it been?” Pidge asked, bursting their bubble of silence.

He confessed, “I don’t know…a few centuries since the air became too toxic to breathe.”

“O-oh. Th-then that’s why you wear a mask.”

“Yeah, if I take this off I’d die quickly.” He pulled away from her, his hands on her shoulders, and met her eyes when she glanced up. “I’ll spend the night here and leave in the morning…” His eyes narrowed, and he wondered, “Do you want to come with me?”

He couldn’t leave her alone.

“I-I don’t know…” Her gaze drifted down, a deep frown on her face.

“There’s no way your programmer is still alive,” Lance pointed out. “He’s probably been dead for centuries, and somehow you survived without any damage.”

“I-I can’t walk without more charge,” Pidge said, her eyes flicking up.

“Do you have batteries?”

“There are photo-voltaic cells under my synthetic skin,” Pidge said. “Th-they need to charge if I’m to gain more mobility.”

“How long does that take?” Lance asked.

“A-an hour in direct sunlight, more if indirect.”

Could he spare that long in the morning? Even at high noon little sunlight made it through the dense growth overhead…

Well, he’d made it this long; what was another half day?

“All right, well, let’s get some sleep,” Lance said, lying back down.

“I don’t sleep. I only shut down.”

“Then…do that?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow at the ceiling. “Wake me up if you hear or see any—”

“I only shut down when I lose all power,” Pidge said almost clinically. “If you turn off your flashlight, I will shut down within a half-hour, and you will have to carry me outside in the morning.”

“I can do that,” Lance said, raising and flexing an arm while flashing a smirk. “You don’t look—”

“I’m heavier than I look.”

His face fell, but he couldn’t help rolling his eyes and grumbling, “Guess we’ll see in the morning. For now, I’m going to sleep. And can you close your eyes? You don’t blink, and it’s kind of freaking me out…”

***

Finding a spot sunny and sheltered enough proved harder than Lance expected, and the sun must've been well and truly over the horizon, warming the earth and turning the air a yellow-green, by the time Pidge's eyes flickered open.

"You ready to go?" he asked, crouching over her.

Pidge blinked slowly and said, "No...how far away is your residence?"

Lance raised an eyebrow. "I think I trekked about ten miles yesterday." He rifled in his pack and tugged out the wrinkled map he'd use to navigate...only to realize he hadn't bothered to make note of landmarks - except the structure where he found Pidge, which wasn't even on the map - or leave any other trail for him to follow back to the Wall.

He groaned, his shoulders slumping and dread curdling in his gut. His eyes drifted to Pidge's, taking in her curious gaze, before he turned back to the forest with his hands tight on his rifle.

How was he going to confess to her that he was lost?

But she spared him the need when she wondered, "Are you expecting something to attack us?"

Lance sighed - of course they wouldn't starve because the forest and the predators that stalked through the trees would kill them (or maybe just him since Pidge wasn't made of flesh and blood) before they even made it through his rations of nutrient packets and purification tablets! "Yes," he admitted to Pidge, "I am."

A heartbeat later, he realized how that sounded and spun towards her, kneeling on the ground and reassuring her, "But that won't happen! You're safe with me."

Well, she'd be safer with a trained Excavator, but she didn't need to know that.

Pidge frowned. "What are you expecting?" The machinery in her neck whirred as she turned her head, taking in the dense vegetation, the forest alive with the calls of birds and the hissing of reptiles and the buzzing of insects. "I-is there a war?" Her gaze roved down to stare at her small hands - visible because he'd rolled up the sleeves of his jacket for her - while she mused, "If it's been centuries, surely it would've ended by now..."

Lance blinked. "War?" He shook his head - it didn't matter - and scoffed, "Only war these days is man versus nature...and nature's winning."

"Then whose attack are you expecting, Lance?" Pidge insisted, her brow furrowing with concern.

"Uh..." He had to mentally congratulate himself for managing to worry an android, which...weren't they meant to be emotionless? But before he could ask about that, Pidge prodded him in the ribs.

"H-hey!" he exclaimed, pushing her hand away. "I'm glad you're getting your mobility back, but can you not—"

"Answer my question," she said, her fingers weakly fisting in his shirt. "Are you in danger?"

Lance licked his lips, her use of "you"...startling. And from this close he could see the details in her eyes, the shutter like that of a camera behind her pupils, the yellow color not as...yellow as he'd thought.

Brown...her eyes were brown.

"Lance?" Pidge prompted, jerking him from his thoughts both with his name and with a tug on his shirt.

"W-what? Yes, I'm in danger, and so are you." He grabbed her hand and pulled it off his shirt before bolting to his feet and circling their vicinity, peeking around the wide trunk of a moss-covered tree. "It's more dangerous at night, but there are plenty of predators creeping around during the day that would just love a taste of your flesh." He glared over his shoulder at Pidge before tapping his wristwatch.

"I don't have flesh, or blood for that matter," she pointed out. "If something attacks, it would be wiser to focus your energy on defending yourself since nothing will be interested in consuming me."

“Well, you never know what a stinging bear is in the mood for,” Lance said, forcing a smile onto his lips in a pathetic semblance of joking.

“Bears don’t sting…”

“Maybe not in your time.” Lance stretched with his arms extended over his head, a groan escaping him. His back and neck ached from sleeping - or dozing; the forest’s night sounds kept him from a proper rest - on the floor, and he longed for his own bed in the city, safe behind the Wall and far away from anything that would want to eat his face off.

Never mind that he got the chance to rescue helpless, sleeping androids like Pidge…although the efficacy of his rescue was still up in the air.

He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “So you have…feelings.”

“Yes.” Pidge toyed with a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket, an awfully human mannerism. “I suppose you’re accustomed to androids with none.”

“Well, androids are just a thing of stories now,” Lance told her. “We have more important…things to build.” Ignoring a twinge of guilt at his word choice, he propped his rifle against his shoulder and paced in a short line. “I guess an android without feelings would be as shocking to me as an android with them.”

“Stories?” Pidge stared at him, her eyes wide and incredulous. “No more androids?”

“None, except…I don’t think you’re the first that Excavators find? I mean, I guess I’m not technically an Excavator”—he rubbed the back of his neck as heat rushed to his face—”but I’ve seen some of the stuff they bring back.” His gaze drifted from the top of her head - her untidy mess of hair draping to her shoulders - down past the hem of his coat that brushed just under her knees. “None of it is in as good condition as you are, Pidge.”

Pidge raised an arm, examining the back of her hand. “That’s because my skin was of the latest synthetic model.” Her fingers flexed, no trace of blue blood vessels trailing under her skin. “I was - and am, I suppose - the only one of my kind in more than one way. A pity the skin was wasted on me…”

When her eyes fell, Lance guessed with a tightening in his chest that she thought of her programmer again.

“What do you mean by wasted?” he wondered.

“My programmer designed me to establish deeper connections with humans,” Pidge explained with an almost faraway look in her eyes. “I can feel, even if I can’t express it in a human way, and I can long, and I have a will.”

“So you express it in an android way?” Lance half-teased, a smirk pushing at his lips.

“I express it in my way,” Pidge told him, shrugging. “I can’t cry or blush anymore than I can bleed, so I have to find some other way to make my feelings known.”

“And you were the only one like that?”

She nodded, a sad smile on her lips. “No one wanted an emotional android,” she said. “Anyone my programmer tried to sell the designs to always said that if they wanted someone who could tell them no, they would…find a human partner.”

“Partner?” Lance frowned, crossing his arms. “What do you—”

But Pidge’s face twisting in distaste and anger told him everything he needed to know, his own skin running hot in answering fury.

“That’s—what the hell? Your programmer built you for—”

“No!” she snapped, her anger turning onto him so suddenly he took a step back. “My programmer only wrote the code that makes me function, and he designed me with the capacity to forge multiple and varied emotional bonds.”

Lance’s jaw dropped, stunned by her vehement defense of her programmer. “So he was like your…father?” he said lamely.

“He was my brother,” Pidge corrected, her face screwing up. “His father also became mine.” But her expression smoothed eerily before he could even consider comforting her.

Lance sighed, shifting his feet, and asked her, “How much longer till you can walk? We need to be on the move soon.”

Once he figured out which way to walk, he remembered with a creeping shame and a shiver of fear.

Pidge wiggled her bare toes, a grimace of effort crossing her face before she said, “Another ten minutes until I’m able to walk, but another hour until I’m fully charged, which I would prefer since I have been so long drained of—”

“No time,” Lance said. “Can you charge as you walk?”

“I charge as long as there is light,” she said, scowling at him.

“Good, so as soon as you can stand—”

Lance cut himself off when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His grip on his rifle tightened, and he stepped backwards towards Pidge, wary as his eyes scanned the surrounding trees.

“Lance?”

He waved a hand towards her, bidding her to stay quiet, though his heart pounded so loudly he feared it wouldn’t make a difference. The scent of rot reached his nose, his lip curling in disgust.

The shadows shifted, branches shaking, and a long, sinuous, many-legged shape slithered between them.

It hissed and charged.

