#for what it’s worth i always aim to please

[frogsare-friends]

people when someone listens to alternative music but doesn't dress alternative: 🙀🙀🤮🤮🙄🙄😔😔🫣🫣😬😬😱😱

#idk why but it makes me so mad #i'll say i listen to alt music and then someone's like “name 10 my chemical romance songs” #like... #girly i hate to break it to you but i can name 10 my chem songs in my SLEEP #give me a challenge #give me something to prove my worth #ask me abt the used #or sleeping with sirens #or the academy is... #or cute is what we aim for #or chase petra #or cobra starship #pierce the veil #falling in reverse #and ik i'm naming popular alt artists and bands but just give me SOMETHING #PLEASE #and it's never actual alt people either #it's always the people that think they're emo (they aren't) just bc they like jake webber (who isn't emo) and learned the chorus to #new perspective bc he used a panic! song in one video #but then hear that one live version of build god and cover their ears #like what #ask me about the brobecks if you must

[pandoraslxna]

Too close to the sun

adult Ao’nung x female metkayina reader x adult Neteyam

Words: 10.6k

Summary: Ao’nung loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.

Warnings: explicit smut, mmf threesome, ooc Neteyam, biting, p in v, oral, toxic behavior, jealousy, possessive behavior, best friends with benefits, fake dating, angst, one sided love, double penetration, anal

Adult Neteyam / Ao‘nung art by the amazing @cinetrix 🩵

Notes: I was aiming for porn and it got emotional my bad

Translation:

Tsawke = sun

Sevin = pretty

Paskalin = honey

"Everyone knows the story of Icarus, who Daedalus warned not to fly too near to the sea, nor too close to the sun.

Have caution, they are saying, because when they tell you this story they are Daedalus.

Have caution, I am saying, because when I tell you this story, you are Ikarus and I am the sun."

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao’nung wasn’t always in love with you. And there’s nothing he wishes more, than for the time to come back where he wasn’t. That time, before that dumb arrangement.

It was a double edged sword.

It wasn't so much a friends with benefits arrangement as it was a assured destruction. Because Ao’nung hadn’t known what he was agreeing to.

“Nungy, would you do me a favour?”


You see, spending every possible second with you has taught Ao’nung to be cautious, to pick up on those minuscule changes in your voice, in your eyes. And the way you called him by this silly little nickname made goosebumps break out over his skin, because whenever you blinked up at him with those big doe eyes and that innocent little smile and then called him nungy, he knew that there was something that you wanted and he also knew that there was no way he could ever deny you.


“I’ll do you one too,” you promised, tilting your head, a mischievous smile tugging on the corner of your lips. Oh, you little…


“…alright. What do you want now, hm?”


Looking back, Ao’nung realizes that this was his first mistake. His next mistake was not getting up and running when you grinned at him like he was some prey that just walked into your trap. His biggest mistake, however, was not saying no when you proposed this strange arrangement.

"Please pretend that you… that you want me. That there’s something between us. Just for a while nungy, please. Maybe that would make him jealous, would make him realize that he wants me too."


Or maybe he made the first mistake long before that. Maybe his biggest mistake was to befriend that little girl he made fun of, twenty years ago. Or maybe it was making fun of you in the first place. Maybe he should’ve never picked on you, should’ve never made you cry, maybe he should’ve never went to you and apologize, because he has never apologized to anyone else ever before. Maybe he shouldn’t have blushed like an idiot when you accepted his apology, swung your little arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, told him it was okay. Maybe, just maybe, he should’ve never made the girl cry that then accepted his apology so unconditionally that Ao’nung swore he would never let anything bad happen to you ever again, because you were the first person to accept him as he is, that could see through his façade and saw something good. Something worth to be loved.

He hadn’t known that he was agreeing to losing himself and becoming inseparable from you. Or maybe he had, he’d already known he needed you like his lungs needed air to breathe when it was just friendship between the two of you. He just hadn’t counted on how much his own helplessness to the whole situation would drive him crazy. How it would only be a matter of time before you sunk beneath his bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce that he would question if he had ever truly been in love before you came along.

But your love was directed to someone else.

Every single nerve-ending burned with the desire to haul a fist over and slam it into his face. It was on the verge of painful just to hold his muscles tightly still whenever he was around. If he did anything to this piece of shit, Ao’nung knew he would be the one to get punished for it.

Neteyam. He’s the one his tsawke was so head over heels for. The omatikaya prince that grew roots on his island a couple of years ago when his family sought otulu within his clan.

Ao’nung knew you had your eyes on him ever since you took part in training him for his second iknimaya with the metkayina. But he didn’t deserve your kindness. Neteyam didn’t deserve any of the things you did for him, the things you still do. Not with the way he had that filthy grin on his face when his eyes roamed your body. Not with the way he acted all innocent and kind in front of others, but his true nature made Ao’nung scrunch his nose in disgust.

Neteyam just wasn’t a good guy. Sure, he had this special talent in making others believe that he was, but he certainly wasn’t.

You’ve spent years trying to get his attention with courting gifts, fleeting touches and seductive words. But while Neteyam seemingly tried to leave his filthy fingertips on every women in the village, he barely paid you any mind. Just enough though, once in a while, to keep you wanting him, keep you on edge. Like this was all just a fun little game to him.

But what shocked Ao’nung most was, that you knew. You knew that he was a flirt, knew that he slept around, knew that he was playing with you, kept your hopes up for years on end but never returned any of these feelings or kind gestures to you and yet you still couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. It made his blood boil, because how could a smart little thing like you be so blind, so dumb to fall for him, of all people?

Truth be told, Ao’nung wasn’t even sure if part of the reason he agreed to any of this was that he was hoping it would work. Ao’nung was hoping this would get Neteyam jealous, he was hoping this would hurt him as much as it hurt you to find him flirting with another woman yet again, to find him wearing the bracelet you made while his hand was buried between another woman’s thighs. Yes, Ao’nung hoped it would hurt him. Even if he was hurting himself on the way.

But by eywa, could hurting himself feel any better?

The first time he gave in to you was intense. It left you with a noticeable, unplaceable stiffness in your walk the next morning, but aching to have him again. Ao’nung found himself unable to lean his weight fully against anything for three days, his muscles sore, feeling thicker than usual. There were gouges from your nails in his back, bruises from his hands on your body, marks from his teeth everywhere they could possibly cover. Marks that were normally meant for no one to see, yet you displayed them like they were art, meant to be noticed, to be seen.

"Louder, tsawke. Let him hear you."

He doesn’t know what drives him more insane. The feeling of your walls clamping down around his cock, squeezing him so painfully tight it felt like he might come undone at any second. Or the knowledge that you were doing this only now that he had mentioned him. Not that it actually mattered.

A wet rhythmic smack of flesh against flesh filled the air in your marui. Ao’nungs hands were at your hips in a tight grasp, your cheek shoved against the ground, ass high in the air as he pounded into you.

"Let him hear how good I’m making you feel", he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Moan my name."

Selfish, yes.

But you just sound so sweet when you gasp his name like that, with that whiny tone in your voice that’s halfway muffled into the sheets, little punched out moans garnishing the whole thing before his cock started throbbing inside you.

He made sure Neteyam heard every little noise you made, every moan, every whimper and every filthy squelch of his cock drilling into your wet heat. Ao’nung made sure he heard all of it. You were his, he let himself believe. Even if it was just for now, just for this.

"Ao’nung!" The name rolled off your tongue as a whimper, a gasp, followed by a choked-off moan as he gripped your hips and pressed himself closer against you, buried his face into the crook of your neck and lapped at the bite marks that he only recently put there.

Anyone could claim their mate with a courting gift, he thought proudly, sucking yet another hickey into your throat as he simultaneously trusted into you. But these bites and hickeys, they were an art that required precise observation from their presenter and the complete trust from their acceptor.

These weren’t cold, lifeless symbols of affection, no. You couldn’t just take them off. But they had short lifespans, often only a few days, a week if he was lucky. And this gave him the opportunity to continue to give you new ones over and over, of different sizes, shapes and colors; and if he didn't feel like putting them on your throat, then he could put them on your breasts, your hips, on your wrists, your shoulders or your thighs.

Your entire body was an available canvas for these markings and he took great advantage of this.

Ao’nung liked having the ability to move them and create new ones as the old faded and disappeared. He liked having the opportunity to accept and receive his own markings when your old ones had once again retreated from sight.

They were profoundly intimate, a powerful symbol that was physically felt each and every time it was given to an extent that any other courting gift never would be.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Yesterday night’s memories were still pretty much livid in front of his minds eye as Ao’nung not so subtle failed to listen to his so called friends about whatever they were talking about.

Nothing they weren’t used to. It’s not like he had ever actively participated in a conversation that wasn’t about him, anyways. And it’s not like he cares much about what that says about him. Ao’nung knows these guys aren’t really his friends. At least not like you are. They’re more like his goons, brainless little minions that have been following him around and would listen to every one of his orders since the day they found out he will be the next olo’eyktan. He’s almost certain that they wouldn’t stick to him if it weren’t for this fact.

Gentle waves rock him back and forth on his tsurak, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the vast ocean, his spear-gun strapped to his back as they wait for the rest of the hunting party to join them.

Ao’nung doesn’t need a mirror to know that he must’ve looked like he was ready to commit a crime when some of the younger hunters were accompanied by the Sully brothers, and he wonders which of these skxawngs had invited them so he knew which of them to exile from any hunts for the next month or so.

Neteyam greets the others first as he approches, polite as ever, but there’s a knowing, dirty little grin reserved just for him as he turns in his direction to reach a hand out for him to shake, like they’re friends. Ao’nung fights the urge to scoff and roll his eyes at that.

Reaching their chosen spot, he then signals the other hunters to prepare their fishing spears and nets. Each of them take their position, their eyes keenly scanning the water's surface for any sign of movement, while some others submerge into the deeper water.

However, Ao’nungs own eyes are unfocused. He has a hard time concentrating on anything other than that insufferable forest boy swimming only mere inches away from him. Like letting his five fingered freak of a brother participate wasn’t already enough of an insult to his warriors pride. No, now there were two of these demon spawns here with him. He knew Neteyam wasn’t even doing anything particular annoying, yet it felt like he was taunting him with every breath he took.

It was as if he could sense his thoughts, because a shadow suddenly casts over the spot Ao’nung had aimed his spear to, making it impossible for him to see through the waters surface. Looking up, Ao‘nung is then met with a pair of golden eyes and sharp teeth grinning back at him.

Any complain about Neteyam blocking out the sun so the man would hopefully move and bother someone else dies on his tongue, the moment his gaze lands on the shiny pearl that’s dangling over his shoulder, tidily braided into a strand of ink-black hair.

Ao’nung would probably recognize this white pearl everywhere. He was with you the day you had found the shell, had watched you crave and polish it for hours. He had wordlessly sat besides you, pondering if you even realized that a similar pearl garnished his songcord as a reminder of the day he had met you. That he had once sat where you sat, spent hours working in concentration to crave the pearl from such a filigree shell that his hands were hurting for days, hoping you would return the gesture to him one day.

"Neat, huh?" The omatikaya smiles, but it’s not a genuine one, before he brushes through his braids and twirls the pearl between his fingertips. It makes Ao’nung snap out of his thoughts, and he’s quick to advert his gaze to the sun, secretly hoping it will burn his eyes so he would never have to look at it on him again.

He just hums, barely a coherent response. While he wants to agree, simply for the fact that you had made it, he would also rather die than compliment the demons son. And he knows Neteyam just want to force a reaction out of him, so he chose to end the conversation right here and wordlessly swims a little further, where he then aims his spear to the waters surface, targeting a fish with precision and—

"Almost as pretty as the little thing that made it for me." Neteyam squints his eyes at him as he chuckles, and this time his amusement is sincere. Aimed to hit a nerve.

With a swift motion, Ao'nung hurles his spear into the water, but it completely misses the shimmery fish that had caught his eyes.

He turns to glare at the man that’s practically begging to be the next target. His Tsurak growls, making the water around him vibrate as it feels the anger radiating off his rider through the bond.

"I didn’t mean to insult you", Neteyam laughs and shakes his head, holding his hands up in surrender. "You two are awfully close, no?"

With a sigh, he regains his composure, takes a deep breath and, afraid that whatever might come out of his mouth would only start something that wouldn’t do him good, simply choose to nod instead, his eyebrows still drawn together tightly. Neteyams grin still hasn’t vanished, yet he seems to mimic the way Ao’nungs spine had straightened, which in return made him feel like he was under interrogation.

"How come I still haven’t seen any courting gifts on her then? Whatever it is called that you have with her, is that some kind of arrangement or…?"

"Nothing that should concern you, forest boy", he cuts him off.

"Hmh, right." Neteyam nods and Ao’nung can’t help but pray to eywa that this would finally be the end of this uncomfortable conversation. Unfortunately, it is not, as the forest boy then swims a little closer, his voice low as he says, "Well, by the sound of the moans you knock out of her", a look comes over Neteyams face, and it sickens him to realize it was arousal. "I may have to try my hand at her sometime too, just to see what all the fuss is about. Seems like she loves to spread her thighs for just anyone."

Ao’nung balled his fists, and ground his teeth together so hard, he was almost certain he could hear a crack. It took every last ounce of energy not to lunge at him.

Neteyams words whispered over and over and over in his head, a rolling loop that he thought might actually drive him insane.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Never had left him a hunting trip so tense before, Ao’nung realized, sighing as he lowered himself into the water. It was warm and relaxing, soothing his tense muscles and the ache he felt.

He seemed to get like this a lot lately, feeling stressed and tense and trying harder than ever to will himself to sleep, to concentrate and to stop thinking about this. But it was impossible. Ao’nung found his mind going back to the same problem over and over again and he found worry and jealousy rising in the pit of his gut more and more.

It had been some time since his last visit to the hot springs in the center of the island, and at least the waters were soothing on his overworked body. Not to mention the way your hands were gently running over his shoulders, as you positioned yourself to straddle his lap.

The hot spring was large, a natural pool that sat surrounded by smooth stones, leaving the air here steamy and considerably warmer than the rest of the forest. A popular spot to bath for the metkayina, but tonight it was calm and empty.

Long, ropy vines hung low and mingled with purple leafy plants above him. Bountiful beds of marigold, azure, blazing red, and creamy orange blossoms lined the space that the pool inhabited. Small particles of pollen danced in the steam that rose to the sky. Blue-green moss coated the rocks where their surface was wet and slick from the humidity.

You had both stripped out of your clothes, long past being uncomfortable with each other's nudity. Your warm, soft breasts now pressed against his chest, thighs framing his waist and his body finally relaxes as he deeply inhales the swirling aromas of both, the hot spring, filled with oils and herbs, and also your sweet natural scent.

Ao’nung rests his back against a rock that had been weathered smooth, his hands gliding over the soft skin of your back, up and down, as you continue to knead the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck. Through the upper canopy of the trees he could see night draw in and a soft rumble filled his chest as he pulled you closer.

"Still not going to talk to me about what happened today?"

Your playful voice is what makes him pry his eyes open and unfortunately return his mind to the moment and todays memories.

"Nothing happened today, tsawke. I already told you", he grumbles.

"You know I can tell when you’re lying", you push and Ao‘nung wants to roll his eyes, but he misses the strength to do so. Instead, he just buries his face into the crock of neck and makes a sound of annoyance. "And you’re never like this after a hunt. Normally, I can’t even get you to shut up about how you made the biggest catch and how you’re oh so much better than everyone else, how they’re all just a bunch of skxawngs and– ", you begin to mock him, but can’t finish the sentence as a teasing little giggle bursts out of you.

"That does not sound like me at all", he protests, yet can’t hide the lazy grin forming on his lips.

It’s moments like these that Ao’nung values most about your friendship. It feels so intimate and natural, the way you so playfully interact with him. How close you are, physically and mentally. You take care of each other, even if the ways in which you do, go beyond any normal friendship. It just feels so good to be in your presence, it makes him forget about the world around him for a while. Makes him forget why he was even so tense, what exactly had plagued his mind in the first place. There was just you now.