Lance’s blood froze, his eyes wide and legs refusing to budge, but Pidge’s shout of alarm unstuck him. He scrambled to angle his rifle, finger finding the trigger, but it refused to budge.

“No, no no no—”

His heart raced so fast he would’ve feared it giving out if not for the nightmare bearing down on him, its mandibles clicking and grating, the jerky motion of its body making his skin crawl. He tried shooting again, not even bothering to aim, but it stuck.

Every expletive he’d ever heard escaped his lips as he threw the rifle aside and fumbled for the long knife at his belt. The hilt sat clumsily in his gloved hand, and he doubted it would make any kind of dent in its tough carapace, but he stood his ground.

“Lance, get out of its way!” Pidge shouted.

“And let it take—”

“It can’t kill me!”

Her voice sounded closer this time, but he didn’t register why until a gunshot fired from behind him.

Silence descended over the forest for half a heartbeat.

Until the giant, unscathed centipede hissed in fury and turned.

Lance turned with it, his eyes shooting wide at the sight of Pidge kneeling, her teeth gritted and his rifle clutched in her hands. “What the—”

She fired a second shot, flinching at the gun’s kickback, but she held firm.

But the monster only grew more enraged, barreling past Lance and targeting Pidge.

“No!” He dove towards her - she was clearly still weak from the way she hobbled backwards with a gasp - intent on shoving her behind him, but recoiled when something fizzled on his clothes.

Drops of liquid burst from the monster’s mandibles, eating through his sleeve and burning into his skin. Lance grimaced, pain shooting deep into his nerves, and clutched at his arm. But he was undeterred; with Pidge so immobile, he needed to get to her, to grab her and flee—

A snick of metal echoed through the trees, and a distant gunshot fired.

Something struck the back of the centipede’s neck, making it rear on its hind legs with a pained screech.

Lance took advantage of it and ran for Pidge, scooping her up. But before he could turn and run, he faltered, her shocking weight making him stumble.

“I told you,” Pidge said, trying to hop out of his arms.

“But—”

“I think I can walk now,” she protested, and she slipped down before he could stop her.

Her feet landed heavily, sinking into moss, but she kept an arm around his neck.

A gaping hole in the skin at her neck, peeking out over the collar of his coat, caught his eye, his breath catching in alarm. “Pidge, you’re—”

The monster trumpeted, startling hidden birds into flight, and dove for them.

Lance held Pidge close to him, pinching his eyes shut and bracing himself against more of the creature’s venom. The drops could burn through his flesh, but they wouldn’t get to her.

The attack never came.

Metal sliced through soft meat, a disgusting squishing sound that drew a wince from him, before something big fell and the ground trembled under his feet.

Lance dared to squint through his eyelashes, but his eyes shot all the way open when he spotted the arching, segmented body of the monster lying prone, its many legs sticking into the air at odd angles.

Over it stood two figures:  Shiro, reloading a rifle, and Keith, polishing the blade on a long knife.

His breath caught as relief filled him. His legs finally gave out, and he fell to his knees, trembling. Pidge went with him, her arm still looped around his shoulder and leaning heavily against him.

“That’s a centipede,” she said hollowly. “Why is it so big?”

Shiro approached after shouldering his rifle, his eyes wide behind his face mask, and said, “Your Highness? What’re you doing Outside?”

“‘Your Highness’?” Pidge echoed, her eyes wide as she turns her head towards him. “But there isn’t any royalty in this—”

Lance elbowed her in the side, earning himself a grimace when her ribs proved harder than he expected and the shock traveled up his arm.

But her speaking brought her to the Excavators’ attention, and Keith’s brow furrowed as he laid eyes on her. “What happened to your mask?” he demanded, crouching before them.

“And…who are you?” Shiro wondered. “I know all the Excavators, and you’re not—”

“I found her,” Lance interrupted before Pidge could introduce herself. “She, uh…she’s my friend.”

He mentally kicked himself; he’d been inventing stories and excuses for his rule-breaking his entire life, so surely he could do better?

But finding a living human alive Outside - much less an android, something not human - already defied reality.

“You do seem…close,” Keith observed dryly.

Heat rushed to Lance’s face, but before he could retort, Pidge sighed and confessed, “I’m KT-005, but my programmer nicknamed me Pidge. I was…shut down for more years than I can count with limited data, but Lance woke me by accident last night. I…” A grimace crossed her face and lifted her eyes to Shiro’s. “Nothing is as I remember it, but I need to know what happened to my programmer and his father.”

Shiro held her gaze for a long heartbeat. He glanced at Keith, who only stared back with wide, bewildered eyes before shrugging, and at Lance. “So you snuck Outside and found a—what are you, miss?”

“An android,” Pidge replied. For a second she almost looked shy as a slight smile pushed at her lips.

“Whoa,” Keith breathed.

Shiro, though, looked less shocked, less impressed. He raised his hand - the cybernetic one painstakingly replaced by Duke Lotor’s mother - and curled his metal fingers into a fist.

A rapid whirring from Pidge drew Lance’s attention back to her. When he took in her wide eyes, fixed on Shiro’s hand, he shook her and muttered, “Pidge, what’s wrong?”

She pointed and said, “His hand, it’s…just like”—her eyes narrowed, her grip on Lance tightening—”a prototype my programmer and his father designed.”

#filed under: AUs i may or may not expand on #voltron #plance #pidgance #lidge #flirtyrobot #reem writes fic #i haven't posted fic in a bit or even written that much lately #but i also finished the first draft of my zine fic last night so #to celebrate i post a fic i've had done for over a week lol

[mx-bebe31-blog]

Nyx!Changkyun

So originally, I found something about a spirit named German who was a water spirit. German was in charge of water, rain, hailstorms. People thought they could appease German by making dolls of him that would stop him from bringing drought, famine, heavy rainstorms, or hailstorms. So this is a rendition from that.

No warnings

Yay for my first fulfilled request! Requests are open! <3

Nyx!Changkyun

You were a firm believer in appeasing the spirits to give your community a fruitful life

From whenever the elders did a ritualistic dance to a certain thump of handmade drums

To when you had to be present and silent during a live animal sacrifice

You knew that there was a purpose for it, otherwise the whole community wouldn’t be so invested into their doings

But while you, at your age and position in the village, didn’t have to participate in most sacred rituals, there was one that you were always called upon for

All of the ones who were thought of to be pure in both body and soul were to prepare offerings meaningful to themselves and their personal connection to German

German was a male spirit who is said to gift rain and bountiful storms when it is needed

However if someone was not pure, or if someone did not have a good spiritual connection with German, it could mean drought, famine, and severe hailstorms that would ruin your village’s crops and land

And you wouldn’t let that happen because of you or your connection with German

So you counted the exact days of the month to know when it was the day of the new moon

Most pure people when on the full moon, where it is said that the moonlight charges the river, giving offerings an extra boost of spiritual abundance

But while you knew the moon and the water were strongly correlated together, you just felt it in your heart that the new moon was where your personal connection to the earth lies

You usually spent a week just preparing your basket of repentance

You hand wove every basket yourself, and put in fresh picked grass and wheat at the bottom. You would then intricately organize the single parts that made up your usual offerings

Things special to you included raspberries your grandmother grew, a sprinkle of the earth’s dry sand, flowers and neatly placed flower petals

In the middle was your handmade doll that was supposed to emulate the spirit of German.

This was the most important part. You had to make sure German wouldn’t be upset by your vision of him

And then once it was all prepared, you put in a bird’s feather and any vegetable that would survive the trip down the river

Once the new moon arrived, you traveled to the river bank and bowed at the edge, whispering and begging for whatever you may need whether it was sun, rain, or just a hope that there would be no drought this month

And then you gently send your basket down the river

Unbeknownst to you (or anyone else for that matter) German was a spirit who really did exist and who really did receive the many offerings of pure people

He didn’t know where the name German derived from, but he liked to call himself by his goddess given name, Changkyun

He sat on his stone throne in front of the waterfall in leisure most days, finding the serenity of where the river bank ended peaceful enough for him to reside

He was alone, and the offerings gave him happiness and power

The village was small, but he didn’t mind, he controlled the weather of many different communities

At first he thought of it as ill will when an offering came to him on a day that wasn’t the full moon - it was what he was taught was the most powerful day of the lunar month

But when the sky was at it’s darkest, a basket would come floating down the river and bump his knees as he sat in the water

He knew it wasn’t the usual time for offerings, but somehow it made him feel less lonely on the darkest night of the month - so he accepted it

It was nothing special of a basket - usually people thought of slain animals or jewels would make any god happy and content

But when Changkyun received those kinds of gifts he couldn’t help but think it was too much of an effort, almost like it were a try-hard trying to keep him at ease

But the baskets you sent him were simple and meaningful - he could sense what was in your heart whenever he picked up your doll of him

Most dolls were a mold of a human with clay stuck with twine, sticks, or stones. It was a crude image to him, but it was still enough to keep him from destroying land - at least the humans tried

But yours were more intricate and less harsh. If you did use clay it was to stick pieces together, and sand was molded into the figure to make it smoother to the touch. There were no jagged twigs or tied twine. You used yarn and ribbon - he liked the ribbon. He liked it a lot. It was pretty and colorful and painted him in a brighter image.

He also liked that a fresh fruit or vegetable was sent along with berries. Changkyun liked this more than grotesque dead animals or blood spattered baskets.

It was almost like Changkyun was simply kept from destroying your village just because of your basket alone

The god almost wished he could put a face to the one who appeased him the best

And while he could hear your whispers and prayers float down the river, he’d much rather speak to you in person

To him, you didn’t have to dirty your knees and grovel to him

If you simply asked with a grateful smile and folded hands, he would create any weather pattern you would want

And that was when he realized that he was becoming too soft in regards to mortals

He went to his elders in lieu of this, and they were surprisingly kind to him - of course, he was seen as a younger brother to most gods and goddesses, but he knew they had strict boundaries most times

He was told by a goddess of greenery that he was in no wrong, that having this strong of a connection to a mortal could be a good thing. A healthy thing. If he felt lonesome and vengeful all the time he would snap and every offering would be for nothing - the people would become scared and rebel against them

He was also told that there was a way for gods to beckon a human to their space

Changkyun was absolutely nervous but he took the beckoning spell anyways, ready to finally meet someone who had the best spiritual connection to him

You heard it from the village’s oldest medic

She called you in for a ‘check up’ but really sat you down to tell you that you have been spiritually summoned to German

You thought that maybe she lost her mind to old age, but she gave you a necklace with big round beads and told you that it would allow you to pass into the god’s land

All you had to do was walk down the river with the next offering you produced on the next new moon

You nodded and were told it was best to keep it quiet until that day.

And of course you were buzzing with nerves the week before the new moon. You wondered if you should try to make your basket better, even if it’s just a little bit.

You definitely took more care into picking out your normal offerings and felt scared that someone knew if they asked you why you were picking only the shiniest of raspberries

And on the day of the new moon, you set out an hour earlier than usual

You’ve never followed any baskets down the river bank, and didn’t know how long the journey was. You took along a satchel with a canteen of water and dry food just in case

You wore your beads and headed down the river bank, each step growing in anticipation and anxiety

What would German look like? What would he think of you? Of your offerings?

You hitch a step when you see someone sitting on a chair in the water, the water only reaching the male’s knees

He already has his patient eyes on you, his head resting on his fist as the waterfall becomes nearly silent. It’s like a mist in the background, the water calmly ripples through the round bank he resides in

“Is that for me?” Even though he is in the middle of the bank, you hear him clearly

You’re startled at how smooth his voice is, especially when it is paired with a small smile and sparkling eyes

Is this German? He looks...So human. He has god like looks, but...he is still rather human

You nod, clutching the basket tight as you are suddenly self conscious of its contents

You suddenly feel so ashamed for not giving him a proper greeting and immediately bend at your waist, bowing deeply

He sits in the same position as you stand on the grass

“Won’t you bring me your offering, darling?”

Your fingers clutch the beads around your neck, and you wonder if you’ll drown under a scheme of his. But you decide to follow his words, meekly slipping off your sandals before stepping into the water

As you approach him, the water only rises to your knees, soaking the lower half of your dress. It heavily floats behind you as you raise the basket to hands

“Here you are, German. I beg of you that you can accept this pitiful offering in exchange of keeping our land decently watered and warm. It would be dreadful if we were to get a drought this year.”

You bite your lip as you watch him gently pluck through your basket.

“Don’t fret, dear, your offerings are the best out of dozens. Won’t you sit?”

You look around to see if he magically made another chair appear, but when you turn back to him he holds out his hand.

You take it and feel bashful as he sits you on his leg, an arm resting around your waist to steady you

“Thank you..My offerings aren’t much, but I’m glad you like them. I’m sorry if the new moon is a bad time..I just feel more connected with this night than any other.”

You feel German’s fingers squeeze your waist just a tad as he plucks a berry out of the basket, chewing it thoughtfully

“At first it was strange, but now it is a comfort. It’s special. You’re special.”

You shake your head, “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly be...I just try my best to appease you.”

As you settle into German’s lap he begins to talk lightly about what his purpose is here and how he thinks of everyone’s offerings. He tells you his real name is Changkyun, and that you can call him that instead

You guys talk about spiritual connects and what other gods and goddess lie around this area. The night seems quaint around the two of you and you feel like it’s a surreal dream

“Will you visit me on the next new moon?” He asks, his hand brushing yours

You nod, “Yes, if that’s what you would like.”

You aren’t looking at him, but you can feel him smile, “Yes, that would be nice. And no more offerings. Just bring food we can share. I’m glad I could put a face to the most heartfelt gifts I’ve received”

“Heartfelt, hm? Yes, I suppose that’s what I put into my gifts the most. My heart...It’s for you, Changkyun.”

Changkyun’s arms wrap around you in a hug before he gracefully lifts you up to stand in the water

“Wonderful. It’s the best gift I could ever hope to receive.”

__________________

@peachyjaehyunwritings

Tysm hon for talking with me and giving me inspiration I love your blog!! You are so nice you angel!!

<3

-S

#monsta x #monsta x au #monsta x changkyun #monsta x i.m #changkyun #i.m #changkyun au #fantasy au

[ourimpavidheroine]

OC Kiss Week 2018 - Day Four

Note: This follows directly after chapters 63 and 64 and three weeks before chapter 65.

Sayuri and Zu

It was one of Sayuri’s cousins - one of the President of Zaofu’s daughters, the youngest one, he believed, called Poppy? There were several of them, all named for flowers - who had casually walked past them and had said, under her breath, “I’ll distract them, you go,” and a few moments later had dropped a champagne flute on the floor, making a fuss as Prince Hou-Ting reassured her and called for a maid to come and clean it. Sayuri had grabbed his hand and yanked him behind a pillar, stifling a laugh, dashing through a door to the back garden that was held discreetly open by the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, of all people.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Button,” he said with a grin, and closed the door behind them.

She pulled him along behind her, stopping next to a stone bench under a plum tree to kick off her shoes, a stray curl sliding down her cheek as she laughed. “Come with me, I want to show you something,” she said, and drew him further in, taking him on a footbridge over a lovely pond and through an elegant pavilion, around a wealth of peonies and roses and red elm trees, the garden quiet in the moonlight but for the chirping of a few grasshopper crickets.

“How big is this?” he asked, marveling. He could smell jasmine mingled with cedar. “It must take up an entire block.”

“Yes, it’s pretty big for a city house. It belonged to my GrandLin’s mother, back in the day.” Another curl burst out, spiraling down the back of her neck. She had a long, tapering neck, graceful like her expressive hands. “It’s my favorite place in the world.” She stopped and pointed up. “You can see the spirit portal from here as well.”

“And the stars,” he said softly.

“Yes. That’s what I want to show you, come on.” Another tug and he followed her, laughing. “My father hated the palace in Ba Sing Se, for the most part, but he loved the gardens. When he first bought the house, oh, I don’t know, it’s been, what, thirty-five, thirty-six years now…” she stopped suddenly in the path and he collided with her. She didn’t seem to mind, just regained her footing and tucked her arm in his. “My gracious, I suppose it has been that long.” She shook her head and then pulled him along again. “Anyhow, he and the gardeners have been working on it all these years. Not that he does any of the actual work himself, my father is opposed to dirt.” Another laugh. “And then he got me, poor old dear. Ah! Here we are.” She gestured to a building set very close to the back wall of the garden itself.

“What’s this?” He watched, fascinated, as another curl slithered its way out.

“This, my sumptuficent Zu, is my workshop. It was my birthday present when I was ten years old.” She lifted up a rather squat ornamental frog squirrel set next to the door and plucked up a key. “Daddy put that there, I was always misplacing my key.” She unlocked the door and put the key back in place before bowing extravagantly. “Please come in.”

The room was awash with equipment of one kind or another; what he thought might be engines, tools hung up for the most part on the walls, bits of metal scattered across worktables, sketches of mechanical things - rendered precisely, unlike the chaos of the room itself - pinned to the walls, a stove and a quantity of glass jars and beakers, and, incongruously, a large pot of brightly colored sunflowers.

“Er...it’s...er…” he waved helplessly.

“Yes, I know. The maids aren’t allowed in here. They put things away where they don’t belong and then I spend hours finding things, using language that shocks my Papa and makes Daddy glare at GrandLin, who of course is never even remotely sorry.” She tilted her head, thinking. “My QiQi doesn’t mind so much, but that’s QiQi for you.”

“The maids aren’t allowed in my office either,” he said, picking up a long tube and staring at the gelatinous brown substance that had hardened inside. “For that very same reason.”

“Oh, don’t break that, Zu, it’s poisonous to inhale.” She shoved at an escaped curl and several more drooped down, a hairpin hitting the floor with a faint tinkle.

“Oh, quite,” he said, and put it down carefully. Her fists were on her hips as she surveyed the room.

“Well, it was clean when I got home but I was up all last night working on something.” Another pin dislodged. “Or was it the night before?” She shrugged. “Well anyhow. What I wanted to show you is up on the roof.”

“On the roof?”