Ao’nung doesn’t even try to wipe the woozy smile from his face as he listens to your soft giggles and the joy it brings you to tease him, to know that you’re the only one allowed to do this and continue unharmed. Oh, how you loved to take advantage of the soft spot he had for you.

Your chest was still pressed firmly against his own, droplets of water running down your collarbone and collecting in a small puddle where your breasts are squished together. You wear your hair up in a bun, a few messy strands sticking to the sweaty skin of neck and forehead and Ao’nung thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes upon.

Between soft laughs as you mimic his cocky way of presenting himself, he catches you off guard as he suddenly presses his lips against yours.

He knows there’s no reason to do this. You’re all alone out here, so there’s no point in trying to make someone jealous that wasn’t even there to witness it. But from time to time, both of you had sought the other out just to get some sort of relief, so this wasn’t really something new to either of you. This agreement had long become more than a means to make Neteyam jealous. Besides, if he had to pick something he would get out of this agreement, it was this. After all, you promised him a favor if he would agree.

Your lips are soft and your tongue tastes warm and sweet as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and cradling the back of your head to get better access. It doesn’t even take a heartbeat for you to relax into the kiss, exhaling a soft sigh as your arms encircle his neck and pull him closer.

The gentle sway of the water fuses you tighter together, and soon you’re rubbing and grinding against each others wet bodies. His hands are everywhere on you, pushing and pulling and kneading every inch of skin until your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting against his lips.

"Please", you whisper softly, and he feels your thighs squeeze around his middle. Your hands roam over the muscles of his chest, then down over his abs, between your bodies, until they reach the base of his cock. "Please, can you…"

"Can I what?", Ao’nung breathes against your lips. He plants open mouthed kisses from the corner of your lips to your jaw, down to your throat. "Talk to me, tsawke. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me", you say, and it’s so whiny it almost sounds like a complain. Meanwhile your hands begin to stroke and squeeze up and down the length of his cock. It makes him chuckle as he licks a wet stripe from your collarbone down to your breast, "But I am touching you."

You make a frustrated sort of noise and Ao’nung smiles, softly, fondly, and then he carefully closes his teeth around a nipple and tugs.

"Fu– Fuck, c-come…on", you pant, "You know what I mean! Just— please!"

His tongue traces from your breast back up to your throat, where he buries his face into your skin to inhale more of that natural sweet scent you release. Ao’nung let’s out a deep groan once you stroke him a little faster and it almost makes him forget what he was supposed to do with his own hands.

"Please, Ao’nung", you whine again, but what snaps him out of his aroused trance isn’t your pleading voice. It’s the sound of someone else approaching the hot spring with a low chuckle.

"It’s not nice to make a woman beg like this."

You inhale a sharp gasp, pressing yourself tighter against Ao’nungs chest in an attempt to shield your naked front from any unwanted viewers. His tattooed arms hold you close, encircled around your back and covering your skin as much as possible. With his eyebrows knit together, he glances over the top of your head to see who was stupid enough to interrupt his alone time with you.

"Oh, please don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show."

Neteyam. Oh isn’t this just great, Ao’nung thinks to himself, grinding his teeth as he watches toruk maktos eldest step into his direct view.

There’s a sharp grin plastered on his entirely too perfect face. And this man dares to call himself a warrior? There’s not a hint of a scar on his skin, not one tattoo adorning his body that could tell of his victories, his hunts. He might as well be a nobody.

"What are you doing here?" The grip Ao’nung has on you is possessively tight and for a moments he thinks he’s the reason for your breath has stopped.

"Well, what do you think?", Neteyam chuckles and the golden color of his eyes seems to glint in the moonlight as they rake over your exposed back. "I came here to bath, just didn’t know this spot was already… occupied."

It’s a reasonable response. But not even close to a good enough reason for him to stay.

"You can leave then."

Neteyam did not seem to share the same thought.

"Hm, I don’t think I will. Besides, that gives us the chance to continue our nice conversation from earlier, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs growl rumbles from deep within his chest as he watches him step closer to the hot spring. Briefly, he remembers that he had very clearly warned the brat to stay away from you this morning, even if it was through gritted teeth and words that were generally much nicer than the ones he would’ve preferred to use.

Neteyams hands were already working to untie the knot that held his loincloth together, before he paused for a moment. A quick glance to your face and Ao’nung was met with the sight of your widened eyes, lips slightly parted as you were obviously trying and failing to proceed what was even happening. Neteyam then pauses.

"Unless you…", with a tilt of his head his eyes meet yours, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his lips, "want me to leave?"

Taken aback, your breath hitches in your throat. There’s a look of uncertainty on your face, as if you were struggling to express what you wanted. If you even knew what you wanted, Ao’nung thought. Your eyes then skipped between both men for a moment, a blush spreading over your cheeks so deep, they were almost turning purple now.

Ao’nung feels his chest tighten as you glanced from Neteyam to him, and then back to Neteyam. For a moment he’s scared you would tell him to leave, now that what must’ve been a dream to you finally seemed to come true. But you don’t. You just say nothing.

"That’s what I thought. You don’t mind if I do, right?" A soft rumble filled the man’s chest, almost a purr, as he untied his loincloth and then stepped into the water.

Your breathing had picked up rapidly, Ao’nung realized, feeling the way your chest pushed against his own as you inhaled quick, shallow pants of air. There’s a moment of very uncomfortable silence, made worse only by the tension that filled the air as Neteyam let out a content sigh after making himself comfortable, sitting with his back against a rock, arms sprawled out over the edge of the hot spring like he owned the place.

His abs tense just above the waters surface as he stifles a laugh, and he brushes a loose braid behind his ear while his eyes seem to be glued to yours.

"By the look on her face I assume you haven’t told her about our conversation from this morning?" He asks, his gaze moving for just a split second to look at him. You seem to follow his example and crane your neck up to look at him questioningly, your brows raised high.

Ao’nung can't think about what he's supposed to say now. If he thinks too much about it, he'll end up punching him in the face and it probably won't end there. It’s like Neteyam can read his mind, or maybe he’s just good at reading facial expressions, because he’s quick to give an answer to the confused look on your face before Ao’nung even has the chance to open his mouth.

"Sevin", Neteyam says and Ao’nung wants to vomit, "why don’t you turn and face me, hm? It’s rude not to look at the person that is talking to you, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs arms tighten around you, so hard it’s like he’s afraid you‘ll float away if he won’t hold you close enough.

But then you whisper a soft, "It’s okay", and uncontrolled jealousy punched right at his gut as you wriggled yourself free.

It’s almost like he had forgotten for a moment that this was kinda part of the deal. That he’s not the one that’s supposed to be jealous. That if he were a good friend, he would’ve gotten up and left ten minutes ago, give the two of you some space, help you achieve the goal you’ve been working so hard for the past year or so.

Usually, Ao’nung could camouflage all and any feelings from anyone very well behind angry glares and scornful smiles. He was an impenetrable wall for those around him. Except for you, of course, who could normally read him like an open book. But now that your attention was entirely directed to someone else, you couldn’t even see the way a flash of hurt and jealousy came over his face for just a heartbeat.

Your hands trembled as he helped maneuver you to sit on his lap, facing Neteyam that sat opposite of you.

"That’s much better, isn’t it?" He grins and you give him a sheepish little nod, blushing even deeper as he purrs a whispered praise. Ao’nungs arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him. He feels the soft of your bottom pressed against his crotch, and if it weren’t for the current situation, he would’ve loved nothing more than to slide into you and take you just like this. Unfortunately, the omatikaya sitting right in front him then continues to talk and sets every single nerve inside him on fire with the urge to get up and push his head under the waters surface until he stops mov—

"I meant what I said, by the way." He says and all of those murderous thoughts inside his head come to an halt. "There’s no need to stop doing what you’re doing just because I’m here."

He wants to laugh in the forest boy’s face, but decides to shove it back down and manages to keep his expression impassive.

"On the contrary. I‘m very content with watching." A seductive little wink is send your way and Ao’nungs whole body tenses. Neteyams gaze then lands on him and Ao’nung suddenly knows that he wants him to try something.

Ao’nung has a temper. He‘s always had a temper, everyone knows, and Neteyam is just trying to be provocative, Ao’nung tries to remind himself. But now his temper already flares, bright and white-hot, and he almost doesn't care about a response, doesn’t care about what he could answer to this as long as it hurts, so he bites his tongue hard enough to taste copper.

It’s unfortunate for both of them, that Neteyam can’t seem to shut up, despite the fact that neither him nor you had said anything yet. He‘s confident in every word that leaves his mouth, not even caring about what the two of you would think of him as he goes on, "Oh, right, I almost forgot. Since your dear friend hasn’t told you yet, I guess it’s my duty to enlighten you."

One of his hands curls into a fist and he can't seem to relax it, before he realizes it’s your hip that he’s squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but he lingers for a long moment before he can force himself to loosen up. He apologizes with a fleeting kiss to your shoulder, making sure to hold eye contact with the man in front of him, like it’s two Pxazang‘s battling for territory.

"Ao’nung and I had a very nice conversation this morning, and he actually made the proposal to…", his lip curls into a dangerous smile, "share you."

Ao’nungs mind goes blank. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Share you? But he did not…

His mouth opens to object, but all words seem to fail him, his brain struggling to keep up with what was happening, while he simultaneously tried to understand what Neteyam wanted to achieve with this lie.

"If that is something you would want, of course."

There it is again, that act of fake innocence, pretending to be oh, such a good and caring guy. It breaks his heart to see it working so well on you.

You glance up at him with those nantang puppy eyes full of hope and anticipation, "You… You did?"

But there’s silence and Ao’nung just looks at you. He listens once Neteyam opens his mouth again, he has to listen because his throat feels too dry to speak.

"Oh, yeah", he responds for him. A white lie, like everything else he had told you so far. "He told me how good of a friend you are and that this would be something you would truly enjoy. And I know for a fact that you really deserve this."

No. No, you don’t deserve this, don’t deserve him. And sharing you like this was never part of the deal, it wasn’t part of the agreement to take a part in any of this, to watch his filthy hands touch you. Ao’nung was never one to share his possessions– he never talked about his feelings, he just acted, knowing what he wanted and going for it. That was how he did everything; with quick deliberation leading to a fast resolve, quite the opposite of Neteyams tendency to manipulate.

"You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you? Letting your friend arrange this for you", Neteyam chuckles and Ao’nung realizes just now, how much you’re squirming on his lap. "Why don’t you show me just how sweet your are, hm sevin?"

He’s only playing a role, Ao’nung has to remind himself. As much as he prayed for it to become reality, you weren’t his. He was just your friend. But if being a good friend meant to participate in whatever this was, so be it. At least he could be here for you, take care of you even when you were in another man’s arms.

It was comforting, in a way. Comforting like rays of sun soaking into his skin, so much so, that he‘ll forget what damage they can do if he stays to long under her comfortable shine. He‘ll burn, sooner or later, feel the pain when it’s already too late. But it feels good now, so he tries to stop worrying about everything else.

The feeling of your slick rubbing against his thighs reached a point where it was impossible for him to ignore, even though it hurt to know he wasn’t the main reason for this.

His gaze never leaves its target sitting across from him, not even as he dips his hands below the waters surface and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. The surprised little squeak you emit was kind of cute, he thought, as he lifted you out of the hot spring.

Your soft hands cling to him as Ao’nung makes himself comfortable, sitting down onto the flat rocks that enclose the pool of water, while he holds yourself up and open for Neteyam to see. Your legs are spread as far as they can go, and said omatikaya can be seen swallowing the salvia that pools in his mouth at the sight.

You were a piece of art; gorgeous, pretty and wet, droplets of water running down your curves, mixing with arousal that ran down your thighs. But you were also pretentious, greedy, and entirely spoiled and that was entirely his fault. And he knew how to play that card all too well.

Ao’nung nuzzled his nose against your cheek, up to your ear where he whispered, "You want him? Then show him", before licking the shell of your ear, making you shudder in his hold.

Even he felt the flush of dark embarrassment tickle up your spine, before you wriggled a hand free and lowered it between your spread thighs. A fingertip slid between your folds, teasing your slippery entrance with a quiet whimper.

"Don’t be shy", Ao’nung murmured, nipping on your throat. "C‘mon, tsawke. Be a good girl and put a finger in."

Nodding, you pressed your index finger against your slippery entrance, slowly pushing in to the last knuckle. Then, you wriggle a second finger in beside the first one, and start to ease them out together, then back in; a slow, slick push.

The moans that tumble from your parted lips are like the sweetest most familiar melody to him. To Neteyam, they are the reason one of his hands has disappeared below the surface, casting ripples in the water.

You curve your finger a little more and pick up the pace, thrusting them faster. The squelching sounds they coax out from between your thighs filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned by the sound of his own ragged breathing, his heart thumping against his chest in the same rhythm his cock throbbed heavily, yearning for friction, for your hands to touch him, your tight cunt to wrap around his length and swallow him whole.

"Just like that, you’re doing so good", Ao’nung coos softly against the shell of your ear, "Look how much he’s enjoying the show. See what you do to him?" He tips his chin up and your eyes flutter open to get a glance of Neteyam. His ears are pinned back, eyes half lidded, with lips slightly parted and chest heaving as he strokes himself under the water. Ao’nung has to swallow back his own pride in order to play this role, yet he enjoys being the one that can touch you so freely while all Neteyam can do is watch as it happens. "He wants to touch you so bad", he chuckles lowly into your ear and your body decides to respond for you, hips canting forward to push your own fingers in deeper. "I bet he wants to know what you feel like, warm and wet around him. How tight you are. Fuck, if only he knew how good it feels whenever you come around my cock, the way you squeeze me. See his eyes? He’s hungry for you, tsawke. He wants to know how you taste like, too."

A helpless little whimper escapes you from his words and Ao’nung grins, the tip of his fangs sparking with mischief. "Should we make him watch, hm? Or do you want to invite him?"

"Nung", you mewl, plead with your eyes as you glance over your shoulder to meet his.

"I won’t do it for you", he whispers, tilting his head towards the other man with a sigh, "Use your words if you want him."

Your eyes follow his line of sight. Neteyam groans, then closes his eyes for a brief second and throws his head back in bliss, before he looks back at you with a dirty smile.

"What is it, hm?", Neteyam asks, "What do you want, paskalin?"

Your toes curl at the sound of his voice, raspy and laced with a certain type of hunger that could only be satisfied by one thing alone. And that thing is you. Breath hitching, you make a whiny little noise that almost sounds like a plea for the forest boy’s name, but that seems to be all you manage.

"Can’t get the words out, huh?", he chuckles, "That’s okay. Fuck, just look at that pretty pussy, doing all the talking for you. Look how she’s dripping, so eager to be filled, but your hands aren’t enough, are they? You need my help, pretty girl?"

Ao’nungs own fingers itch to help you out, to show him just how perfectly he can fill you with them. That there’s no need for this demons spawn here, that he’s the only one you need to satisfy you.

You seem to think otherwise, because you’re nodding quick and desperate, and Neteyam groans at the sight of your clenching hole once you had pulled your fingers out. A wordless inventions for him to take their place. So Ao’nung continues to hold your legs open wide as Neteyam pushes himself off the rocks and approaches slowly, gracefully walking through the waist deep water to stand before you.

With the way Ao’nung had hoisted you up and held you spread open as he sat on the flat rocks surrounding the hot spring, Neteyam didn’t even had to kneel or crouch to be eye level with what he craved most and the realization made him lick his lips in anticipation.

His hands find the soft of your thighs, caressing your skin before he placed soft kisses here and there, making you shiver in Ao’nungs hold. With his eyes entirely fixed on yours, Neteyam then runs the tip of his tongue through your wet folds and groans at the taste.