“Yes, come on.” She gestured and ducked behind a black velvet curtain. “I set up a dark room back here, sometimes I take photographs.”

“Oh! There is a professor at the University who says he thinks it possible to make a camera that could photograph the stars. I’ve been working on the math for it.”

She flung the curtain back. “Really? It would just be a matter of magnification and curvature, yes?” At his nod she gestured again. “And a very large camera, of course. Lens, really, the camera itself shouldn’t be all that difficult to build once you had all of that worked out. I wonder...my Uncle Huan can bend sand into glass…” she trailed off for a moment before shaking her head, hairpins flying. “Anyhow! Hold that thought for later!” She grinned. “Up the stairs!”

He followed her up a circular metal staircase, a bit wobbly, watching as she unhooked a trap door, grunting a bit as she shoved it up. It led to a flat roof, disguised behind the usual friezes and ornamentation, complete with two folding camping chairs and a telescope. With a cry he immediately headed towards the telescope, running his fingers over it carefully. “Why, this is a Zhanjing telescope, Sayuri!” It was in beautiful condition, no less, clearly cared for. “What do you do with it when the weather is poor?”

“One of the gardeners is in charge of it, he brings it outside on nights when it’s clear, otherwise it stays inside, safe and sound.” Her smile lit up her face. “In return he can look through it as much as he likes. He’s very fond of the stars.” She came and stood next to him. “I thought you could show me some of the ones you were speaking of today.”

“Really?” He couldn’t stop himself from returning her smile. “Do you know, I think you’ve lost most of your hairpins.”

“Damn my hairpins,” she replied, and plunged her hands into the mass of her hair, shaking at it, laughing as it sprung free. “They stab my scalp and I loathe them.”

“You missed one,” he said, and reached for it, sliding it out carefully and putting it into his pocket. Her hair was surprisingly soft; he’d expected it to be coarse but it wasn’t, not at all.

“I think they procreate,” she said with a wry roll of her eyes, and he realized that without her shoes on they were very nearly of a height. “Oh, Zu, I want to kiss you.”

“Ditto, ditto, ditto, but wait just a moment,” he replied, and took his glasses off. “They get in the way.”

“Can you see without them?”

“Not a blessed thing,” he said, and shoved them into his pocket. “I just grope around helplessly without them.”

“Oh, grope away, then,” she laughed, taking his hand and putting it on her breast before moving closer to him. “Nothing I enjoy more than a good groping. Well, except dumplings. I do appreciate a good dumpling.”

“And who doesn’t? I might give up a good grope for another one of those fruit tarts.” He buried his face into that soft, springy hair. “Hmmm. Maybe not right this very second, though.”

“After all, we did have a very good dinner.” Her hands slid around his waist.

“We did. Although who knew that the former Earth King could glare like that?” He kissed along her jaw.

“Oh, I could have told you that.” And then her mouth was on his and he kissed for all he was worth, pressed against her, hands deep into that glorious hair. Their noses collided a bit but he was wholly unconcerned, as he assumed she was as well. “Oh Zu, I hope you aren’t expecting me to give up my maidenhead up here on the roof because for one thing, I expect it would be more than a little cold and for another my maidenhead deserted me some time ago.”

“Far too cold, and maidenheads are overrated, my own was lost to a rather vigorous girl who lived next door to my great-auntie.”

“Oh, was it a tragic story?” She laughed as she pushed a hand up into his tunic.

“Not in the slightest, although Auntie came hunting for me when I didn’t show up for breakfast and I had to run off with my trousers around my knees in order to escape her.” He kissed her some more. “That part was more than a little humiliating.” She was shaking with laughter in his arms, head thrown back, and he marveled at the sound of it; nothing like the polite tittering of the noble girls he’d grown up with but a riotous chortle, complete with several utterly entrancing snorts.

“I have just the one great-auntie here tonight but she’d likely cheer us on, Beifongs being who they are.” She brought her head back down to randomly punctuate her words with kisses.

“So long as you promise me I wouldn’t have to run through your garden with my trousers around my knees, I’m really not all that proficient at running even when they’re up.”

“Heavens no, no need to run through the garden when we could just hop over the wall into Madame Zong’s yard. She’d be scandalized but she’s far too old to run after us. Although her poodle monkey might chase us.”

“But think of the stories we could tell our future progeny!”

“Granny and Gramps met on a lovely autumn day, Granny listened to his brilliant lecture and took Gramps for tarts -”

“- and spitballed out his biggest detractor!”

“Oh, how could I forget that! And then Granny took him home to meet all of her family -”

“-a great deal of unexpected family!”

“-and then took him onto the roof to look at the stars but it was all a ruse, all she really wanted to do was kiss him and possibly get his trousers down around his ankles-

“-oh, lower than my knees, that’s ambitious-”

“-and then they had to outrun her family, over the fence, away from Cuddles-”

“-Madame Zong’s name is Cuddles?”

“-of course not, Zu, that’s the poodle monkey-”

“-that makes far more sense-”

“-and they ran away that very night and got married!”

They both took a breath. He stared at her - well, at the rather blurry smear that was her face - and even as nearsighted as he was he could tell she was smiling. “Should we?”

“Hmmm. I think my poor father might actually expire if we did. And I really do mean it, as far as I know his heart is fine but as he would tell me,” and here her voice changed, “Sayuri Hou-Ting! Princesses do not elope!”

“There’s also my mother. Worse, my great-grandmother.” He shuddered involuntarily. “They’d...you know, I’m not actually sure what they’d do. Something dire. My great-grandmother is...well. You’ll meet her. She was one of your father’s advisors, you know, back when he was abdicating.”

“I suppose we had best do it the traditional way, then.” Her arms were around him, holding him tightly.

“I’ll write to my parents tomorrow.” He couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t want to stop smiling.

“Excellent.” She pulled him even closer. “So now that we’ve worked that out do you want to do some more kissing? Trousers mandatory, at least on the roof.”

“Oh yes, I really do. I absolutely do.” And so he did.

#ockisses18 #my fanfiction #tlok #sayuri #zu

[rauliskafan]

The Doctor and His Doll: Date Night

Author’s Note: Frederick wants to know his Doll better. But their date night does not exactly go according to plan. Read on to see what happens next!!! Enjoy!!! And see below for the previous parts!!!

The Doctor and His Doll

The Doctor and His Doll: Story Hour

Tagging @vintagemichelle91, @yourtropegirl, @mrschiltoncat

To say that sipping that first coffee was awkward was an understatement. After ordering two cups of the russet liquid and not making a face when you asked for a corn muffin with extra butter, Frederick spent the better part of that time in the diner restating his apologies, explaining that he had his reasons for not believing the best in people…

…touching on the fact that the last time he even had anything in the way of “company” at his home led to…

At that he said nothing else; he simply gestured to the scar adorning his sad face. You shuddered despite the steam wafting from your cup and instinctively reached for his hand.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you assured him. “If it’s too much.”

“Not for me,” he said, letting his hand linger in yours while sighing heavily and brushing his thumb against your wrist. “I live with the pictures every day. But I think… no. I am certain that you do not need those images attached to any part of your life.”

Touched by his sweetness, you leaned closer and tightened your grip. A screaming voice in the back of your head longed to blurt out tell me every beautiful and bad thing about you. Let me know you inside and out. It’s not like I don’t have scars, too. And maybe I can help…

None of those words joined the sounds of silverware clanking against plates or the cash drawer opening and closing as one patron after another left the restaurant. And you were content to simply sit there, to see the stubble on his face and wonder how he might look with a beard, to smile when he met your eyes. Each time he bowed his head after a few moments of eye contact. But he also held your gaze longer with every glance, and when a waitress wearing a pink apron and sporting a bouncy blonde ponytail announced that it was closing time, you still held his hand when returning to the night.

“So…”

“So,” you echoed. He seemed to hold is cane more loosely. Was it the support from your fingers? Or just the nearness of you that kept him steady on his feet? Figuring on the former but longing for the latter, you tilted your head to one side, the scent of the black coffee he imbibed mingling with his breath in the air. What would he taste like? Did the exterior damage on his cheek extend to parts unseen, unknown? Frederick parted his lips and looked as if he was more than ready, certainly able, and unquestionably willing to kiss you when he suddenly drew back and emitted an awkward laugh.

“I suppose we should call it a night,” he began. “Is there somewhere I can drop you? I’ll call my driver. He can be here in five minutes. Maybe less.”

“Campus is really just a few blocks away,” you said, and you wished that you could take the words back, wanting to draw the evening out and stop the sun from rising to stay at his side.

“Campus…? Oh! Yes. You… you mentioned something about a dormitory.”

His used of the full term caused you to chuckle.

“Well if that didn’t give me away, I was pretty sure this would.”

You gestured towards your shoulder bag busting with used books and notebooks in worse shape. His scar seemed to melt in the moonlight, concealed by a cloud of rosy red coloring his cheeks.

“And that,” he admitted. “I recall my own days at university. I…”

His attempt at a story stopped before it started, and again he hung his head, leaning into his cane. Yet another moment from his past that he preferred not to discuss.

If you were being honest, you could relate to that feeling in spades.

“Look,” you started as you lightly touched his arm, dismayed when he flinched, but relieved when he failed to flee. “Let’s not do the memory lane thing. Too many potholes, you know?”

“I do,” he said as he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Plus, we have a party to get ready for,” you continued. “Even without the feathers, I can still scare us up the costumes, and…”

Your voice trailed off when his face went white. What had you said wrong? He was the one waiting in the street for you, full of apologies and offering to make like the gentleman he obviously was. What could change his mind in the span of---?

“That sounds fine,” he finally said, mercifully putting your mind at ease. “It… it is just…”

The sight of him tongue-tied caused your heart to flutter. Despite his stance, his old-fashioned way of thinking, and the cane working to support the idea that he was aged, he still looked like a child in the harsh light of the diner or the far gentler rays of the moon.

“What’s up, Doc?” you teased as you gave his ribs a tender nudge. “Not thinking of going without me, are you?”

“What?” he quickly shot back. “No! Not a chance. It’s just that… I mean to say that Halloween is nearly a week away and I… I should very much like to see you before then. If that is alright with you.”

Now you were the one blushing, leaning into him for support and afraid that you might swoon when he lightened his grip on his cane and took hold of your arms.

“You asking me on a date, Doc?” you queried.

“It would seem so,” he confirmed. “And if I am being honest, I am terrified that you are still going to take the chance to turn me down.”

At the sound of that, you didn’t stop to think. Pressing your body close to his, you let your arms loop around his neck. Were those his goosebumps forming under your fingers? Wiping them away with one wash of your fingers, you moved closer still and brought your lips to his damaged cheek. He cringed, perhaps he couldn’t help it, when you kissed him there. Strange how his skin felt as if it was held in place by plaster or something stronger. But you extended the kiss. His flesh turned hot; the hand with no need to cling to his cane just wrapped around your waist as he touched the small of your back. You stayed with him like that until what felt like dawn, breaking away to see that there was still only darkness. But the moon was brighter and the air felt charged with untold electricity as he looked to you with wide, expectant eyes… waiting for your answer.

“Tell me the time and place, Doc,” you whispered. “I’ll be there.”

For a second he seemed stunned by your words, but then he simply smiled and pulled out his phone.

“Then the thing to do is set it in stone, Doll…”

Thursday night. The plan was for Frederick to meet you in the quad. He suggested coming to your dormitory door, but you vetoed that idea. The last thing that you wanted was him getting lost in the hallways; it had taken you long enough to navigate the maze, and to fluster Frederick in any way seemed like a crime. Better to meet him out in the open at the appointed hour. But as bad luck would have it, you were running late from The Devil’s Den. As if it was rocket science for one jock in a jersey to select the costume of another football player before paying the fee. You still thought it amusing, hoped Frederick would share the sentiment as you dressed fast, applied just a touch of makeup, and braided your hair behind your head. Wishing that you could look like a million bucks when you were just dancing close to 1K and change, you still smiled in the mirror and looked at your phone. You hadn’t heard the text, but there it was, his words waiting for you.

I am en route. Hoping to see you soon.

How sad in that one word. Hoping. As if he feared that you would change your mind. Not a chance. Not when he had consumed your mind when you were meant to make sales and understand ancient philosophies. Something so disturbing about Plato’s love of the dictatorship; more distasteful his desire to dispose of those he deemed defective. How would Frederick fare in that Republic? Or you for that matter…?

Pushing the dark thoughts aside and determined to enjoy the date, you rushed for the back staircase and hoped that you’d have a chance to smooth the few wrinkles left in your skirt when you slammed into your roommate, Paulette…

…looking like hell having forgotten its proper place.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you lifted your hand to her brow and felt the heat emanating from her skin.

“I need to lie down,” she muttered, her eyes glazed over. Instinctively, you placed an arm around her shoulders. Could you text with one hand while helping her back up the steps? Opting to wait, hoping that Frederick would hang near the gazebo, you were jerked to the side as Paulette dived towards a toilet to vomit.

Suddenly a few wrinkles were the least of your problems.

“I’m sorry,” she moaned. “I’m so….”

“Forget it,” you said. “We better get you to bed.”

Guiding her back to your closed door, you fished through your purse for your set of keys and finally found them as you heard a familiar voice.

“Is everything alright?”

Stunned to see Frederick so close, his suit perfectly pressed and his face etched in worry, you started to protest when Paulette groaned.

And to your surprise, Frederick sprang into action.

“What is this?” he asked as you opened the door and basically dumped Paulette onto her unmade bed. “Food poisoning? The flu?”

“Death!” Paulette whined, choking back another stream of sick, and Frederick slowly sat at her side.

“Young lady,” he began. “I have seen more death in one day than you could imagine. And despite some of my colleagues’ assertions to the contrary, I am a medical professional.”

“Oh!” Paulette moaned again while struggling to sit up. “He’s your date. The adorable enigma. And here I’m spoiling---”

“You’re not,” you said, turning red and avoiding Frederick’s eyes as you set an empty trash can just a few inches below her head.

“Did you really say that?” Frederick asked. You met his question with silence, and to his credit he let the matter drop as he examined Paulette and sat up straighter to pronounce his findings.

“Flu by way of whisky,” Frederick said.

“What?” you asked.

“A little early for happy hour,” he continued. “But I suppose we are all only young once. If we turn the lights out and leave her with some water, I think she will recover come tomorrow.”

“So not dying,” you said, wishing that you could crawl into some makeshift grave because of her loose lips when Paulette heaved and missed the trash can.

“Jesus Christ!” you said, starting to ease Frederick away when he took hold of your wrists.

“This you can clean up,” he said. “I could tell you…”

Was he going to select this moment to tell his story? Not that you didn’t want to hear, but…

“I have to clean up,” you said. “Hope this won’t screw up whatever you have planned.”

But it did. The French restaurant that he mentioned as Paulette laid on your bed and you changed the sheets hardly sounded appetizing given the stench in the room. And when she finally knocked out, when you swapped your dress for jeans and a sweater and clearly saw the doctor’s tousled hair, you walked with him down the staircase meant to bring you both moments of happiness. But plans had…

“I’m sorry,” you started. “I… work was long. I didn’t get out quick enough. I’m guessing our reservation is a lost cause.”

“Sadly,” he admitted. “They do not hold these tables forever.”

Was that code for whatever existed between you? Maybe he should have left well enough alone and never asked you out for coffee. Or at the very least made plans for the masquerade and not tried to fill in the blanks. Real life… your day to day was a total turnoff, and you awkwardly ran your fingers through your hair.

“So… what happens now?” you weakly asked. “Do you… do you even still want to do the Halloween thing? Or is that a loss, too?”

“A loss?” he asked. “Why would you say that? Did I not do right by your friend?”

“Do… no! No, you were great,” you assured him. “But look at you!”

Smoothing his hair and taking a step back, he caught the light and smiled, almost looking serene.

“What do you see, doll?” he asked. “An adorable enigma?”

“She shouldn’t have said---”

“I… I actually thought that it was sort of sweet,” he confessed. “Far nicer than some of the names that I have been called at other points in my life.

Sighing, needing to touch him for what might be the last time, you held his hand and kissed his cheek once more.

“You’re a decent guy,” you said. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. But… but this… I mean didn’t you…?”

“My dear, you are not the one that tried to set a record for spilling sick in one small room.”

“Maybe not,” you quickly said. “But this… see I have more messes. Stories. And when it’s all said and done, you’ll want… you deserve better.”

Because who were you kidding? Even if you might have made it to the party, this was never going to amount to anything---

“But I want this.”

You gasped as he pulled you close and parted his lips. Breathing in the air pouring from his lungs, you let your tongue play around his. All traces of clumsiness slipped away as he intensified the contact and wrapped you his arms. Something was strange in his kiss. The faint taste of metal playing with the desire dripping off his tongue. You didn’t mind; you didn’t even think to ask any further questions when he pulled away and rubbed your arms, his cane looking like little more than an accessory in this moment.

Not because he was holding you. Because you were you?

“I… the cafeteria is still open. How do you feel about pizza?”

“As long as there is no pepperoni, I can handle it.”

“Like you can handle the fact that I really don’t belong in your world?” you challenged.

“But you do,” he said. “And I really just want to talk to you. We can save the French restaurant for after Halloween. For tonight, pizza is fine.”

And as you took his arm. You weren’t sure what stunned you more. The fact the he wanted to keep learning about your life in the wake of seeing how cramped and messy it could be? The fact the he was down with a slice of pizza? Interesting that he was a vegetarian…

…or the fact that he was already thinking past the party and of ways to see you again.

And of course, the feeling was more than mutual.

#raúl esparza #frederick chilton #chilton x reader #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #the doctor and his doll

[diaphdiaph]

The Wolves: Chapter I

Finally filled this after years of Wolf AU requests:

After a virus swept through the old world and brought about the shifters, a vicious race able to take wolf form. Humanity is in the hands of the final frontier, the pureblood hunters who are charged with scorging the land of shifters and reclaiming the earth.