"Eywa, woman", he curses under his breath, then attaches his lips to where your slick oozes out in a clear, honey-like stream. "You’re so sweet, paskalin", it’s muffled against your cunt, before he withdraws and glances up at Ao’nung. "Does she always get this wet?"

You let out an impatient whimper and Ao’nung places a soothing kiss to your shoulder.

"For me?", he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous and he feels the goosebumps rise on your body. "Every single time, yes."

Neteyam grins. "Must be my lucky day then. Look how she’s dripping for me."

He takes his sweet time returning to you then, kissing and stroking everywhere but where you need him, but when he finally does, you gasp and moan as he nibbles at your clit, arches when he cups your ass and, with the soft sucking noises he makes, it felt he was drinking you in.

You moaned again, breathlessly, bonelessly, and your back arched away from Ao’nungs chest, or at least you tried to. Feeling so good, so stupidly happy, Neteyam then ran his tongue up and down your slit again and your moans turned into a wail.

He returned to lick and suck at your clit, alternating with a smooth up-and-down stroke with two of his fingers, teasing and circling your clit, then gently prodding them at your entrance.

"Mnnh– Fuck, ah, please, please", you whimpered breathlessly, hips bucking helplessly to get his fingers to slip inside, your head falling fully back against Ao’nungs chest. "Neteyam, p-please!"

But Neteyam only sped up, his tongue wet and rough and steady against your clit, groaning into you at the sound of his name from your lips, and pressing his face against your pussy like you actually taste of nectar or honey or any of those tooth rotting sweet fruit the Sullys enjoyed to eat.

Meanwhile, Ao’nung placed several open mouthed kisses from your throat to your jaw, enough of an hint to make you turn your head and claim your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It was wet and filthy, just tongues and teeth as he devoured you, as Neteyam devoured your other set of lips.

You were moaning into the kiss, wanton and desperate, before finally, a set of fingers were pushed past your entrance and curled just right, while Neteyam kissed and sucked on your clit so passionately, Ao’nung felt the way your whole body tensed.

And then, then you were coming, bucking, crying out weakly even though it seemed you had no breath left in you. Shuddering and shuddering all through your body, shuddering between two hot bodies who worshipped you, who were holding you, staring at you like prey- beautiful, delicious prey, both of them so very hungry for you.

"Good girl", was murmured lowly into your ear, "Keep coming for us, c’mon let it all out. Let him taste how delicious you are."

Neteyams tongue continued to lap at your flowing arousal, groaning against your folds between filthy slurping noises. "Hmm, fuck. Is that all for me? So good, paskalin, you taste so good."

You kept your eyes closed and let the little tremors and aftershocks go through you, just breathing in tiny happy hums, because, eywa bless them to whatever heaven existed, they were both still touching you, gently and slowly. Neteyam kissing you softly, Ao’nung nuzzling his face into the crock of your neck, sucking on your throat, until eventually your breathing slowed, and you swallowed, opening your eyes.

Immediately, you were met with two golden eyes, looking up at you from between your thighs.

"Neteyam", you pant, "m-more. I want more. Please."

"Oh, do you?", he chuckles as he rises to stand on his full height, towering over you. "You’re such a cute little thing, so needy." He tips your chin up with a finger, then tilts his head as he grins down at you. "Think you can take both of us?"

There’s the sound of an audible gulp and neither Neteyam nor Ao‘nung himself can stifle a chuckle at this. You squirm in his arms for that one, grinding down against his cock that’s been trapped between his stomach and your lower back, making him grunt.

"I‘ll take that as a yes", Neteyam smiles wickedly, exchanging a look with Ao‘nung. He then stepped just a little closer, truly sandwiching you between them both before he hooked an arm under your thigh so Ao’nung could trace his hand down your spine and dip it down lower. Goosebumps run up your neck as his hand kneads one of your ass cheeks and then slides between them. Ao’nung expertly locates your dripping entrance from behind, fingers swirling in your arousal, dipping inside for good measure and he hums lowly at the sound of your weak little moans.

You’re always wet, always wet for him, beautiful and perfect, eywa, the way you just fit, it's like you plug into everything, everything that makes him high, incoherent, hard.

"You want this?", Ao’nung whispers into your ear, his tongue teasing your lobe. You clench around his fingers and give him a quick, desperate nod, so eager to be filled. He grins at that. His fingers retreat, covered in arousal he lets them glide between your cheeks to feel for your puckered hole.

"You want me in here, hm?"

Your whiny whimper of "Yes, please!" is completely satisfying to his ears. Your lack of surprise makes Neteyam realize you’ve done this before, and that mental image is a delicious one. One finger then eases into your tight hole slowly, fluidly. Neteyam watches with hungry, half lidded eyes as Ao’nung spreads you open on one and then two of his thick fingers, watches how expertly you take him in as he spreads your legs a little further to give the other man more space to work with. More slick is running down your pretty cunt, like a silent plea for him to fill it.

It's not long, though, before you’re squirming, the position you’re in making it impossible to push back against his fingers but they both know you’re trying to. It’s also not long until your moans turn louder, back arching, and you make a sound of protest when Ao’nung finally pulls his fingers out and deems you as loose enough. His cock is so painfully hard, leaking more pre-cum than he thought was even possible. He had to get inside you now, had to have you because in the back of his mind there still lingered this thought that after this, it could’ve been the last time he would get to feel you, to hold you, to fuck you, ever again.

So he wraps an arm around you, the other hand securing your thigh, while both of Neteyams hands hold onto the underside of your knees to spread your legs for them.

"Together then", Neteyam grins and Ao’nung can’t help but glare at him over your shoulder. Not even this situation could change anything about the grudge he’s holding against that forest boy.

A quick glance down your front reveals the sight of Neteyam pushing the length of his cock between your slippery folds, lubing himself with your slick.

The tremor that passes through your body seems more intense than usual, once you feel Ao’nung get into position too.

"Breathe, tsawke", he says, the tip of his cock nudging against your backside. You nod, inhale, exhale, and then they both push into you slowly, spreading you apart. Another whimper tumbles from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut and Ao’nung places a tender kiss to your temple as he slides further in.

"Good girl, just relax for me", he coos, "you’re doing so good."

For a moment it's too much, you’re way too tight and he thinks your body just can't reach that far, but then Neteyam seems to be fully inside while he slowly pushes deeper with minimal resistance. Neteyam groans, his grip on your legs tightening as he feels Ao‘nung move into place alongside him. You’re stretching around them both like you were made for this, and then Ao’nung glances at the space between your legs where you’re all joined, and there isn't a slither of space.

"Fuuck, look at that", the forest boy pants, smiling almost proudly. He gives the first languid thrust that makes you mewl. "That feel good, hm? You like being stuffed full of us, don’t you sevin?"

A whiny "Y-Yes", comes as a response, followed by a string of incoherent pleas for them to finally move.

"You sound so pretty when you beg, paskalin", Ao’nung says, granting your wishes with slow thrusts, making you feel every inch of him as he slides himself into you. Better adjusted now, your body welcomes him with every snap of his hips. Neteyam sets up a quicker rhythm, pistoning in and out of your body roughly, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot at just the right angle.

You flex your inner walls, squeezing his cock, until you feel him throb inside you with the change, moaning, and his gaze entirely fixed on where you are joined.

"Eywa, that little pussy is gripping me so tight. No wonder you kept her all to yourself. I wouldn’t share her with anyone, not even if she begged me to."

Their eyes meet for a second and Ao’nung’s breath is hot on your neck as he whispers, "you’re mine, aren’t you? He’s just lucky I can’t deny you any of your filthy wishes." Reaching to cup one of your breasts in his hands, he tweaks a nipple and earns a dirty little moan in response, your soft, velvety-like walls pulsating around their cocks.

"Oh f-fuck, make her do that again!"

Ao’nung was rubbing your nipples more roughly now, and your voice goes hoarse when Neteyam simultaneously thumbs at your throbbing clit. "Yeah, good girl", he praises you, thrusting into you faster, "so good, sevin. Shit, you feel so fucking good around me."

You’re close, Ao’nung can tell by the way you’re writhing, by the way your breath hitches when the tip of Neteyams cock brushes against your cervix, by the way your face twists with ecstasy when he fucks you harder, deeper.

He removes his hand from your nipple and slips it between your bodies, fingertips fighting for their place to rub against that swollen bundle of nerves alongside Neteyams, until your whole body is arching and your jaw drops.

"Nung", you moan like a prayer, "you’re– so big. M‘so full, gonna come!" It’s like you’re trying to finish him just with your words, and fuck, you might manage it if you carry on. His head falls to your shoulder and he presses his lips against your skin, then up your neck until your mouths are crushed together, a desperate thrashing of tongues and lips.

Words were entirely washed out of your system, your mind completely overtaken by the fullness of two cock sliding in and in and then all the way out just to slip back in, harder, tight body gripping and squeezing them.

It was all heat and pleasure. All those sensations, thoughts and emotions. Everything so close, but you just couldn’t reach it. Not yet. You felt like a puppet on a string, waiting for any of them to pull the right thread and help you to your release.

You’re right on the edge, right there.

The moment he breaks the kiss, Neteyam catches your lips in another, his tongue swirling around yours and a bitter part of Ao’nung hopes you still taste like him. If that is the case, Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind. His hips continue to snap hard against yours as he exchanges moans and spit through the kiss. It’s a filthy rhythm the both of them had set, various body fluids smearing between three tangled bodies.

Every time one thrusts in they brush over your pleasure spot, leaving you sobbing and writhing on their cocks, clutching on their arms so hard it hurts, chanting their names in between moans, hardly able to catch your breath.

"Let go, c‘mon I know you need it so bad", Ao’nung groans lowly into your ear, thrusting in just as the other man pulls out, which leaves you in a constant state of fullness, never empty for even a second. "Be a good girl and come for us."

It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. Your entire body tightens as you cry out their names, nails sinking so deep he’d be surprised if they haven’t drawn blood.

"There it is, pretty girl. Great mother, look at you creaming around my cock, gonna make me cum too", Neteyam groans, throwing his head back in bliss. He was thrusting into you so hard now, it knocked the very air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath.

The little breath left in you was then stolen by a deep kiss, Ao’nung sucking on your tongue as he continued to pound into you, unable to think of anything else besides the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.

"Gonna cum inside you", he groans into the kiss, "Can’t hold back, I just need to fill you up, gonna fuck my cum into you and— hngh– shit!" He plunges into you, one, two, three more times and then comes with a grunt of your name.

Your legs were already shaking with the aftershocks of your own orgasms, twitching from overstimulation while Neteyam gave one last thrust, hips pausing, and then you felt it flowing— hot shots of cum pumped into you, filling you up nice and warm as he lost himself inside you with a low moan.

Ao‘nung wasn’t entirely sure if you could even hear him at this point, but he still kept the reassurance up anyway as they both gently lowered you back into the hot spring.

"Can't say that was a bad time, fish lips," Neteyam grinned, glancing at your relaxed face resting against Ao’nungs shoulder. Your eyes had fluttered closed a few minutes ago, as the metkayina man was carefully cleaning the sweat and other body fluids from your skin, holding you tight against his chest.

"Don't get used to it." Ao’nung warns in a hushed whisper, "I doubt I'll share her again."

"Wouldn't expect it. Worried I'll steal her away?"

"No. But I keep close tabs on what's mine," he counters, blue eyes cold as he watches the other man rearrange his loincloth.

Neteyams grin widens at this, and he shoots him a playful wink, "We‘ll see about that", before he leaves off to the village.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao‘nungs hammock might as well be carved from stone.

He hadn’t been able to get much, if not any sleep at all these past couple of days. Shifting restlessly, he’s forcing his eyes to close once more every time they inevitably drift open, but it’s not working. So he’s staring at the ceiling of his marui, at the woven walls, and out into the dark blue sky. It only makes his frustration worse. Days have gone by and now half the night has already passed, by the time he finally comes to terms with the fact that jealousy truly is an ugly emotion. But it somehow always reveals the truth. And it’s not like he didn’t already know the truth before. No, he knew.

He could joke about it all he wanted, whenever Tsireya made her teasing little comments about it. Could laugh it off and roll his eyes at his younger sister, tell her she’s just imagining things and that this is all just a means to get another man jealous. He’s just being a good friend. He turned these comments into jokes, because he‘s afraid to take anything seriously. Because if he takes things seriously, they matter. But it does matter. It matters so much, that it hurts now. Truth is, Ao’nung held his love for you so horrible discreet, that it was as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound. And now he was bleeding out. Painful and slow and irreversible.

Sharing you was a bad idea. Probably the worst he’s ever had, there was no doubt in it.

Ao‘nung tosses and turns in his hammock, unable to rest for any moment longer as his thoughts dared to consume him whole. Willing his body to get up before the sun was even beginning to rise, he found solace in the rhythmic crashing of waves down at the beach.

Ao’nung wishes that he could just have some kind of treatment to fix this problem. If only the tsahìk could cut his chest open and take his heart out to make it stop. Maybe eywa would bless him with a new one, one that wasn’t stained and stabbed and torn apart. Maybe it would take away the sick, knife-twisting pain he felt in his chest whenever he did as much as look at you. But in its own way, it was a good kind of pain. Like a constant reminder of just how much he was in love with you. How good it felt to love you. It was good, except for how it made him feel sick whenever you laced your fingers up together and squeezed his hand as though Ao’nung was something precious, something to be loved, and once again he catches himself wishing that you might ever look at him in the ways that Ao’nung looks at you.

It pisses him off to be reminded that he's supposed to be good at keeping his head, at keeping his distance, at not letting his lies consume him, the way that they're doing now. The way that they've done since this whole thing started. That this is all just a game of play pretend and you’re not really his.

Besides everything else he's doing that's completely unhelpful to this dilemma, Ao’nung’s overlooking one crucial detail: how can he stop pretending, when this is probably the closest he'll ever get to actually being yours, to you being his? How can he stop pretending when he's already made you this stupid, shiny little bracelet, because it would scandalize Neteyam in the entire, to think that Ao’nung and you are so into each other that you’re trading what could be mistaken as a courting gifts. And because it's the closest thing that Ao’nung will ever get to actually giving you a courting gift. He just has to take what little gifts he can from the world, right? So he can’t end it. He can’t end this arrangement. Not yet.

"Become my mate."

A simple statement. A straightforward question with a straightforward answer. But he would never actually ask that, would never receive an answer to this that wouldn’t hurt him, so he might as well continue to live in this perfect world that he lets himself envision.

Ao’nung turns the bracelet in his hands, thumb swiping over the carefully polished pearls. One of them sort of looks like the color of your eyes, as much as a simple blue pearl can emulate the deep ocean blue of yours and the way they sparkle when you look at him. The whole thing doesn't really capture your essence, it just made him think about you, and that's why he picked it out. He would give it to you today, he thought. He knows you would wear it for him, and maybe the thought of you wearing this for him, wearing something that would always mark you as his would make it enough for a little while longer. Maybe one day he would get his ass up and just ask you, would ruin your friendship just for the teeny tiny chance of you not turning his offer down. Maybe you would be his, one day. Truly his.

It’s when the first rays of sun begin to shine over the ocean, that he’s greeted by the sight of his own, personal warm solace. Sometimes that shines brighter and warmer than the sun herself. His ears perk up at the sound of you calling his name, waving your arms at him and a smile tugs on his lips. Always up early, he thinks, rising to his feet.

"It worked!" You squeak happily, jumping into his arms and Ao’nung continues to smile at you, albeit a little confused. You break away from the hug first, jumping excitedly and pointing to a piece of jewelry dangling from your wrist. He stares at it blankly, each breath making his lungs feel like they were filled to the brim with shards of glass.

His palm closed tightly around the bracelet in his own hand, tight enough he could feel the little shells cutting into his palm.

He knew this would eventually happen.

He could feel it in the back of his mind, lingering like a muscle he's held tensed so long that he can no longer remember what it felt like to be otherwise.

What Ao’nung didn't expect was, that it would be this soon. He really thought he still had time. More time. More time with you, before he would loose you to another man. Time to change his fate, time to–

"It worked! Neteyam courted for me, look!"

Ao’nung felt something in him shatter, breaking to the point of no repair. Breaking so violently that he wondered if it was possible for no one to have heard it. He felt it burn his skin, his eyes, the inside of his chest. Felt it burn like the sun burns, like it would burn if he tried to touch it. Ao’nung felt himself melt away and burn, and that’s when he reminds himself of the reason for the nickname he had chosen for you.

Tsawke. Because you are his sun.

And nothing feels as good and hurts as much as loving the sun. Because as well as she can make you feel good, as fast she can burn you.

#Ao’nung #Neteyam #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #ao’nung x female reader #ao’nung x female reader smut #ao’nung x reader #aonung #ao’nung x you #aonung x reader #ao’nung x y/n #aonung x female reader #aonung x you #atwow neteyam #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut

[billthebullfrogs]

sure thing.

“Hey, firecracker,” a voice—unmistakable, to you, at least —calls from behind, and you instantly knew who it was. “Need to talk to you.”

There was only one person that would call you that nickname. Luke Castellan, the bane of your existence, thought it was extremely funny to remind you of that one time you almost burnt down the pavilion. The moment they figured out it was you; you had earned the nickname you dreaded so much. He loved reminding you of embarrassing stuff you did. You desperately wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face. What did he even want? Didn’t he have something better to do than to bother you?

He leaned against one of the posts in the arena, eyebrows raised expectantly. He just needed a change from training the newbies. He wanted to go all out, and the best person to do that with was sadly you. Well, at least the satisfaction he’d get from beating you—because he would beat you, obviously, was totally worth it.

You sighed, “What?”

“Need a sparring partner, that's all,” he said, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips, now accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “And I'd rather have you than anyone in this camp.”

“That sounded too nice for your standards... Are you that desperate?” Your eyes narrowed; you were skeptical.

“Desperate to beat your ass, yes," he said, an easy laugh breaking past the steely look on his face. Luke was aware of the fact that he often annoyed you, and maybe he liked it just a little. "Besides, I wanna try some new sword techniques I came up with. So, whaddya say? Pretty please?" His head tilted a little when he said that, he was giving you that look.

You were silent, biting your lips just like you always did when you were focused. After a moment, you gave in. “Fine,” you said. Maybe you’d benefit from this, too.

"That’s my girl," he said as he casually walked toward you. "I promise not to go easy on you. If you feel like you're gonna trip and impale yourself with my sword, just say the word, alright?" A smirk flitted past his lips, though his words seemed genuine enough. Luke knew you would never stop being rivals. But the feeling of respect he had for you was real. He trusted you and even cared for you, but he’d rather commit war crimes than admit that.

“Fuck you,” you spat as you got into your signature fighting stance. Maybe this was a mistake, but if you gave up already, he’d think you’d gotten cold feet.

“If you ask nicely.”

That smug bastard. You hated him with all your heart. You hated his stupid smile and the way he made everyone around him feel comfortable, even you. You hated the butterflies he gave you. You hated his guts.

With a smooth slashing motion towards his torso, you started the fight. He blocked it with ease. Without a further word, Luke went in towards you with a quick and precise strike, sword arm extended forward in a tight grip with the tip aimed towards your sternum. He wanted to overwhelm you, thinking you hadn’t improved since the last time you sparred. But oh, was he wrong.

You’ve been watching him, his rather aggressive style of fighting, and the look in his eyes when he tried a certain move for a long time now. You’ve fought him many times before, and you were getting the hang of it. You’ve been training a lot, and while he was busy with the new campers, you had developed your own, unique fighting style. He knew you as a pretty good fighter, who could almost keep up with him on a good day. Almost. But now, you’d surpass his expectations. You blocked his hit, your body moving smoothly like liquid. Instead of using all your strength to try and withstand his attacks, you just gave in. Let loose. You used the force of his hit and channeled it, transferring it into your own with ease. He did not see that coming.

You'd always had a strong sense of intuition and your body would respond accordingly, as if it had a mind of its own. Luke was quick to counter, his body leaning back with a fluid motion to avoid any of your quick strikes, all the while trying to find an opening. The back-and-forth movement that was once just a spar has now become a deadly dance of swords, the two of you constantly in motion, no pause in sight. There is a certain excitement in the air, almost a spark that has ignited your mutual hostility and aggression.

Your movements were fluid as if you could predict all of Luke's moves in advance. You were a master of timing, of anticipating all of the demigod's strikes. Not once could he match your fluidity, his movements jerky compared to your graceful flow. There was something about the way you both fought so elegantly that made you feel like you were part of an agile performance, each of you matching the other's movements perfectly. It felt less like a fight and more like an art.

Yet even as you moved with effortless ease, the clash of swords kept you both on your toes, your bodies moving in such perfect sync that neither could find a flaw in the other's defense. Your movements almost appeared as if you were both working together, but this was not the case—in fact, Luke was becoming more frustrated by the second as he strained to find a way to slip past your guard.

“You’ve improved,” he breathed out while you fought. “I like it.” The way he said that sent shivers up your spine. It was embarrassing how these words affected you so hard that you made a small mistake. It was a mistake that could happen to even the best swordsmen in history, but a mistake nonetheless. And it led to his sword held at your throat. You fucked up. And he made you feel it, the cold tip of his sword gently tapping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You prayed that he didn’t notice the color on your cheeks.

“You're distracted too easily.” He looked serious for once, that glint of smugness had left his eyes for just a moment. “I win again.” And there it was again, that stupid smile of his. He dropped his sword and held out a hand to help you up. You let him pull you up, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Did you get what you wanted out of this fight?” You asked, and he nodded. “Much better than trying to teach the newbies not to drop their swords while fighting.”

“Good,” you turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist. “Same time tomorrow?”

You could’ve said no, could’ve walked away, could’ve done ANYTHING, but instead, you looked at him and said, “Sure thing.”

#pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan x reader #pjo #luke castellan #pjo imagine #bullfrogscanwrite

[hijackalx]

FEMALE BG3 CHARACTERS EATING OUT F!READER +18

characters included: karlach, shadowheart, lae’zel, minthara

MALE BG3 CHARACTERS

SHADOWHEART

okay i LOVE the idea of overeager inexperienced shadowheart like it’s SO hot……

she’s a little aggressive and all over the place but she DOES NOT CARE 😹😹

she also gives me selfish vibes, so if she’s eating you out she’s doing it solely for her OWN enjoyment LMAO

loves to tell you to hold still or to be quiet, that way when you slip up she can degrade you

“shut up, you sound like a whore” or “squirming already? how pathetic” she is MEAN

will also knead your tits the whole time. not softly either— it will make you gasp and that’s exactly why she does it 😹😹

prefers to have your hands bound above your head so you can’t touch her. she likes seeing how frustrated you get when you can’t pull on her hair/move closer when she teases

will spit on it. and she will hold eye contact with you while you watch as it drips from her mouth onto your pussy

gets SO wet from eating you out

she will reach between her legs every once in a while to touch herself because she gets so worked up

sometimes she’ll get too distracted in her own pleasure and just start whimpering/panting into your pussy

if she doesn’t already finish before you then she’ll IMMEDIATELY want you to return the favor

KARLACH

she aims to PLEASE

you WILL be having a life changing orgasm every time. no 3 second O’s over here baby 😹😹

she can tell when you’re close and adjusts her pace to make you hold off for just a littleee longer (a lot longer)

wishes she could live in between your legs. obsessed with the way you smell and taste so much

likes when you start telling her what to do— she is more than happy to do what you want because of how badly she wants to watch you come apart

grab her by the horns and move her where you want and she’ll moan

will dig her nails (claws?) into your thighs occasionally, not because she wants to hurt you but because she gets so into it

if she leaves marks she’ll make sure to kiss them better 💗

the more of a reaction you give her the more her tail thrashes around excitedly. it has a mind of its own honestly 😹😹

speaks almost exclusively in praise and reassurance. “you’re being so patient for me”, “don’t worry— mama’s gonna take good care of you”

LOVES having your thighs over her shoulders and against her head/ears. also likes that she can feel every involuntary twitch and tremor of your legs on her back

lowkey likes when she can still smell you on her top lip afterwards LMAO 😹😹

MINTHARA

you would think she’d be aggressive and mean but i think she’s lowkey pretty sensual? still very stern though. very much giving mommy dom vibes

EXPERIENCED. she knows what she’s doing and you can tell

will make you BEG !!!!!!

teases you with her tongue until you are whimpering and crying for her. needs to see you fully submit before she gives you what you want

you need to be aware of how lucky you are that she wants to do this. she doesn’t give head to just anyone

will always encourage you to be loud. if she notices that you’re suppressing your voice she’ll pull away— she needs to be able to hear you otherwise she feels like it’s not worth it 😹😹

can be really sweet in subtle ways. will kiss your pussy/inner thighs occasionally or absentmindedly run her thumb over your skin

also if you reach out to hold her hand she’ll give it to you without hesitation

her tone when she talks to you is almost condescending. she thinks it’s kind of pathetic how badly you need her. but she loves it

“your eagerness to give in to me is pitiful”, “you’re a greedy little thing”

sometimes she’ll hum/groan into your pussy with her low, raspy voice and it’s so 😩

will kiss you while/after you come so you taste yourself. with LOTS of tongue

LAE’ZEL

y’all are not going to want to hear this but i get pillow princess vibes from lae’zel LMFAO

i think she defaults to the receiving end so her eating you out is something you have to initiate. she WILL do it though

she has the most perfect, pouty lips for eating pussy. they’re so soft and plump 🥵

LOVES when u pull her hair. she tries to hold back her moans but if you do it enough she’ll eventually give up lol

a glutton for praise— she needs the reassurance that she’s doing a good job. she can’t stand the thought of not being perfect at something 😹😹

will want you to hold your thighs up towards your stomach so you’re as spread open as possible lol. that way she can tease your hole easier. also she just thinks it’s hot

loves the way your thighs look in that position. will run her hands over them a lot. usually pretty roughly

likes to use her fingers while she eats you out too. just overall really handsy

REALLY possessive over your body, but especially your pussy. she seriously worships it

doesn’t really talk a lot, mostly just groaning/growly type noises. will occasionally say something like “you’re mine” or “you belong to me”

gets sooo excited when she can tell you’re about to cum lmao she watches you SO intently with her big doe eyes. she has no idea how cute she looks (don’t tell her or she’ll get flustered 😹😹)

smugly waits for you to tell her how amazing it was afterwards

#shania twain voice LETS GO GIRLS #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #shadowheart #karlach #lae’zel #minthara #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae’zel x reader #minthara x reader #x reader #my headcanons

[doobea]

♡‧₊˚ i got my eyes on you ೄྀ࿐ˊˎ ─ MILESTONE MASTERLIST

HI EVERYONE!! I hope everyone is excited to this milestone event hehe! It ended up being 10 reqs in total and I just wanna send everyone a HUGE thank you again for sticking with me throughout the months on this crazy site hehe. I tried to keep most of the tropes relevant to the original requests but I added my own ideas/flare to some of them!! any of the ✰'s you see are added hehe

For those who are out of the loop, please refer to this OG post about the event! Anyways, I hope you guys look forward to this!! I've been dying to write some new ideas hehe

COMING SOON:

OF THREADS AND RIBBONS ─ MEGUMI F.

synopsis: you can see the red strings of fate holding people together, but no one is allowed to know that. that fact didn't stop you from using your knowledge to nudge soulmates together. of course, this led to you getting a reputation as the class matchmaker, which isn't an issue until your soulmate, Megumi Fushiguro, asks you to set him up with someone else.

tropes: soulmate AU, college AU

ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ─ MEGUMI F.

synopsis: upon graduating and landing your first job outside of college, you soon realize that being in your twenties suck. outside of working nine hours everyday, setting time for the gym, and making shitty home cooked meals, you have a new stressor joining your team on monday - your ex.

tropes: second chances, office romance

NOT LIKE GOLD IN YOUR DREAMS ─ SUKUNA R.

synopsis: your tycoon family has done you the favor of finding the 'perfect' bachelor, aiming to strengthen their connections and net worth. and who is your future husband? cold, brash, and down right dangerous. he is the definition of devastation poured and disguised in a suit.

tropes: arranged marriage, slow burn, billionaire!sukuna ✰

BUT YOU'RE A MASTERPIECE ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: when your friends urge you to take up a new hobby, you decide on figure drawing. you convince yourself that it'll be a good way to make friends, to let your hands and mind run loose for three hours, and maybe you'll find the passion for art again. what you didn't expect is to fall in love with your nude model.

tropes: slow burn, model/artist AU ✰

NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: the last thing you'd expect after moving to raccoon city is a zombie outbreak. but good thing you have a hot police officer to look after you, right?

tropes: zombie AU, christmas AU, police officer!gojo ✰, resident evil AU ✰

YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.

tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat

SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.

synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.

tropes: best friend's brother, forced proximity, tutor!reader ✰

FROM NEW YORK, WITH LOVE ─ RIN I.

synopsis: new york city is always depicted as the place to be, known for its big hopes and even bigger dreams. but when you and rin reunite, after being apart for two years, you're both surrounded by broken promises and empty wishes. maybe coming here was a mistake after all. because exs can't just be friends, right?

tropes: second chance, hurt/comfort, college AU

NEW GAME PLUS ─ RIN I.

synopsis: ranked number three on the top streaming platform, twitch, rin hides his secret identity pretty well for a college student. during the day, he's studying non-stop and, when night comes, he's getting headshots left and right while yelling into comms. he absolutely hates losing, which is why you're on his shit list - AKA the second top streamer and the second best sniper in all of asia. so what does rin do when he finds out that you're suddenly his new project partner?

tropes: esport AU, rivals to lovers, college AU, overwatch ✰ (i picked this game bc i know a lot of it lol i hope you don't mind)

ICE, ICE, BABY ─ YOICHI I.

synopsis: you don't do spontaneous and you hate it when things don't align with your routine. so when the school's hockey team messes up their rink and has to settle with the figure skating one, you'll do everything in your power to make sure you'll reach the nationals - even if it means distracting the hockey team's star player.

tropes: hockey player!isagi, figure skater!reader ✰, enemies to lovers

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

#doobea writing #doobea milestone - masterlist #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader

[azure-cherie]

PAC : How are your guides / angels / God's / ancestors / working for you

Hellooo , how have you guys been ❤️?? Please choose the picture / pictures that resonate with you , know that this is a general reading and everything might not resonate, i hope a lot of does for you ❤️

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1 :

Dear pile 1 , what I receive is your guides/ spirits gods have been preparing you for a journey , they are throwing on opportunities for you to multitask , travel by air is significant for you guys for the coming months , things are going to spice up now , you will learn how to live , i believe lot of you here are young adults or just got into adulting , they are protecting and teaching you lovingly the ways of the world , they are teaching you how to handle responsibility in the real world .

They are taking in charge to work out some debatable situations so that you can practice your communication skills more , to argue with someone is a thing and to learn to keep your self respect and keep your point is another that's exactly what your guides have been planning on , they are making sure you can always find a common ground in a discussion always keeping your point with integrity

Practicality is something they are pushing you towards if you hear a voice while you study that you can do it it's them the lovely gods !!!! If you are motivated to plant seeds in your garden it's them the lovely gods!!!!! If you hear a voice while overspending that you are infact doing it's it's them the lovely gods !!!! They are keeping this check on you so that you can take valuable decisions in the future

They are lifting you of burdens and tell you to keep going in the journey, protecting you from a person who has been trying to lurk on your energy because they feel victimized from you but you aren't even doing anything to victimiz them , they just need to heal , you should keep going they are working really really hard to keep you on your toes , they are also motivating you to do more things that you love and are offering you a period of transformation, searching and rebirth with the death , fool and Ace of wands in order , it's such a time for you to grow and while the celestial beings give you infinite nourishment belive in yourself and that you are capable of big big thingssss

Ace of wands gives you a new life now it's the time to be courageous you know it all you just have to apply what you know already all the best to you love ;)

Charms : fish , bunny , tambourine, tree of life , sun , ice skater , heart , love letter , four leaved clover , cat , leaf ; letter - T , J ; number - 333 , 666 .