Clarke, a pureblood hunter and only daughter of the chancellor, is stuck between her duty and the deeply-rooted belief that maybe the wolves aren't all that different from them at all.

But after a mission goes wrong and she finds herself hostage to the commander, the highest shifter amongst all packs, she'll find out just how similar the shifters and humans can be for all the right and wrong reasons.

She's ten and horrified, her feet slipping over wet shale, hands clinging to dead bits of bark, failing miserably in the small task of walking closely behind the grownups who were too busy patting each other on the back to see her lagging behind in the moonlight.

She tried not to look the small wolf in the eyes, it was still breathing, slung over her dad's shoulder and staring at her past its blood speckled snout. Occasionally it attempted a deeper breath and Clarke watched the wolf fail in its small efforts the whole walk back to camp, repulsed and ashamed, she turned her eyes away.

"Daddy," Clarke whispered quietly and tugged on her dad's pocket. "That one’s still alive..."

"She’s for you tomorrow morning." her dad told her proudly and took her hand in his. "It'll be scary at first. I was scared my first time but you're a Griffin and this," he clasped her shoulder with a smile and nodded to the barely alive wolf slung on his neck, "this is your birthright, Clarke. It's our job to protect our people, do you understand that?"

"Yeah," Clarke lied and buried the urge to retch at the blood smeared over her palm and fingers. "I understand."

"Good." he ruffled her hair proudly and marched on.

Clarke stayed awake that night, tossing and turning beneath her blankets, contemplating how an encampment with three fences guarding its proximity could still possibly need to cull the wolves for protection. She never dared to raise questions like that around the grownups, she was a Griffin and the wolf hunt ran in her family blood back to the first generations who survived the virus outbreak.

Still, she couldn't help but peek out of her window at the wolf caged in the rain. Clarke watched it lie there barely moving and felt a violent sickness consume her. She wanted to turn away and hide under the blankets but instead she forced herself to watch the once magnificent huntress lay sprawled in the mud like dying prey.

The wolf was already dead by the time she worked up enough courage to steal her dad's keys to free it from the cage. She gagged on her repulsion, stood there and vomited right between her feet because the magnificent terrifying beast was a little girl no more than her own age, curled up with open eyes that stilled into a vacant stare.

Against her better judgement, against the knowledge that she would catch hell in the morning if she was caught, she watched herself unlock the door to the iron rebar cage and drag the girl through the slick mud out into the open.

There were dark freckles around her cheeks and dried blood around the shoulder wound that finally felled her, if it wasn't for the distinct birthmarks that belonged to the shifters along her back and shoulders, she could have been a classmate or a friend.

Clarke delivered her home that night. Slung the girl over her shoulders like her father taught her and slipped through the fences with the his keys undetected. The body was heavy and the muddy grass made for slick footing but she covered the distance in an impressive time.

Delicately, tender and sorry and repulsed and ashamed, she laid the girl out and closed her eyes, whispering a tiny apology as she did.

That night never left Clarke. Twelve and forced to pose with her first kill for the family photo album, she remembered that dusting of dark freckles. Thirteen and celebrating with her friends as they brought home a wolf strung up by its hinds that Bellamy caught by fluke, she remembered the girl's vacant empty stare.

Sixteen and lauded as a future chancellor, dragging the strung up remains of three large wolves responsible for her father's death that she tracked and hunted single-handedly through the unchartered shifter lands, she remembered the long grief-stricken howls of the pack that discovered the girl she returned that night.

Now she was seventeen and unphased, or at least she pretended that much. It wasn't easy being Jake Griffin's daughter, she never felt like she measured up to much against him but everyone loved to tell her otherwise. She had his heart, that was everyone's favourite line. It was probably true she decided, she had his everything else, his eyes and blonde hair, the curve of his nose, the same lack of patience.

Today her lack of patience was focused on her friends who stood around making long work of loading the truck with the necessary gear. The walk was vicious and fast as she thought of something to say to wipe the stupid smirk off of Bellamy's face, feet pounding the ground, her hunt gear softly slapping her back, the people moved aside for her and she took a small victory in that.

"Clarke," the chancellor's voice stopped her from across the grass.

The chancellor came rushing out onto the porch and pointed to her feet. The feeling of Clarke's small victory was quickly stamped out as she sulked slowly towards her summoning.

"Yeah Mom?" she huffed.

"You nearly forgot this." her mom wrapped her father's watch into her hand and kissed her forehead. "You know what I'm about to say…"

"Be safe, don't die, and don't come home with less than four wolves."

"Five."

Clarke grinned, "Got it."

"Tonight's a big deal," her mom reminded her, "the chancellor of Mecha is bringing his sons with him tonight and Kane says the oldest is pretty cute." her mom nudged her hip with a slight smile.

"Kane said that?" Clarke leaned and whispered with a raised her brow.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes… kill wolves, bring them home, show off, marry well, give you pureblood grandchildren. I've got it, Mom." she rolled her eyes and snapped the watch onto her wrist.

"Our blood is our pride-"

"We're direct descendents from the first hunters and humanity's last stand. Again, I got the memo Mom."

"So long as you did." her mom cupped her cheek and ran a thumb over the small freckle there. "Love you kiddo." she chuckled and brought Clarke in for a hug.

Clarke resisted at first, felt her friends watch them both and desperately wanted to pull away. But her mom's hugs were the best and so she allowed herself a few more moments.

"Okay? Get out of here and don't come back with bullets left."

Clarke nodded and gave her goodbyes, she felt a strange feeling sit in her gut at how commonplace this all was. Everyday they patrolled the land, checked the traps and killed the shifters that were caught, ventured further into the southern border they were currently advancing, set up new traps, followed any trackings and then went home for dusk. Occasionally there would be a backlash, a pack would descend and good people were lost, but things were quieter since the battle that took her father.

For every good man the wolves killed that night they killed three of theirs in turn.

It was the way of the world, a world that she was born to and a world she would die in. It was that small fact that stopped her thinking too much about the morality of her work.

"Bellamy," Clarke chided as she reached the truck. "You girls too busy painting your nails to hunt today?" she glanced between his tempering smile and the rest of the guys.

"Nah we were just making sure our purses coordinated. Isn't that right Raven?" Bellamy called into the back of the rig and handed her another box of wolf traps.

"Mmhm," Raven agreed absentmindedly with her nose in a clipboard, counting the supplies. "Yellow is really your spring colour Bell."

"You see." Bellamy pointed and waved off the guys who stood around them.

It earned an eyeroll and a grin. Bellamy always had that way about him, nonchalant and cool-headed, he was pretty funny too. If it wasn't for his mixed-blood, Clarke knew her mom would probably throw her into his arms instead of every pureblood son of the fellow passing chancellors who came and went.

But he was the bastard of a farm girl, dashingly handsome and a quick shot, but a pureblood hunter like his sister he was not. If it wasn't for his Blake status, a son of the oldest hunt families in the region, Clarke knew her mom would dig the heels in over his promotion to the team. But Bellamy was his powerful father's beloved son, bastard or not, and so the chancellor held her tongue well.

"Where's Octavia?" Clarke looked around and loaded her gear into the back of the rig.

"Eh, probably breaking someone's heart." Bellamy shrugged over his sister's whereabouts and climbed into the truck. "You coming or not?"

"Wait, did you see Octavia come home last night?" Clarke paused and narrowed her eyes.

"She went to check the traps out near Rosa's Gorge, it's like a ten minute walk from here." Bellamy chuckled. "You think a big bad wolf got my sister?"

Clarke considered the thought and quickly shook it off. Octavia was the best of the best, and Rosa's Gorge was reclaimed as their territory years ago. "Where do you think she went?" she puzzled.

"Two beers says Lincoln's place." Raven appeared out of the passenger door with a knowing grin.

"Oh, she definitely got eaten by a big bad wolf then." Clarke smirked and Bellamy soured into the expression reserved for the moments before he killed something, earning a long chuckle from his friends who teased mercilessly.

Jasper jogged the distance from the main gate and made up their missing seat in the rig, "I call shotgun." he puffed by the time he reached the front wheel.

"Looks like you're up here with me." Bellamy patted the seat Clarke was now relegated to.

"Touch me and I'll cut your hands off." she sighed and climbed in.

The drive was short but not short enough, there's an itch that comes the closer Clarke gets to the outskirts of the safe zone and none of it can be cured until dusk falls and everyone is back in the rig safe and sound.

"Everyone split up and check the traps in your territory." Clarke commanded her group and slipped her gear over her shoulder. "I'll cover Octavia's too." she grumbled at the extra workload, stalking around the back of the rig to unload the traps.

Her people moved in between one another gearing up for the hunt. Jasper slipping on his goggles and tuning in the device that blinked when the wolves were near. Bellamy popping his neck and holstering knives along his long legs, one slipped into his black boot for good measure. Raven never bothered with the fuss of it, wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and chambered her gun, and that was that.

"Shit!" Bellamy bristled and pinched his brow. "We've gotta go back. I forgot my alarm."

"You forgot your alarm?" Raven repeated in disbelief. "How have you survived in this world for so long?" she groaned at his forgetfulness.

"Guys there's wolves close." Jasper interrupted and tuned the frequency of his device. "Like, real close."