Songs : Brightside by The Lumineers, DNA by Kendrick Lamar , Vanilla Baby by Billie Marten , Fade into you by Mazzy star , Cold water by Justin Bieber .

Pile 2 :

Dear pile 2 , your guides are literally creating space for you , now it's the time to evaluate that what you are doing is really something that you want are you really into it ?! Are your decisions something you will not regret in the future or are you just acting on the spite of the moment , is it worth it ??? I think you guys are choosing a new degree or a new college or a new job in life , a lot of stuff is ending and you are on a cliffhanger whether to take what you already have or aim for more , you know the thing about working for the things we want isn't an act of greed you literally are hustling for it , go on love aim soooo bigggggg

Alright so what I see from the cards is that you might be taking a very big decision in your life thinking about love or thinking about a lover of yours , they are holding you back , I'm sorry to say that but it's the truth , eventually the surroundings and the people have to change , believe in the power of changes and let go of the old stuff there's literally so much more to look forward to , they are teaching you to look for the right thing at the right time , it's hard but this is an essential lesson , be good to yourself

They are making sure that This new phase in your life will bring you new love and new friends that would feel like a family, you will get what you have been longing for . That's so beautiful I'm so happy for you , spirit still wants you to take in less responsibility, one thing about you is you get too much into the lives of people you love some people like it while others don't appreciate it so in the next phase of your life you are required to just focus on the fun and be great with 2-3 people don't get too much into fights, be the mediator take things from one ear and throw it off the other or i believe that you literally will be crying, it's better to be on your own and care about less people, that doesn't mean the love or care you find newly in your life is fake it just means they are very different people with hard exteriors so it will take time to get close to them , take this slow alright.

You have lost only to gain babyyyyyy , whatever has left you has only left you space for so much more , i see more spiritual growth for you , gifts , if you are a reader , more clients , jobs , offers coming your way , all of it is because of your mindset and how beautiful it is , you will be so blessed I can feel it , they made sure that for all the struggles you get a gift and they are creating pathways for you to be in a leadership position you will soon be taking the responsibility and you will take it so well , you know a lot about the world and life in itself and now you are going to use it in such an amazing way !!!!

Charms : pentagram, flower , tennis racket , hammer , pearl , Christian cross ; letters : D, Z , M , P , N ; numbers : 555

Songs : $$$ by Daniela Andrade , Dynamite by BTS , Talk by Khalid , In too deep by Jacob Collier , idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie , Royals by Lorde .

Pile 3

Dear pile 3 , your guides are now teaching you the worth of emotional wealth , the financial wealth is something that you really value but there's some stuff that is literally not worth your time and energy, they are telling you to step in the aura of your authentic heart and how kind it is , how loving it is don't leave it behind , it could also mean that you are spending too much out of kindness , they are making sure you have enough for yourself, you earn to buy things to feel better , don't be guilty while you serve yourself, you truly ardently deserve all of this . They are making ways in which you can make more connections with people to do well in your professional life , if you're someone who's into a psychology profession , they are making ways for you to have more hold on your conversations while working with a client , your advice giving skills are improving so much.

I see them bringing in a new lover in your life , this person is very romantic and loving and caring and giving , i really wanna tell you that your prayers have been heard , if you have ever felt that you are not chosen first this is the time to be literally chosen , you are so so valued rn , this will get you out of sadness or depression, they could be the golden retriever type . I see that you are looking for something long term and they might be the right choice

If you have been looking to travel they are helping you in go for them , by creating pathways , they wanna tell you that a phase in your life has come to an end and how you are to go to a new one and this one will need a lot of courage because there will be malicious people but you will work so hard and take what is rightfully yours , your fire burns greater than their envy and you will rise win and conquer what is yours no matter how frustrating this might seem , you are meant for the greater things.

With the reading ending with the magician, you are gonna alchemise your life all over 360 and they are gonna support you so so so much , all the good things are for youuuu , if you're a tarot reader , you will gain more wisdom, intuition and the power to read others even better now , wish you the besttt !!!!!

Charms : key , stethoscope, leaf , sun , moon , love letter , witch , camel ; letters - S, Y , H , N , V ; numbers - 222, 666 , 555

Songs : Million dollar man by lana del rey, Whispers by Halsey , It's called freefall by Rainbow kitten surprise, Good looking by Suki Waterhouse, Through me by Hozier , Northern lights by Kennie .

Thank you so much for reading i hope you resonated, please let me know if you did it really helps me .

Have a great day/ night ❤️

#pick a photo #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pac readings #pac tarot #tarot pac #pac reading #pac #tarot card reading #tarot reading #tarot cards

[aphroditesmoon]

sweet

osferth x warrior!reader

summary: osferth is in love with you but you are not used to receiving this much attention from anyone.

warnings; nsfw(smut), black cat/golden retriever, slight angst, simp osferth, clueless reader.

a/n: back on my osferth bullshit bcs the movie is coming n yet my fave is de@d😻

°°°

You're not exactly sure how you got to be apart of Uhtred's team. Actually that's not true, you remember exactly how.

The four warriors were being attacked by the same Danes that had owned you silver, lots of them. It was a coincident that killing them gave you what you were owed and Uhtred and his men's freedom.

Uhtred had made it his mission then, to find out more about you, wanting to make sure you weren't a spy or threat after noticing that you weren't exactly apart of the danes not christians. After deeming you harmless (at least to them) and incredibly depressingly lonely, he decided to scout you in as one of his men, like a bored man picking up a grumpy wet soggy kitten from the street.

You made sure you were paid more silver than any of the other men, insisting that you're worth more than them by your skills itself, and soon enough, you stuck with them as if you had always been there all along.

You got along well enough with all of them, letting yourself fall gently in the warm feeling of what it's like to have a semblance of a family.

Though with all the intelligence of a skilled warrior you have, you had not noticed the baby monk Osferth's obvious attempt to pursue you for 2 years now.

You admit you like Osferth more than the others. He was respectful, kind, and has never treated you less like any woman should be treated, although some would argue you barely counted as a woman.

Did you like him romantically? You can't say, making it a principle to never yourself aim for a love like that, it's just not for you.

But when the awkwardly charming warrior monk had kissed you during the festive night of Yule eve, your instinct was to immediately push him away from you, receiving a very offended expression followed by stutters I apologies from him before he scrambled away, like a dog kicked by it's owner.

The next day, you received multiple glares from Finan, and sympathetic grins and chuckles from Sihtric and Uhtred who had found this situation all too amusing.

Osferth had started to avoid you almost completely, never making eye contact and never directly speaking to you unless necessary. And it hurt you.

You should apologize, you knew that. But you weren't exactly sure if what to say, your feelings were complicated even to yourself.

It only gets worse when you found out you'll be staying with Osferth during one of your little missions. Arranged in purpose by Uhtred for sure.

When evening arrives, you notice Osferth leaving the pub early, closing himself in your shared room. You shook off your guilt and grabbed the bottle of liquor, walking away to seat yourself by the empty corner of the loud place, seeking for some peace.

If only peace could ever exist in your life.

You tipped the bottle into your mouth again, taking a big chug from it, wishing the ale would taste a little less like shit.

Taking notice of Finan from the side of your eye, you sigh loudly and cursed him out. The man only gave a humourous laugh and sat next to you.

"If this is about Osferth again, then you shouldn't tire yourself-"

"Oh this is definitely about Osferth." He agreed, receiving a groan from you.

"Finan please-" You started, rudely being cut off. "You did a number on him lad, he's been acting like someone just killed his dog and it's been two weeks." His voice was gentler than before, the worry obvious in his voice.

"I didn't mean it." Your mumbled out meekly, eyes drooping. "I didn't mean to push him away."

"Well that settles it the doesn't it?" The Irishman concluded. "Just go apologize and hump him." You snorted at his easygoing response and shook your head.

"He doesn't just want to hump, he wants to love." You clarify. "And that's so bad, why? I've seen you staring at him like he's made of sunshine and rainbows laddie, I'd thought you'd be happy to have him feel the same way."

You wince at his words, hating the sappy description of yourself that he gave. Rainbows and sunshine.

"Because it doesn't make sense does it? Of course I'd like him, he's kind, and sweet, and everything I don't deserve, everything I am not."

You speak the last word like a curse, a bitter taste on your tongue.

Glancing towards the half drunk Irish, you almost hate yourself for saying what you did, the pity in his eyes was worse than any insult you've had thrown your way.

"You carried Aelfwynn on your back while she was sick and lied to everyone about getting sick from her just so she'd have a chance to reach the royal healers, you've put yourself in front of the lady Aethelflaed to protect her more time than anyone could count, hell you've done it for Osferth more time than he could remember.

- So if you say you're not deserving of kindness and sweetness one more time, I'll make sure to hide the biggest frogs in your bathwater as a punishment."

His voice was teasing, but his eyes were set on you, narrowing down like a nagging father, and you almost hugged him there and then.

"Yeah whatever." You shrugged and look away.

You hear him sigh loudly, as if to prove a point and tried to hide your small smile.

"I should apologize." You repeated your early statement. Rubbing your face tiredly, the liquor doing a terrible job intoxicating you. "Yeah, and you should hump-"

"Goodnight Finan, I'm not listening to you anymore!" You exclaimed loudly and annoyed while getting up on your feet to retire to your small room.

The walk to your room was short but it felt like forever, standing in front of the door, you take a moment to collect some thoughts and steady your heartbeat before turning the knob open.

You feel relieved as you step in, seeing that Osferth was still awake, sitting by his side of the bed, folding in his dirty clothes.

He must've just bathed, you thought to yourself. When you walk closer you notice that his hair was damp, confirming your suspicions.

He acted as if he didn't hear you, but you know he did.

"Osferth." You called out, voice weaker than you intended it to be, almost like you're pleading him.

The silence was agonizing before he responds, you see him stiffen. "Yes?"

You hated how much more confident he sounded than you, but you were the one who owed an apology, so you force your ego aside and placed yourself next to him on the bed.

"I um- I wanted to, apologize?" There was that stuttering now. He raised an eyebrow at you and you feel your face burn.

"Apologize. Yes, I wanted to apologize." Getting your breath under control, you try to appear more put together.

His eyes look away from you and move down to stare at the floorboards. "Whatever for?" He asks, sounding uninterested.

"For pushing you away, when you...kissed me." You answer.

You were watching for his reaction like a hawk eyeing it's prey, feeling uneasy and scared. "Oh, tis not your fault, twas' mine, I should've asked." He says kindly, his old warmth returning to his voice.

"But it's not, nothing could ever be your fault Osferth, You've no foible and if anything your flaw is being too good and having no flaw-"

"Do you think you could ever love me?" He cuts you off, a demanding tone.

You turn silent from your rant, heartbeat fastening. "But why? Why me?" You breath out.

"Osferth-" You start, standing up to face his seated self. "-You could have many lovely beautiful woman to love you the way you deserve, I'm sure of it, we've all seen how they fight for you." You insist.

His face turns into a frown and he stands up along with you, face inches apart from yours. "I don't want anyone else, you're the only lovely beautiful woman I want." He snapped.

You grow frustrated at his statement and turn to walk in circles, not meeting his gaze.

"But why? I am not beautiful or ladylike- and don't tell me I'm wrong, I hear things too- and I'm not kind enough to those around me as I should be, and I am, god, so terribly, terribly horrible in my moral compass Osferth.

- Why would you want to be with someone so miserable?", You point out with a humourless laugh, feeling so vulnerable and pathetic you could break in an instance.

You feel his hands grip your shoulders to look at him as he stops you from pacing around.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to convince you that you're all I think about, you are the most beautiful piece of art to me, and to have your heart, to be able to love you the way you deserve, is all I'll ever wish for in this lifetime."

You would've asked him if he had practiced that if you weren't so shaken by those words, so baffled.

"Don't be ridiculous Osferth, what- tell me, who you'd choose between me and Eadith, or me and that redhead from last night- or the lady Aethelflaed herself?" You hated how much self pity you were drowning in, all the insecurities you've worked so hard to push down, to look past from yourself.

"You. You, you and you." His response was quick and without hesitation. You wanted to kill him for that's or kiss him, you couldn't decide.

"I would choose you over anyone because there is no one else for me, can't you see?"

He was staring at you with stars in his eyes and his breath was hot on your face.

You couldn't remember when or how it happened, but all you knew was that one if you had leaned forwards and your lips became one with eachother's.

There was no regret in yourself, letting your fans wrap around his neck whilst he moves one arm to hold you by your waits and the other cupping your cheeks.

Your fingers move to tangle in his hair as you let your mouth open slightly for your tongues to dance together.

You pressed your faces harder if it was possible devouring the taste you've been forbidding yourself to take a bite from. His arms around your back tightens and soon you feel both his hands move down to the back of your thighs and you instinctively jump to wrap your legs around him.

He groans in the kiss, palms full holding squeezing your ass. You let a rare growl escape you as you feel yourself tighten around him.

Walking you back to the bed, you don't release your hold over him even when he lays you down on the bed.

Your hands roam wild at his body, grasping at his new tunic to be taken off. He gets the message immediately, pulling away to pull it over his head before going back to sucking lips with you.

You feel his own hands wandering around your body, exploring your untouched haven. He dips his hand inside the collar of your own shirt and rips it off easily, earning a shocked gasp from you.

"Didn't think you had that in you." You joked breathlessly. He gives a small shy smile as he pushes you to lay back down on the pillow. "You have no idea how many other things you've awakened inside of me."

His lips trail down your neck, biting and sucking at your sensitive spot while his hands have their fun squeezing and palming your breasts.

You let out a wild moan, throwing your head back, your nails, trying their best not to leave marks on his back.

"Fuck you're stunning." He swears, also rare occasion. You feel your cunt clench at his words an thrusts up your hips to meet his, receiving a strained groan from the man.

Not relenting in his torture on your tits, he releases one of them to move his hand between your legs, palming your drenched cunt between the thin barrier of your underwear.

"Osferth- please." You whined, rutting againts his hand like a dog in heat.

He only uses his hands to palm you harder, bringing you to tears as you search for friction. "That's it angel, fuck my hand." He groans out, entranced by the sight of you, glistening in sweat and fucking yourself on him in all your beautiful glory.

Both your arms are above you head now, gripping hard on the furs as you grind harder on his hand, clenching on nothing, feeling your orgasm nearing.

He rubs a finger on you clit furiously and you feel yourself explode on him, eyes blurry as you cried out his name repeatedly, a prayer answered.

Feeling yourself come down from your high, your body relaxes againts his bed and your head spins with euphoria. Osferth wipes his hand off before climbing over to lay next to you.

Your head finds comfort on his chest as his hands finds home around your body. It was dizzying, what just happened. And it was most probably the best hump you've ever had, not that you make it a habit to hump around.

You glace up to meet his eyes, already gazing down at you with a small smile accompanying them. "Does this mean you've forgiven me?", You jest and his smile widens as he leans forward and kisses your forehead. "Only if you promise to let me love you." He bargains.

You feel a grin making itself known and let out an unfamiliar giggle, "You're so sweet it's nauseating."

#osferth x reader #osferth the last kingdom #osferth fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #the last kingdom x reader #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor ���� Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin. 

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You. 

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it. 

You shiver. 

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #trigun au #svt au #seventeen au

[twit-ter-pa-ted]

Yes, ma'am.

pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x afab!Reader

warnings: nothing, just flirting!

overview: You're a sea merchant hoping to one day dine at Baratie. What you didn't account for was catching the sous chef's eye.

a/n: i wrote this during a power outage. also i may have gotten carried away with the plot so please bear with me on this

part two — final part

The Baratie was the name of a sea restaurant from the East Blue that you had heard uttered by multiple customers. Being a sea merchant, it wasn't difficult not to.

It hadn't been long since you first started in this line of business, since you reckoned you ought to learn how to defend yourself first before setting sail into a sea full of savage pirates.

And you were right. Multiple tried their luck to rob you of your merchandise, if not your Berry, and all failed.

As odd as it seemed, you had always dreamt of becoming a merchant at sea. Your father was the town's merchant, and that may have had some influence on your own dream. And now that you had achieved just that, a certain restaurant had slowly begun to pique your interest.

Despite roaming the sea for almost three years now, you had yet to run into this sea restaurant you had heard of countless times. The thought of Baratie was starting to irritate you, as was the unlikeliness that you still had yet to find it in the vast sea of the East Blue. You were beginning to think that, unlike for anyone else, you finding it would be like someone finally finding the One Piece.

"Hey, lady, I'm talkin' to ya!" The Z lister pirate's voice boomed. He had announced his name upon crashing through the doors – it might have been something like Guicha Rebel, but you couldn't be sure.

"Sorry. What were you saying?" You leaned on your forearms that rested on the counter in front of you. You swore to listen, but your eyes wandered towards the tent that extended from your cabin and into half of the main deck.

"This right here? Should only be for 500." He held up a sword that he had taken from one of the barrels.

Your eyes turned half-lidded with disinterest. "I know what my shit's worth, pirate."

"And I know this ain't worth 1,000."

"If you don't like it, feel free to leave."

"Hey! I have a 500,000 bounty, you better watch your mouth." You had begun laughing as he brought up his bounty. You pointed at the board behind you which held multiple wanted posters with bounties even twice as high as his.

"Please, I've been in these seas for three years. I've had worse."

You could see the way his eyes widened in fear and realization. There was no way you…

"You're not telling me that…" He had recognized at first glance that they were pirates whose bounties had been claimed. You didn't answer.

"Now, you either buy what you need and leave, or you leave with your bounty." That was always the choice you gave them and more often than not, they chose neither options.

He glared at you for a moment before letting the sword clatter onto the floor and turning around. What came next was something you just couldn't help.

"With a 500,000 bounty, you sure as hell are cheap," you remarked.

He groaned in frustration before he unsheathed his sword, turned around, and threw it your direction. You simply moved your head to avoid it, ignoring how it pierced through your bounty board and taking your pistol from below the counter.

Now, you specifically had your place designed so that you would be at an advantage during any battle despite how many people you were against. You knew how the bullets would ricochet to the blindspots you had behind the barrels when you hit a certain spot on the iron on the wall, specifically built into the wall for that reason.

You ducked behind the counter as the pirate took out his own pistol and aimed for your head. You leaned towards your left to shoot at an iron part of the wall. You heard a grunt come from him as his leg was shot. You straightened again and walked around the counter while the pirate clutched at his leg.

"What…What did you – " His breathing was ragged. He had been shot at before, but not like this.

You took a bullet out of your gun's cylinder, holding it between your index finger and thumb while he fell to his side in pain. You nonchalantly kneeled next to his head. "Burrow Bullets – doesn't exit the body once you shoot it, no matter the distance, which makes it hurt so much worse when you're shot at a short distance because it just burrows."

You grinned at your selfmade product with pride before sliding it back into the cylinder. "Costs 5,000 per pack. Not that you'd be able to buy 'em from me. But I do appreciate doing business with you." It was the last thing he heard from you before the butt of your gun met with his temple.

Predictably, he had a copy of his wanted poster in his pocket. Guicha Reuben. "Huh."

You looked between the unconscious man and the poster. "Rebel sounds better," you said before standing and pinning his poster to your board, pulling his sword out. You inspected it before placing it in the barrel with swords of the price of 500.

* * * * * *

It was your day off. You rarely took day offs, but you felt you had to after getting in a bar fight an island ago. You laid in a hammock that hung beside the main mast with your father's jacket over your face to shield it from the sun.

You froze as you heard something more than the sound of the ocean and the breeze, taking the jacket off your face and standing up.

You thought it was another pirate ship before you looked ahead. Your eyes widened.

Before you could react, you heard the transponder snail sound out in your cabin. You ran to grab it, taking the receiver.

"Yeah?"

The familiar voice of Garp sounded from the snail as he called your name. The Vice Admiral had sent you the snail as you were almost considered a regular at their bases. "How have you been, eh?"

"Get to the point, Garp." He simply chuckled at your straightforwardness.

"There're new pirates in our turf, broker." Garp was your father's old friend. He had been calling you broker for as long as you could remember. You stopped correcting him long ago. "A bugger with a straw hat, a redhead, a long-nose, and Roronoa Zoro."

You couldn't help but raise your brows in surprise. The Roronoa Zoro? Still, you replied nonchalantly – "I'm not a pirate hunter."

You could practically hear him shrug. "I'm just warning you in case you run into one of them."

It was rare for Garp to give you warnings. The last he had given was of Don Krieg, but now he warned you of nameless pirates? "And what makes this band of pirates different from the others?"

It was silent on the other end for a while.

"They defeated Axe-Hand Morgan and escaped his marine base."

* * * * * *

Once the exchange ended between you and Garp, you quickly ran outside and redirected the ship in a panic, as it had started to drift away from the sea restaurant in the distance.

You docked onto its small harbor and entered, greeted by a fishman who questioned you regarding reservations. You simply slipped him a few Berries and got yourself a table.

You had only entered the dining area when a fight ensued, only to be quickly resolved by a blonde waiter who kicked the fighting pair down.

"Great fighter," you heard someone from another booth mutter. You couldn't disagree as you watched the waiter approach a booth with a small bowl of complimentary bread.

You started looking over the menu when you heard someone turn the chair parallel from you in its place, their chest against the back side of the chair as they sat.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing at a shitty restaurant like this?"

Your brows raised in surprise as you dropped the menu. It was the waiter from earlier, a flirty grin now plastered on his lips.

"I thought this was one of the finest restaurants in East Blue?" You teased which caused him to let out a sultry chuckle.

"Oh, darling, it's only one of the finest because I'm here."

"Well…" You trailed off, silently asking for his name as you did.

"Sanji."

You recognized the name. "Sanji the sous chef."

"So you know me?" You nodded. He seemed surprised you did.

"I've heard of Baratie's sous chef. I just didn't know he was a part-time waiter," he remarked.

"Nothing but charity work, really," he retorted smoothly, as if he hadn't been kicked out of the line. "What would the beautiful madam like to have?"

You shrugged, looking at the menu again before dropping it onto the table. "None of these really interest me."

"Naturally, you're simply above anything being served here," he remarked in a heartbeat. He was completely wrapped around your finger despite the fact that he was flirting with a redhead a few tables away just moments ago.

"Think you could whip up something for me, sous chef?"

He nodded, not missing the way you had looked him up and down. "Anything, darling."

You smirked as if to challenge. "I'll leave it up to you. I'm not necessarily picky."

"And what drink would you like with that, my love?" His smile grew wider as he thought of the countless dishes he could possibly make for you, even with the limitations of the supplies in the pantry.

"I would love a strawberry milkshake."

"Coming right up." He began to stand up. You decided to test the waters to see the extent of what he would be willing to do for you despite only meeting you.

"I'm not finished." You started talking again before he could offer an alluring apology. "I want a thin coat of strawberry syrup in the glass, no seeds, whipped cream that's not too whipped, and a strawberry to top it off. I don't want it sour, I want it sweet."

Something about you was different – Sanji could tell. Maybe it was the way you showed him interest while keeping your composure, or maybe it was the way your eyes lit up at his obedience – how you seemed to get off on it. Or maybe it was just you.

He flashed another smile as he stood from his seat. "Yes, ma'am."

a/n: i may or may not already have a part two idea in mind

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #opla sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji #sanji x reader

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

you do historical au right? So how about a Villainess who actually is a regresser but she saw too much hardships in her previous life that this time she's all set on herself (you can add revenge or not if you don't want). A tyrant disguised saw her real self which is extremely kind to general public (she built orphanage, hospital and schools for her people) (she's the heir but got scammed in previous life, so she used all that knowledge to get even more riches with beneficial businesses so she's practically richest aristocrat). She's evil and rude on the looks (because she hates limelight and does all good will anonymously). So yeah. The tyrant is real deal evil and he's obsessed with our Villainess now. Oh dear. What a plight..

Sorry for the request being all over the place, i didn't know how to put it better :(

Yandere! Villain x Regressor! AFAB! Villainess! Reader

Anon, you know how to capture my attention. And the request is comprehensive, don't worry!

Another historical AU for the roster. This time, rather than starting off with the villain, let's start of with the MC/you! (Because most of the time it doesn't really focus on the ML now, does it? Hope you don't mind.)

Yandere! Villain name: Eros

You don't remember how you got here, except for dying by a stupid woman who can't aim for jack shit.

You just got home from a grueling day's work. Always getting ahead of yourself and working yourself to the bone just to please your boss who's a major asshat, and loves when his employees curry favors with him.

It's a dog eats dog world, so you curried favors with him.

You're his favorite employee. Always giving you snacks and an extra day for your vacations. But that meant working harder than what's needed. Overtime, going home late, it drained you. But hey, it's worth it.

Yet, this wouldn't happen, and you would still be living like a young princess if it weren't for the damn mistress your fiance, the crown prince, has.

Elysia, a daughter of the baron, spent the night with the crown prince, Yuno. Earning the affection of the prince since...

Actually, you don't remember how Yuno became infatuated with Elysia.

Is the fuck really that good that Yuno neglected his fiancee?

And you, the daughter of the second Ducal household (who's not related to the royal family, of course) was blinded by rage and betrayal that you made Elysia's life a living hell.

Erm, why not the crown prince's too, then?

Remembering your past life made your head hurt. From the cliche love story down to the way you were treated made you scream to the oblivion.

After all, after Yuno figured out how you treated Elysia, he made your family kick you out. Powerless against the royal family, they had no choice but to exile you.

You got employed by your employer by then, an eccentric man who spoke of other worlds called 'Earth' and is bringing 'modern day capitalism' here. Whatever that means. But hey, he developed these things called 'cellphones' that made him skyrocket with money.

He's a weirdo, but at least he's easy to please.

But the bitch Elysia "accidentally" blasted light magic to your way, killing you instead of an assassin. Great.

But, then, you're only the minor villainess. The main villain was someone named Eros. The other Ducal household and your father's rival.

As young as 16, he already conquered the ducal household he's in and then, 6 years later, he had wealth rivalring that of the royal family's. Heck, maybe even surpassing it.

"Hello? Where's the checks and balances of this world?" That's what you usually ask yourself.

You never saw him outright, since he's always been so busy. But you clearly remembered when you're in and out of a coma back then after you got struck with the magic, a war broke out due to him.

Fortunately, you regressed into a baby still, so you could avoid being engaged to Yuno, and being involved with Elysia.

Growing up again with your mature mind was weird. Unlike last life, you weren't a brat, but a proper, cold, and an unattainable standard of what a noble woman should be. Well, if you exclude the coldness and the bitchy attitude sometimes.

In all honesty, your family loved you dearly. A clear contrast from your last life. You're a role model, perfect in every way. Beautiful, smart, talented, and shows clear interest in politics and business.

The previous life, you were only a mouth to feed with a pretty face and a political pawn to integrate yourself into the royal family.

And as usual, you got engaged to the crown prince, much to your dismay.

Yuno was easy to read. He doesn't like clingy women, and he likes the chase. He's dumb, and only knows how to spend money.

"Ah, he's worthless."

What did you saw in him in the previous life, really?

Since you were unattainable to Yuno, he became attached to you. Wanting to conquer you.

And you always returned his advances with a flick of your fan and covering your face with a glare with your sharp eyes.

You're the thorned Rose of the Kingdom. Beautiful, yet prickly. It brought you to the limelight, but also, not. Due to you being closed off, news of you rarely get out.

So in the free time you had, you always disguised yourself with your dark magic and filled up your own coffers with the help of your knowledge of business last life (from your employer.)

You built hospitals, made schooling accessible... You were basically the saintess rather than Elysia.

Oh, did I mention that Elysia, with light magic, was the saintess, and you with dark magic was the prophesied Villainess? It's complicated.

But right now, with Elysia failing to bed Yuno in his crown prince coronation, due to him being only attached to you, you were free to do what you want while thinking of your next plan.

What you didn't know is that a certain pair of crystal blue eyes followed you.

You walked along the street of the outskirts of the Kingdom, inspecting the newly built school.

You just got out of the ducal household and immediately went here after being confronted by Elysia once more, who "accidentally" stumbled into the chateau and into you and Yuno. Can she get more obvious, really?

You never used your dark magic here in the outskirts since you felt safe in the people's arms. They never judged you, nor used you for your money. They're just glad more and more accessible facilities are being erected by the young lady.

While walking around, you got into the councilor's office who's busy with enrolling the children. He's the chief of the town, and is one of the few people who graduated fully back in the capital.

He graciously accepted the position of being the councilor after you approached him, since you genuinely wanted to help the outskirts.

You saw children happily playing around while the parents lined up, excitedly talking to one another.

When they saw you, they immediately curtsied and said hi.

"My lady! Hello!"

G-greetings my lady..."

"Oh my stars! It's the lady!"

"Look over here, my lady!"

You giggled and decided to mingle with them more, talking about mundane things in life and what other facilities can you put here.

"Okay, so a shopping center, huh? Okay, that's noted. Also, I think a gymnasium would work well also, so that there will be a place where all of you can have meetings, and also have children play."

They all excitedly nodded and bid you goodbye as you went out.

You felt like yourself here in the outskirts.

Maybe you can convince your father to give you this part of the territory, and your brother can manage the main household?

Your thoughts were interrupted by children pulling your skirt to play, cheekily grinning and playfully pushing a ball up to your arms. You grinned and chased them around, roaring loudly like a monster and pretending like you're a dragon.

The giggles and screams of delight of the children filled the lively streets, along the chatter of the townspeople.

"Sir? Are you okay? What are you looking at?"

"..."

Eros' eyes widened, then softened as he saw you, chasing the children around, playing with them and not minding the dirt clinging to your outfit.

He gulped, suddenly feeling his heartrate pick up as he cleared his throat. Red flushed his cheeks, as foreign yet also the familiar feeling of infatuation filled his heart.

The noise that surrounded him faded into the background, and somehow, everything seems so bright and colorful. All he could see is you, and you, and you...

You...

You...

Beautiful, thorned you.

Eros.

The name itself sends shiver down the spine of people.

Of fear? Love? Or arousal?

He's a man of few words, only letting his actions talk to other people.

Such an otherwordly beauty like him garnered unwanted attention since he was a child.

Other than being extremely handsome, he's also very talented with politics and business, also with physical activities like horse riding and hunting.

Due to this, his mother developed a twisted inferiority complex, and also an almost incestious relationship with him.

She always hurled words that hurt his soul and emotions.

Then she'll hug him while saying sorry.

This cycle would continue on and on until he's 16.

It was supposed to be a joyous day, not until his mother forced himself on him.

Disgust, fear, and rage filled his body that time, and all he remembered is awakening his dark magic and consuming his mother.

After that, he was knocked out cold.

When he woke up, he remembered his past life on Earth.

He's a business man of such a high position, CEO.

He clawed out of his way from poverty. Stealing, investing, selling, he did everything just to get out of the clutches of being a plebian.

And, when he struck gold when his stationery business thrived, his genius made it possible for him to talk to investors and convinced them to invest in his work.

God, he's rich.

And once he reached the age of 24, he's a rich man.

Then he died due to being assassinated by his rival.

With now his previous life in his roster, he became a formidable business man. Eccentric even.

By some weird cheat, he developed cellphones.

Something so revolutionary was first met with skepticism, but it boomed in popularity when his friend, the crown prince Yuno, bought and used it.

it was weird, really. Yuno approached him to employ his ex fiancee in his company and take care of her.