Clarke rolled her eyes and snatched the emergency alarm from around her neck. It was just a small thing, discreet and always with her and thankfully still unused. To the human ear it emitted a call for help, to the wolves ears it emitted a long screaming hiss that rendered them unable to do anything but retreat.

"Here," she tossed it at Bellamy. "You and Jasper track the wolves, Raven and I will split up and replace the traps."

"Clarke…" he frowned and caught the alarm in one fist, "Are you sure that's a good-"

"Yes I'm sure it's a good idea. Unless you want to explain to the chancellor why she doesn't have a dozen wolves to string up and show off to Mecha tonight?" she challenged.

"I'm good." Bellamy nodded and swallowed, slipping the alarm around his neck. "Meet back in an hour?"

"One hour." Clarke confirmed with a nod and set to work.

She stalked into the woods like it was her home. In some ways it was. There was a time when all the lands belonged to her ancestors, the first humans. There was a time before the wolves when civilisation thrived before the virus swept and reclaimed the earth with it.

She often found herself thinking about that world when she ventured into wolf territory, there were reminders of it scattered about, old ruined buildings and school libraries that were untouched since the beginning of the new world. She often wanted to venture into those forgotten places but there were stories of traps, of hunters who came before who were caught by the wolves in the lost buildings.

Instead she buried the desire and curiosity somewhere deep where it couldn't interfere with her duties and did what was needed.

It took ten minutes to reach the first trap, the cage had fallen from the tree but there was no prize trapped inside, instead the bait, a slab of meat, had been dragged a few metres away and all that was left was gristle and bone scored with sharp teeth marks.

She hated it when the wolves mocked them.

It took less than twenty minutes to reset all of her traps and put a bullet inside the wild boar that caught itself in the electric netting by the stream. It wasn't a wolf but it would make a good meal for the party tonight, heavy as it was, she dragged it back to the rig for Bellamy to clean up when he returned.

Octavia's territory came next. There was no one around to suffer Clarke's huffs and eyerolls but it didn't stop her releasing them often like breaths of air as she trudged down to the mouth of the gorge, new traps slung over her arm and rifle in the other.

There was a sensation that crept up her spine as she traversed down the embankment to where the first traps sat untouched along the water edge. It felt as if she was being watched, as if eyes were burrowing into her from the jagged rocks above. It was enough for Clarke to drop the last four metres and cock her rifle to the trees, waiting for some kind of movement to confirm her suspicions.

"Bell?" she muttered into her radio for backup, "Raven?"

There was nothing but the hiss of white noise.

"Anyone?" she sighed again.

Nothing.

Clarke chewed on that fact and looked off to the beacon on the south bridge that rooted their communication lines. She stared for a good while, her gut churning the whole time, eventually she dared to get a better look through her scope.

The antenna at the top of the beacon was missing, replaced with sparks and dangling wires where it had been ripped from its home.

"Shit." Clarke grunted and hopelessly looked for a quick exit.

She knew Rosa's Gorge well, learned to set up a wolf trap here and an earth line for an electric net. She never cared much for her father's lessons but the summer days were different, she'd cling to his back with fishing rods jammed under her arm whilst he traversed down the jagged rocks and they'd spend the day pulling fish out of the water on gorge hooks, eating cheese sandwiches and sharing old cans of sugary soda.

There was only one exit out of Rosa's Gorge, a mile long walk south towards lower ground and then a short trek through the dense woods back towards the rig.

Clarke wiped the dirt off of her face and tied back her long blonde hair. Something wasn't right and she could sense it in the air quite literally, the birds that often flew across the verge from nestings either side of the thickets were absent from the sky, no doubt hiding from lurking dangers.

She made it fifty paces before she caught a glimpse of a broken emergency alarm. It was small and discreet like hers, or at least it used to be, now it was scattered in pieces as if it had been dragged along the jagged ground.

"Bellamy?" Clarke tried to radio again, frantic beneath the reserved.

It was no use and Clarke was slow to accept it, wasted valuable time standing still when every ounce of herself told her to run and not stop.

"Clarke?" a cracked voice called from the distance. "Clarke is that you?"

"Octavia?" Clarke yelled back.

She ran up the slope of ground towards the calls of her name. She knew better than to do that. Her father taught her better than to be so reckless and walk straight into certain danger but here she was, running head first towards it with her gun drawn and cocked.

"Octavia!" she gasped and set eyes on her friend.

She was curled up inside of a cage trap, bloody and bruised, careful not to touch the electrified bars that surrounded her huddled figure. Awful as it was, Clarke breathed a sigh of relief and told herself this was likely a stupid prank by the Mecha hunters. One they would return mercilessly in the dead of night, but a prank nonetheless.

Clarke threw down her bag, urgently burying herself inside of it in search of the right kit to reset the cage. "Don't worry… we'll get them back for this." she shook her head and forced an awkward chuckle. "You must have been freezing out here."

"No!" Octavia hissed and crawled forward on her knees, "Clarke, Clarke listen to me. You need to run before they come back… they probably already know you're here..." she turned and looked behind her shoulder quickly.

"Who's coming?" Clarke furrowed her brow.

"The wolves, Clarke, there was hundreds of them-"

"Octavia you're delirious." she interrupted her friend, unnerved all the same. "This place has been clean for dozens of years. I'm going to get you out of here and we're going straight to my mom."

"No… this whole time they've been waiting, watching, learning about us… please just, just fucking listen to me Clarke and run!" she begged.

There was a chill that filled the air and made it thick with cold nothingness. Octavia jerked and scuttled backwards, eyes wide, jaw hung open at whatever crept up behind Clarke's shoulder. The growls came next, a low vicious sound that vibrated in the throat, it reverberated all around them with deep yellow eyes that blinked and watched from the thickets. Clarke counted twenty in front of her alone.

"You said hundreds, right?" Clarke whispered and stared at her friend.

Octavia nodded.

"How many are behind me?"

There was a sharp painful thud to her head that interrupted Octavia's answer, it came from a large rock wielded by one of the shifters in their tan human form. Clarke blinked and let out a grunt, face pressed to the dirt as she acclimated to the violent pain in her skull.

"Thousands." the chief shifter assured and dug a knee into her spine.

There was a blade pressed to her neck, hard and deep enough to cut into the top layer of skin. Clarke arched over her shoulder and caught a fleeting glimpse of the thing above her, she was a woman, young and beautiful with the same hauntful dark eyes that Clarke saw in every bitter nightmare.

"I've dreamed of this since you were just a child." the husky voice explained and pulled Clarke's head taut with a fistful of hair. "You took my daughter and that blood debt will be repaid on this day." she scorned with violent relief to the approving howls of her pack.

"Anya!" a snarl emanated from the woods.

A black wolf, terrifying and sinewed with a thick scar across its snout leaped from the thickets and landed effortlessly in the crouched shape of a female warrior.

"The kill is mine Indra." Anya growled back and dug the tip of the blade painfully into Clarke's throat.

"The commander demands them alive."

There was a pause, a long moment where Clarke wondered if there would be a skirmish or a fight though there was neither. The knife was thrown and stuck in the floor and the creature above her bowed submissively.

Clarke breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes.

"By the time the commander is finished, you will wish Anya had cut your throat and ran the river with your blood." the dark wolf snarled at her relieved prone figure. "Ready the prisoners for travel." she ordered the others and shifted into wolf form, leaping on her hinds back into the thickets.

"I will have my blood." Anya hissed vengefully into her ear.

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#Clexa #Clexa AU #Werewolf AU #clexa fanfic #Clexa Prompt #Lexa #Commander Lexa #Clarke Griffin #Wolf AU #Clarke x Lexa #Lexa x Clarke #Femslash #Anya #The Flopdred #wlw stories

[angeryboy]

Kintsukuroi

Part 8- To Fall Together

The rest of the week seemed to be rough for the both of you. Your headache didn’t seem to ever go away, and Yuna was looking more and more pale every day, clearly falling apart under the stress. The light in her eyes didn’t seem to return either. 

She spent as much time sleeping as you did, waking up at all hours of the night and nearly sleeping through the day. What was this awful feeling you had? You weren’t sick. You didn’t have a fever, and you weren’t tossing your cookies. Your energy was just so low you couldn’t even make yourself take a shower.

You both seemed like ghosts, passing each other in the hallway without so much as a glance in the other’s direction. All the conversations just seemed like background noise, one amalgamation of sound. The only thing that ever played in your head was the change of tides that led to this moment.

Hawks, silent but ferocious, heavy eyes conveying an emotion you couldn’t understand. Yuna charging out of the forest, only everyone’s best interests at heart, hurt and angry. Dabi tearing her down in a instant before disappearing and leaving a mess. You, utterly confused and disheartened, angry and feeling guilty about something you could never tell anyone about. All the wondering what the hell Hawks could have possibly said to Yuna. The way she ran off into the night without a second thought, but still returned in the morning.

More often than not, your finger was hovering over the dial button, aching to call Tomura, but never going through with it. He had to have some experience comforting people right? He’d made you feel like more than enough more than once. But apparently his mission was so important that it could set the League up for years to come. Who were you to disturb him? If he even answered, you were sure he’d tell you not to call again.

“Maybe I’ll settle for a text,” you mused.

Hey, when you’re not busy, is it okay if I give you call?

You shuddered a bit, immediately embarrassed after reading it over. You sounded like a teenager talking to a tentative new friend, not a worker talking to their boss. To your surprise, he answered immediately.

Sure. Call me tonight at 11. Everything okay over there?

Your heart did a back flip, you were certain. It was the most adrenaline you’d felt in a week and a half. Now it was more like a teenager talking to their high school crush, the way you buried your face in your pillow with a smile.

Everything’s running smoothly here. I’m just having some..personal issues.

Why did every thing you could think to say sound so embarrassing? So common, and so awkward at the same time.

Personal issues? And you want to talk to me about it?

You bit your lip in frustration. What an idiot.

Well, yeah. We’ve had a couple talks in the past and they always made me feel better. Kinda hoping for the same thing again.

There wasn’t another reply for thirty minutes.

Well...I guess, then.

You sputtered a bit as you sprang out of bed. “Thirty minutes! For that!? He really is bad at this.” Regardless, for the first time, you couldn’t feel the weight that had been pressing on your chest for a week. And your head wasn’t hurting as bad either. You felt giddy. And good. You figured now was as good a time as any to try and talk to Yuna. You two couldn’t stay silent forever.

You figured Yuna was tired of not having anyone to talk to about this, and you were kind of missing her too. Before you could knock on the door, you heard her crying. It was barely noticeable, but unmistakable for anything else.

As soon as she heard the knock her sniffles stopped. You finally took a really good look at her face. Her eyes and cheeks were red and puffy(obviously), and though the bruises had mostly healed, they were still evident under her eyes, doing nothing to mask the dark circles accompanying them. She still had bandages on her ankle, and was definitely not pleased to see you.

“What?” For a moment you thought maybe this was the wrong decision, but this was Yuna. This was the girl who lied to Tomura for you even though she knew you weren’t honest. This was the girl who comforted you on the roof after you lied straight to her face. 

The worst she could do is try to kill me again. But it doesn’t look like she has any fight in her.

“Look, I- it’s been a really rough two weeks for both of us. All I hear is you crying before you leave to go look around for Dabi all night. I’m sorry I lied to you about Bakugo but-I was sure you’d throw me off the roof if I told you the truth. But I didn’t lie about Hawks. My only plan was to ask Dabi for advice. But you can thank Hawks for me even knowing about it. He’s the one that told me to bring Dabi-”

She held up a hand, intent on stopping you from continuing to ramble.

“Okay. Do I really seem like the kind of person who’d throw you off a roof for having a moment of weakness?”

Your heart nearly flat-lined at the ridiculous question. “Yuna, you tried to kill me.”

“Yeah. I did. And I’m sorry about that, but having a moment of weakness and deliberately deciding to meet with sneaky-ass heroes with my man while you both hide it from me are two totally different things.”

“That’s fair. I said some, uh, things I didn’t mean.” You rubbed the back of your head.

“Me too. I don’t think you’re weak. It takes a lot of guts to directly disobey an order from our favorite crusty boy. And it wasn’t..really your fault Dabi left. It was mine.” She choked up a little at the end, but you couldn’t help the soft smile forming on your face. So you were right about her. She was just angry that it was her fault, and probably feeling pretty bad that she tried to literally murder you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She seemed to relax after that. “If you can forgive me for nearly crushing your windpipe, I can forgive you for lying about some shit I don’t even care about.”

“Oh, I do kind of have a question, though.” 

“Oh, yeah what’s up?”

“Wh-what did Hawks say to you?” Her eyebrow shot up, an accusing look wracking her face.

“When?” It looked like the answer you got would depend on the one you gave her.

“When he pulled you off of me. I just- I mean you tried to kill him and then you let him hold you. I wondered what the hell he could possibly be saying to make you stay calm like that. It’s not like he knows you,” you waved your hand, clearly being sarcastic, but her eyes went wide just long enough for you to catch it. 

She nodded her head before continuing, a sly smile on her face. “I almost forgot about that. And honestly, it was all nonsense to me. Some shit about the Academy. Don’t know what he was talking about. I was just so upset that I didn’t care who he was. I was just chilling up there. Then, as I’m sure you saw, I snapped out of it.”

   She seemed pretty sincere about it. The only thing you figured was that whatever he said wasn’t nonsense to her at all.

“Do you want me to help you find Dabi?” You offered.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll come back soon. But it would make me feel better.”

“Good. You look like you could use the help. And a nap, probably.”

“Let’s calm down there. Still not exactly happy.” She propped the door open, walking back to her bed.

“Pack a bag. We’re gonna be out for a while.” --------- “Okay. Don’t get into anything stupid. And try not to insult anybody. We find Dabi, and then we come home.”

“Got it.” You brushed off the underhanded comment, choosing not to sass back. The cool night was helping to ease your seemingly constant nausea. You’d gotten used to it by now, but the night always helped. 

“So, what is it about him, if you don’t mind me asking?” You were hoping to just return to normal conversation with her. She stayed silent for a long time before she spoke.

“You don’t get it, huh?” She asked, shooting a glance your in your direction.

“I-it’s not that I don’t get it!” You face was turning bright red, but Yuna just smirked.

“There’s not a lot I can tell you. Let’s just say I knew him in a past life. When he was gentle and kind and not broken yet. I swore I would protect him. And I lost that Dabi forever. At his core, he’s hiding...a lot. and it takes its toll, living the life he does. He’s still the same boy I lost. It just-it’s way deep down and difficult to draw out.”

You didn’t respond. 

Knew him in a past life? The boy she lost? What the hell is she talking about?

It didn’t sit well. Your nerves were raging again, even though Yuna seemed as calm as a lake.

“He isn’t easy to love now, but he usually makes the effort and that means the world to me. That I’ve meant enough to him this whole time to try.”

This whole..time? What the fuck? How have I never asked her this before?

There was a falter in your step, and you slowed down a bit. “Wh- a past...life?” You questioned.

“Yeah. I can’t say anything. He made me promise that as long as he was alive I wouldn’t breathe a word.”

She apparently didn’t notice the change in your demeanor. Your nausea was tenfold.

Shake it off. Shake it off! Don’t do this now!

“Just- if you never know anything else about him, know this:he’s hurt. Bad. Just keep that in mind. And also understand that as much as I’m trying to fix the parts of him that just need love, there are miracles I can’t work. He’s the most important person in my life for a reason.”

“..o--oh. I’ll keep it in mind then.” She gave you bit of side eye, but whatever she was thinking never came to light. You two walked for several more hours until you were ready to give up.

Your feet were aching and you could barely keep your eyes open. “Yuna, we may have to call it quits,” you whined. Before she responded, you saw a mess of black hair glinting in the moonlight, and heard heavy boots crunching on the ground. “Actually, I’m gonna check this last alley.” She waved you off and you darted down the rocky path.

“Dabi!” You half-whispered. He stopped for a moment, shoulders tensing. “What the shit, dude? Where have you been?” He stared distantly before answering.

“I’ve been around.”

“You know that answer’s not good enough! Yuna’s practically dead inside and that’s all you can say?” He laughed humorlessly.

“Yeah. To you.”

“I’m not sure what it is I did to make you so intent on shutting me out, but I’m not fucking having this! What happened two weeks ago? What was your fucking plan?” You had him by the collar of his jacket, his half-lidded eyes filling you with a sense of dread as he stared down at you.

“Y’know, you’re smart to keep an eye on me, but I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’. And don’t go getting all excited. I’m not telling Yuna either. It’s bold of you to assume you’re the only one who gets shut out.”

“Goddammit Dabi. What the hell happened? Yuna almost killed me and Hawks! Is that what you want? Is that what you’re going for?” He rolled his eyes before pulling your hands away from him.

“She was angry. So was I. So were you. And so was Hawks. I should be asking you what you said to him. But it doesn’t matter. The least of my worries is what made you cry.” His tone was so flat you weren’t sure if he knew he was talking to a human being.

“Why did you even come then?” You found your voice trembling with anger. 

“To be on lookout. I don’t know what birdboy is up to, but he’s not an idiot. And he wanted to meet with you, and that’s a fucking red flag.”

“I’m not buying it. You’re talking with him too, so what’s the fucking difference? Nobody knows why you’re doing it either!” You growled, hands balling into fists.

“The difference is that everyone trusts me, and I’ve made it very clear I have no interest in helping or hurting the League. Whatever happens happens. The only thing you’ve made clear is that you’re a fucking liar who can’t handle her shit.” 

You’d never seen red so fast, hand immediately swinging for his jaw. In an instant, a strong wind forced your hand back, knocking you several feet away from Dabi.

“So, you’ll just punch anyone, then? Hands off. It’s time for you to fucking leave.” Yuna pushed you out of the alley, standing there until you were out of eyesight, essentially forcing you out of earshot.

Shit. Shit! What the hell is he gonna tell her?

You walked back to the hideout. You wouldn’t win this one tonight.