Eros, who didn't mind, employed you.

Sweet, lovable you.

It was funny seeing you struggle to curry favor with him. Not used being the one who had to try to get close with him. The way you struggled to hide a frown when he mentioned over time, the way you hide your disdain when he talks about extra work...

God, you're so cute.

He spoiled you in the best he could do. Extra vacation days, snacks, all he could do without being too obvious.

Then you died.

You... Died.

By the hands of his friend, well, ex-friend's mistress.

Elysia.

That damn bitch doesn't know her place.

Then and there, his eccentricity died down, and all he knows is revenge back then.

You were in and out of coma, and seeing you swim between life and death made his heart roar out in pain.

He felt so helpless seeing you pale and vegetative, something that wasn't you.

So, with a soft promise leaving his lips, he waged war in your honor.

He fought blood, sweat, and tears in your name.

All he could think is you.

All he could see is you.

And as he ignored Yuno's plea, he beheaded Elysia.

The damn bitch raised the notion that dark magic users are evil, despite dark magic being only an another element.

She turned the tides on you.

Why should she live?

Yuno also. He betrayed you.

Once the royal family was dead, he brought your comatose body to the throne, and killed himself with you at the throne.

He made you ingest poison, something that doesn't cause pain to your already pained body.

Meanwhile, he killed himself by striking a sword down to his chest, and to his heart. The very same heart that loved you dearly.

Then he woke up,

a child again.

Back in time.

Getting away from the busy bustle of the ball, you got out to the garden and sighed. Letting the cold air bite into your skin.

Dread filled your heart as you realized once more that Elysia was nowhere to be found, and so did Yuno.

Your nerves got to you and you left the scene, overthinking the worse of the worst.

Did Elysia actually bed Yuno successfully?

Albeit just a bit late?

You covered your mouth, shaking dreadfully. The pain of your last life was getting to you once more. Trauma trembling you to the core.

"My Lady? Are you okay?"

A deep voice broke you out of your reverie. Something so silky, smooth, and familiar.

You turned around, your heart pounding as you saw your employer, Eros. He's dressed in noble clothes, gold, black, and blue.

He looks more uptight and strict this time around. What happened? Why does he look like that?

You never connected the dots, since you thought your employer and Eros were two different people.

But this?

Your heart trembled.

"G-greetings, your lordship." You curtsied, fighting back a frown just like how you did with him last life.

"You're still the same as ever."

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing." Eros waved his hand.

This life, Eros was more brutal than the previous life. He exposed his mother, a pedophile who touched him and stole money from the household, letting her get beheaded by a rusty axe in the middle of the colosseum. After that, he joined the interkingdom war, and won it much earlier than before.

He's basically a warlord. A tyrant to his territory who imposed such strict rules that you doubted yourself if this was the same Eros you knew.

You both silently stood in front of each other before he took off his coat and gently draped it on your shoulders.

"It's cold out here, my lady." He whispered. His long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked.

He inhaled your scent, his lips trembling.

He missed you so much.

His precious rose.

He gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing it softly and lingering there, with his eyes screaming obsession.

His grip was strong yet also loving.

It made you blush.

"My Lady, if my friend, Yuno, hurt you, approach me."

Your eyes widened.

"Approach you?"

Eros smiled. His handsome face blinding you momentarily.

"Yes, i'll help you take revenge."

Eros eyes swiftly looked at the balcony up above.

"Like this."

Eros swiftly dipped you and kissed your lips.

God, you tasted so divine upon his lips.

His tongue delved into your mouth, sweeping and tangling with your much more timid ones. He cupped your cheeks, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

His eyes were glaring at Yuno back at the balcony, who was naked on their bottom half with Elysia, shielding you from the scene.

Yuno's eyes widened, and he hastily dressed up, his eyes boring into Eros', and you.

This life, he'll protect you from pain.

He'll protect you from Yuno and Elysia.

He'll burn down the ground for you.

Just say the word.

---------

Hmm, twist upon twists. I love it. HEHEHEHE

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

[412foryou]

The last one.

“bless your heart, make you part of my life forever. and always.”

₊˚ pairing– sunwoo x gn!reader

₊˚ genre– hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers.

₊˚ overview– sunwoo comforts you after an unpleasant event. you go for a drive in his car, in the sunset. a confession at the beach. kissing.

₊˚ word count– 3k

₊˚ warnings– depictions of feelings of anxiety/social anxiety and loneliness; self-conscious, depressive thoughts.

₊˚ notes– I'm finally giving this a try! I'm super excited to write on here!! the beautiful pictures sunwoo posted on ig made me think of the idea for this fic. I got inspired to write it while I was feeling really down myself, and even though it's pretty specific, I felt like I could share it here, in hopes that this might comfort anyone else who needs it. it took me a week to finish this, but I enjoyed every moment of it. note that this is my first fic in a while, so please be kind. I'd love to hear what you think about it!! and btw! stuff in italics is for the reader's thoughts.

like & reblog if you enjoy please <3

♪₊˚ song— tejano blue by cigarettes after s*x.

it's so loud.

you can hear the noisy chatter of the people in your group, bantering and laughing out loud.

what are they laughing so much about? are they laughing about.. about me?

you sink in your seat, hands in pockets, body slumping even more than before, aiming to merge with the chair. your eyebrows set low, unknowingly glaring at the group.

"hey, you okay?" one of them calls out, making you perk up, but you know it isn't a genuine question, so you lower your eyes, nodding briefly.

a scoff. "it's no use talking to them, they're not gonna answer you." another voice retorts, clearly tipsy. you try to pay it no mind.

it was fine before, they didn't care much. why now?

but before you can come up with an answer to your own question, your thoughts are interrupted with laughter, even louder this time.

they're laughing at me.

the discomfort that gradually began setting in since you first stepped into the building, was about to overflow. so you go to stand up and leave, while your mind imagines the remarks they could be throwing at you.

"leaving already? so boring."

"they're so weird"

"wow, that's one scary kid."

"not worth our time."

"yeah, you better leave."

real or not, it didn't make much of a difference for you. you still cared, it still bothered you, no matter how miserable that might sound. the non-spoken words sharp and piercing, biting at your skin. you brushed both of your arms up and down roughly to rid your mind of the thoughts.

it burns.

so much for trying to socialize.

you awkwardly squeeze through people crowded in groups outside, keeping your eyes on the ground, paying no mind to where you're headed.

you just need to get away from there, as far as possible, and quickly. you don't even check your surroundings, as your legs seem to be taking charge right now, shaking but not able to stop moving ahead.

I'm so embarrassing. I'm just so...

you're continuously reminded of what happened at the bar, the image seemingly stuck in your brain. the mocking laughter replaying over and over, taunting you, leaving no choice but to think about it.

why can't I just do it the way they can, what is wrong with me?

they all seem to like it.

why doesn't it come naturally to me too?

why do I have to force myself?

you walk with your head down, trying to hold in your tears. you knew this wouldn't end well, you didn't expect anything from it, and yet,

I'm pathetic. I'm disgusting. and I'm miserable.

I knew this wasn't a good idea, why did I even..

they all probably hate me now. the way I am.

I feel so sorry for myself-

there's a halt in you thoughts, as in your steps. you notice you've bumped shoulders with someone.

wait- what am I doing, where am I?

you frantically take a look around, only to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, yet again, the anxiety sets in. you have no way of telling where you are.

the sun will set soon, too. shit-

you walk around in hopes to find a way to get back to your place, maybe think of something. but, you remember-

sunwoo has my location! yes. he'll help.

you mentally thank yourself for thinking of that, taking your phone out to text your friend.

"changed my mind, come get me."

the reply is almost instantaneous, as it always is whenever it's sunwoo you're texting.

"be there in 10. stay where you are."

a sigh of relief escapes through your lips, your shoulders feeling lighter, knowing you'll be on your way soon. but you still need to-

I have to go back to that place.

reluctantly making your way back to the bar, you linger nearby, just so sunwoo can find you, but not close enough to be spotted by anyone else. pulling your hood up, you put your hands in your pockets, shifting back and forth, unable to stay still.

it's fine. it's alright now. it's over. he'll be here soon. I'm okay..

letting a big puff of air out, you try to steady your stance, your breath shaky. you lean your elbows on the railing in front of some shop, as the light from inside gives you shelter from the darkness of the street.

I wish I didn't have to be like this.

you tuck your head into your arms.

this always happens, I don't know why I thought this time would be different.

I should've never come.

I'm shameful.

I'm ashamed!

regardless of your efforts to hold back, you still feel a single stubborn tear touch your skin, staining your sleeves. a sniffle. you can't be crying like this outside,

but I've already embarrassed myself anyway.

another involuntary sniffle, and a tear on the other side of your face. it's gotten colder. a warm hand on your shoulder.

frightened, your head springs up, your eyes frantically searching for the person the hand belongs to. your body slackens in his grip. thank god. the hand on your shoulder moves to stroke your back.

"I'm here." a gentle smile.

you feel the tear streaks drying on the sides of your face in the light breeze as you look back at sunwoo. you're so drained that you feel as though you've lost the ability to form words, so you can only hope your eyes are able to relay your thoughts to him.

I'm exhausted.

sunwoo's gaze shifts between your eyes trying to gauge anything that hints at your mood. his other hand comes up to wipe your cheekbone. and it stays there, holding the side of your face.

a quiet gasp. "you're freezing! I should've been quicker. I'm sorry." he retracts his hand on your cheek. the one still on your back guides you in a certain direction, your body completely relaxed and yielding in his hold. you're safe now, sunwoo knows what to do. you know to trust him.

before you know it you feel warm again. even though the roof of sunwoo's cabriolet is folded, even though it's even colder now, even though the breeze blows rougher. the warmth seems to be spreading from within, a feeling, your heartbeat slow and steady. sunwoo buckles your seatbelt for you and closes the door.

don't go.

he rounds the vehicle to get in his seat on the other side. you knew he wouldn't leave, but

still..

"I'll pull the roof back up in a minute." he has taken off his jacket and it's now spread over your lap. "I didn't know it'd get this cold, should've thought to fix it before coming to get you." he halts his movements when he feels your hand on his arm.

I want to feel the breeze.

"you want me to leave it?" a mild nod from you, eyes downturned. he gazes back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "okay... but put the jacket on properly, the breeze is strong."

when you don't make a move to comply as he instructed, he leans over and carefully adjusts the jacket so that it covers more of you, giving you a sliver of a smile.

soon enough the blow of the wind picks up as sunwoo starts driving. you lean your head back, resting it on the headrest. the bitter gusts of wind crash into your face, turning it red, keeping you awake. you can feel the frigid air burning your skin, soothing your body. your eyelids drop to focus on the feeling as you take in a deep breath.

that feels nice.

I can breathe again.

you open your eyes and look out the window. the city lights are harsh and bright, dazzling you, making you squint, your view of them softening.

"are you cold?" asks sunwoo in a low voice. yes. but it feels good. slowly tilting your head, you face him, beyond him a glimpse of the beach.

your gaze fixes on sunwoo, eyes listless. only now taking notice of his appearance. laid back in the seat, his arm rests on the door, the other one gripping the wheel. arms bare, your eyes linger. soon enough they shift to look at his dark hair flying around with the wind. thick eyebrows set firm in concentration. eyes half lidded, but alert. you can still see the restlessness in them. he keeps stealing sideway glances at you, eager to grasp your thoughts. you pay it no mind, because..

he's so beautiful.

and most of all, his skin is glowing golden even in the dark, now illuminated scarlet as you stop at a red light. he turns his head toward you "hmm?"

ah,

you forgot he'd asked a question. that snaps you out of your dazed state effectively. blinking rapidly to rid your eyes of the haze.

shit, I got distracted.

clearing your throat, your voice raspy, "sorry. no, I'm not cold." you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie. you hear him sigh softly. he's facing ahead again, the light green. "you.. okay?" you can hear the concern in his voice and your heart swells.

"yeah, I'm good." averting your eyes from his face, feeling sheepish.

your response doesn't seem to ease his worry, "you can talk to me, you know I don't mind. I'll listen." his words so gentle, you barely hear them.

he's so kind to me.

your eyes shift to your lap. sunwoo's jacket has slid down, and you can see your fingers picking at the skin on your hands.

why... does he treat me like this?

when other people seem to have given up on me completely?

he's too kind.

"I..." you try to form an intelligible sentence. an exhale- "I'm alright. I'm just fine.. if you're with me." you try not to look over at him. "everything sort of.. feels okay when you're here." you breathe deep, in and out. voice trembling. "I just want you to know that.. I'm thankful- for everything you do for me. even though, I don't get why you do this... I know I can be... difficult. to understand, and to talk to most of the time. I guess I'm grateful that you try. and that you've kept me with you despite.. that, I don't give anything in return. and I'm sorry." you trail off, tears welling in your eyes. "anyway, just thank you." you finish with a sniffle.

sunwoo is quiet. you're too afraid to meet eyes with him, so you keep your head down.

why isn't he saying anything?

did I make him uncomfortable?

you wipe your nose with a sleeve. another awkward sniff.

should've just stayed quiet. it wasn't even that serious..

I'm sorry for being like this.

however, before your mind can make your grey thoughts into a whirlpool and suck you in, you see colors seep into the darkness. you look up in surprise and find the source. the now setting sun seems to be casting the purple-pink light on the waves just before you.

"it has never once felt like that to me." you turn your head, the beams reaching his face too, making you stare. he's looking ahead.

"our.. friendship. I have never thought of it as a chore, a challenge- maybe. because we're so different from each other, there's a lot to consider. but.." he shakes his head, lowering it, "oh my god- I always thought of this-" he gestures between the two of you. "as something precious, something I needed to protect. if anything, it felt like it was you keeping me close." he brings his head back up but still doesn't glance your way.

...what?

eyebrows furrowed in deep confusion you question, "you.. but, why? there's nothing I have to offer, I mean.." he brings his head back up, concern evident in the way he looks at you. you avoid his eyes, bashful. "you're.. you're so ordinary. you know.. you can befriend anyone, do anything you want.. you're likable, and I don't know.. I'm- I'm just me. and I can barely take being alive, at least..." you sigh shakily, it's so hard to talk about this. "but that was before, now I don't think it's all that bad. and it's all because you came into my life." you didn't even notice you'd started to cry, until you felt sunwoo's thumb on your face, wiping the tears away. you let him, eyes glazed over.

he makes this even more difficult than it already is.

he retracts his hand. you shift your eyes once more. "you know, whenever I think of myself, I'm always out of place. nothing comes naturally to me, like it does with others, and it- it's so frustrating... it's lonely. and it makes me hate myself. but.. weirdly enough, all it took for me to feel at least a little bit normal, was one person who understood me. who listened to me. you're my link to the rest of the world, the only thing that keeps my feet on the ground. I- I really don't know where I would be right now, if you weren't by my side." you feel more silent tears escape.

my whole existence is disgraceful.

but I don't regret this, he has to know how much he means to me.

"I know it's selfish as well, that I wish for you to stay here forever. but.. truly, you're the sole good thing in my life." you've never felt so exposed and vulnerable before, putting your heart on display, right in front of sunwoo.

"it isn't, selfish- I mean." he catches you off guard, so you turn to look. you notice colors dimming on his face, the sunset imminent. he's got a warm expression on his face, one full of tenderness. "well if it is, then I must be selfish too. because I can never imagine my life without you in it either." he leans over, resting his elbow on the armrest in-between your seats. "it honestly breaks my heart that you think that way about yourself, I wish I could take those feelings away from you.." he reaches over with his other hand and takes your hood off. "I don't know how much I'll be able to help, but I can promise that I'll always try to. I'll be here, whenever you need me." his gaze shifts to the top of your head briefly, patting your hair into place. "and I need you with me, just as much. so, don't ever think like that, okay?"

you should've known better than to doubt sunwoo's feelings. he's the one that gets you, even if no words are exchanged. of course, he'd understand. he always has. but.. it's hard to focus on that, when he's just

he's so close.

your heartbeat picks up, alerting you of the proximity between your faces. you can feel the heat of sunwoo's breath on your ice cold face, as you try to keep your own even. try to keep your mind clear, aware.

oh god...

he eyes your lips for a moment, and you can hear it in his slightly quickened breaths-

he feels it too.

your eyes lock, and you feel like you're going insane. with the way he's looking at you, gaze filled with longing. with the way his hand's still resting in your hair. with the way your heart just can't seem to calm. with the way your faces have frozen into place, neither moving an inch to break the distance. it all makes you want to..

I desperately want to kiss him.

"I want to kiss you." you're not even sure who asked the question, because it was whispered, and because you're too tired to make sense of anything. "...can I?" oh, it was him, after all. his voice so soft, but breathy- rushed with desire.

please.

instead of answering, you pull him in by the back of his head, rushing to connect your lips. your eagerness visible in the intensity of the kiss. this stuns sunwoo for a brief second, but he meets your lips and steadies the kiss, slowing you down.

..finally.

he holds you by the jaw. your lips moving in sync, almost naturally. you pull at his hair. you can feel him smiling into the kiss.

he's driving me crazy.

the kiss can't last forever, you have to pull away to take a breath. you can feel the dissatisfaction in the way sunwoo whines lowly. it pleases you, to know he yearns for you the same way you do, for him.

I can't believe we just kissed.

your faces remain close still, seemingly unable to pull apart, now that you've connected. the sound of your heavy breaths and the waves crashing, the only thing to be heard. you wait for each other to regain oxygen back in your lungs. sunwoo's cheeks are flushed cherry, but you're sure yours are worse.

I can't believe I just kissed sunwoo.

he holds your cheek in his palm now, thumb stroking the blush on it, gaze filled with adoration.

is this really happening?

sunwoo's half lidded eyes are relentless in raking over your face, noticing every detail, staring. but it isn't uncomfortable, you don't feel self-conscious. you feel seen.

"you're beautiful." he confesses with care.

he likes me.

he finds me beautiful.

his bold words don't make you question their genuineness. you feel confident in the way you look from his point of view, you know you're beautiful, because he sees it.

tightening your grip on his hair, pulling a strand, you look at his swollen mouth "you have no idea, how long I've waited for this." he ducks his head, smiling shyly. ...he's so.. cute.

bringing both of your hands together, you cup his flushed face.

pretty.

you take a moment to study him. he lets you. after a few moments of silence, he whispers "me too. I've longed for you.. without even realizing." he's a bit hesitant in his words, avoiding your gaze. you didn't know shy sunwoo would come as a punch to your heart, making your affection for him grow.

so adorable.

smiling softly, you lean in to taste his lips once more. this time you make sure to go slow and sunwoo melts into the kiss. he moves his lips according to your pace, kissing you back tenderly. you feel content in his presence, his lips touching yours, comfortable and familiar.

I feel so... warm.

you gently lift your lips from his, but stay near, foreheads joined together. you can feel the breeze biting. your mind screams at you, begging, to connect your mouth back with his again. sunwoo's low breaths grazing your lips not helping the case.

I miss his touch.

the side of his mouth upturned, as if reading your mind, sunwoo briefly brushes your lips with his plump ones.

I need more.

but brief isn't enough. you yearn for him, his touch in the way that wouldn't be sated with a momentary peck. a noise of frustration leaves your lips, and he catches on, finding your impatience cute.

a chuckle. his lips back on yours.

perfect.

#the boyz #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo fluff #the boyz fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz reactions #the boyz x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff #the boyz fluff #sunwoo fic #412foryou #412foryou_fics

[toriwakes]

Snowball [Spencer Reid x Reader]

summary: spencer just cant wait another day to see you

content warnings: fluff, that’s it

a/n: BOO!!!!! i’m back :) it’s been so long so PLEASE excuse the rusty writing. i hope u all enjoy and as always, please let me know if u have any requests!

you’ve been sick for 7 days.

7. damned. days.

spencer was so impatient when it came to you. he knew one week meant you should be in recovery and returning back to him any day now but he physically just couldn’t wait anymore. so, he did the only logical thing there was to do.

he put his coat on, and got ready to walk in the snow to your apartment.

he picked up your favorite treats on the way there, and a hot pad for himself. he could feel his throat drying and the tip of his nose freezing, but he’d know his efforts were worth it when he got to see you again.

it was late at night. you went to bed early when you were healthy, he could only assume you went to sleep earlier when you were sick. he was pushing 10 o’clock now, but he had just the idea to ensure your consciousness.

he made it to your apartment- sans frostbite. your light was on, but spencer new sometimes you’d get so tired you wouldn’t shut them off before sleeping. he smiled at the thought. you curled up in bed, peacefully. he really, really wanted to see you. which is why he believes his next actions are justified.

he picked up a handful of snow from the ground, took about 2 minutes to calculate his aim, and threw the snowball with all his might to your window. he smiled when his shot was precise and the snowball flew right in.

wait.

spencer’s (frigid) hands flung to his mouth to muffle his gasp. the back of gifts fell softly to the ground with the snow breaking it’s fall.

he did not just do that.

your pajama-clad body ran to the windowsill, already muttering curse words when your eyes landed on spencer. “spence?!” you shouted. he was absolutely speechless. he stood there, feeling frozen. out of fear and due to the weather. “what the hell?” you said through a chuckle, running to put a coat on before shuffling down the stairs to see him. he’d hardly moved from his spot when you got down there, still shocked from the situation. you crossed your arms, urging his explanation. and he did give you one.

“i really wanted to see you. and i walked here from my apartment-“ “you walked?” you interjected, but spencer kept rambling. “so i picked up some of those candies and that tea you really like and i thought you were asleep and i wanted to avoid waking you up by knocking because i know that scares you so i threw a snowball because i also thought it’d be kind of romantic-“ “spencer.” he stopped rambling and looked at you. “yes?” “i. am not. mad.” “you’re not?” you put both of your hands on either side of his head. “of course i’m not mad. i will be mad if we stay out here any longer because i am freezing, though.” he smiled and took your hand in his, running inside the complex with you.

you got him a change of warm clothes that he’d left at your place some time ago. you got him in bed as quickly as you could, engulfing him in the sheets and clinging onto him like a koala. you guys were sharing some of the candy he bought and talking about his work and your studying. you could never string together the right words to express how much you loved him.

spencer looked down at you while his body regained warmth in time with his heart. this really was all worth it. seeing you, holding you, hearing your laugh.

you were starting to get tired when spencer spoke again.

“hey (y/n)?”

“yes?”

“did you close that window?” you answered by hopping out of bed and scurrying to the living room, from which you could hear spencer laughing from bed.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid funny #ssa spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

The Hercules to my Meg ♤

Jason Todd x reader

A/N: How's it going? This is my first piece for Jason! I hope I did him justice lmao I love Jason and the Hercules movie, so I had to write something about this!

Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: mentions of murder, spoilers for Hercules I guess???, disgustingly sweet

Word count: 1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

❤️••••••••••••••••••⚱️••••••••••••••••••❤️

❤️•••••••••••••••••••⚱️•••••••••••••••••❤️

"Are you ready, babe?" Jason's voice cut through his apartment. It was a Friday night, and you had decided against going out with his siblings. Instead, you wanted to have a cozy movie night! And because it's you and Jason, movie nights always had a theme. Today's theme was greek mythology. Maybe a little complicated for a movie night, but you two made due. The rules were simple: both of you picked a movie according to the theme and decided via rock, paper, scissors.

The winner got their movie played and the softer blanket. The choices today were Hercules and Percy Jackson: the lighting thief. You'd obviously picked out Hercules. As action-filled and enjoyable as Percy Jackson was, there was no beating the colorful and entertainingly inaccurate world that was Hercules.

"I can't believe you've never watched Hercules. It's my favorite Disney movie!" You exclaimed, plopping down next to your lover on the couch. Bowl of snacks in hand, you swung your legs over his lap  and pulled the blanket around you. Jason chuckled. "Well, I'm watching it now, aren't I? I'm fulfilling my 'boyfriend of the year' duties, you know?" He joked, a grin on his face. You playfully rolled your eyes.

"First of all, you're just saying that because you lost rock, paper, scissors, again and second of all, you'll always be boyfriend of the year, no matter what." you grinned, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. Jason hummed in satisfaction. "You flatter me, baby." He responded, a teasing tone to his voice. "What can I say, I aim to please." You popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

Jason gently caressed your thigh under the blanket. He did that quiet often, absent mindedly tracing patterns on your skin. It grounded him, that he knew that you were right here with him. You pressed play and excitedly watched the TV. Continuing to enjoy your snack, you slightly moved your foot along with the music. It wasn't your fault that the muses belted out incredible bangers.

A smile tugged on Jason's lips. He turned his head and looked at you; eyes wide with joy, your soft lips pulled into a beautiful smile. It tugged at his heart strings, to see you so happy over such a simple thing. He admired that about you. No matter the circumstance, you always found something fun in it. Something you enjoyed. He faced the screen again and watched the movie. He wanted to know if the hype you gave it was worth it.

You laughed, giggled and occasionally ranted about some of the many inaccuracies. At some point, you'd changed your position and were now cuddled up to Jason's side, feeding him popcorn. He seemed to enjoy the movie as well, letting out those absolutely beautiful laughs of his. He was very invested too; he threatened to trash the TV if Meg didn't get her soul back. You had to hold him back with your entire body weight and then trapped him in the blanket. The TV was safe.

The credits rolled, and you set the now empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and slightly turned to Jason. "So.. what do you think?" You asked, curious of his answer.

"Probably one of the best movies I've ever watched, to be honest." he laughed. You grew excited. "Yes! I knew you'd like it. Who's your favorite character?" You questioned, beaming with excitment. His heart melted at your passion for this movie. You looked so cute with that sparkle in your eyes. He pondered for a moment.

"I mean, Hades was phenomenal, but... It has to be Pegasus. What about you, sweetheart?" He said with a soft look in his face."Pegasus is great. Mine's Meg, obviously! She's a badass."

Jason hummed at your statement, letting his fingers trail up and down your arm. You two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, letting the names in the credits run over the screen. "You know, you remind me a lot of Hercules." You said. Jason turned towards you. "How so?"

"A. Huge Himbo," Jason gave you an unimpressed look with a smirk tugging at his lips,"B. You're kind and soft with a tough looking exterior, just like he is. You don't just look tough, you are, but you also help people in need and you've got a big heart." You said softly, placing a hand on his chest with a smile. He returned an equally as soft smile and wrapped his large hand around the one you had positioned on his chest.

"If you think so, will you be my Meg?" He smirked. You laughed and threw your head back. You looked so pretty like this, Jason thought. "Sure, as long as it's the movie Meg and not the myth Meg because... yikes." You responded. His brows furrowed and he tilted his head in confusion.

"Why? What's so wrong with myth Meg?" He questioned. You sucked in a breath. "Well... You'd end up murdering me and our children. You pissed off a witch and she put a spell on you which made you go on a homicidal rampage against your will." You mumbled. His eyes widened and he slightly slacked against the couch. "Damn..." he breathed out. You giggled. "Yeah... but that's greek mythology for you, baby." You sighed. He turned to you with still furrowed brows. "And you like this stuff?"

"Not the murder part, obviously!"

He chuckled and pulled you into his lap, hands on your waist. "Can we be a different couple from greek mythology? A happy one, perhaps?" He questioned with a grin. "Sorry to break it to you, Honey, but there is no such thing as happy couples in greek mythology." You laughed. A frown formed on his face.

"We better just stick to Herc and Meg, huh? Movie version, of course." He chuckled. Jason smiled and pulled you closer by your waist. "Yeah... we should." You smiled, lightly brushing your nose against his. "I love you, Wonder boy." You breathed out, a teasing tone to your voice. "I love you too, Megnut." He teased right back and pulled you into a soft and passionate kiss. You pulled him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling away, you two broke into one last fit of giggles and laughter. The movie night had concluded, and it had been a wonderful evening once again.

❤️••••••••••••••••••⚱️••••••••••••••••••❤️

#bumblebeesfromvenus #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason peter todd #jason todd #jason my beloved #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood x you #hercules

[beloved-belittled]

Gods/Titans x Reader: Birthday Gift Headcanons

Characters: Shinnok, Raiden, Fujin, Liu Kang, Shang Tsung, Cetrion, Kronika 

A/N: Not me forgetting Shang Tsung was a Titan in the last one I did like this, *cough cough*. This is a lot fluffier than my usual content, enjoy!

TW: Nothing really, aside from maybe an implied yandere with a few characters.

18+ to interact.

Shinnok

Likely doesn't know when your birthday is, nor does he care to ask. He's existed since before the concept of time, so what's another year around the sun supposed to mean to him? You’ll accidentally tell him about your birthday too, thinking out loud while he's around. Like, “oh it's my birthday today” or “I wonder if my birthday's coming up.” To which, he'll scoff and ask why you care about such a thing. Mortals and their customs have always irked him to no end.

For that reason, you shouldn't expect a gift or anything special when your b-day does roll around. If Shinnok wishes to treat you he'll do it any day out of the year. And his treats are rare, so I recommend appreciating them when they come. 

If Shinnok was to buy you a gift, he'd consider his tastes more than your own. So that means receiving items he likes and you may not enjoy. This includes: literature in an unknown language, skulls or other trophies from his enemies, overly ornate jewelry or clothing, and even a fresh soul for decoration or consumption. Be sure to smile and thank him even if the present is… Undesirable. It'll save you some pain and maybe he'll get you something better next time.

Raiden

He hasn't asked when your birthday is simply to be polite. But, you'll likely tell Raiden at some point and he'll never forget the day. Like most characters on this list, he doesn't have a birthday himself to celebrate. He understands how important it is to mortals however, and will make an effort to impress you.

Raiden may not get you a gift for your birthday though. It's not because he doesn't care, but because he'd rather not incite rumors or other speculations in his followers. This is especially true if your relationship is secret or even forbidden. It pains him, but he binds himself to a certain standard for good reason. It's only if he became Dark Raiden, or if your relationship was open/public would he offer you a present.

Raiden isn't very much “in-touch” with mortals, so he would also base a gift on his preferences. He enjoys things that enrich the mind and offer more perspective on the world. Some examples are: classical literature/philosophy, historical records or artifacts, spiritual aids such as incense or other herbs, and potentially a jar of Jinsei only if you have max trust with him.

Fujin

He asks you about your birthday, and like his brother he doesn't forget. While he doesn't have a birthday either, he likely adopts a fake one just to connect with humans. So, he knows the importance of your b-day and will ponder what to give you months ahead of time.

He's the first of the characters here to consider your preferences over his own. He'll ask you a lot of probing questions to find out your likes, but he's rather smooth about it so you won't know the intent behind it. He also observes you and learns more about your hobbies, while also doing a little bit of research on them to see what would make a good present.

The type of gift he offers is dependent on you, but he'll aim for something affordable yet memorable. It's worth noting that he may also invest in an experience such as going to a certain city or place. For your birthday Fujin would like to take you to a local restaurant, see a movie or some form of theater, or bring you something you've always wanted. 

Also, please give this man a gift for his fake birthday. He will appreciate it.

Liu Kang 

He should have an idea of when you were born due to him crafting your destiny. But, he makes sure to ask so you're not surprised about him knowing when your birthday is. His god-like memory won't allow him to forget your birthday, and he plans ahead for it a crisp 11 months in advance. He needs the time, considering all of the duties on his plate.

Like Raiden, offering you a gift on your birthday may cause jealousy in the Wu Shi Academy. The last thing Liu Kang wants is for his subordinates to suspect he has some kind of favoritism towards you. However, he has little problem with your relationship being public if you're dating. So, if you're in a relationship with him you'll get a gift. If not, he'll just say “happy birthday" and recommend you take the day off.

He’s considerate of your tastes when scrounging up a present. At the same time, if he feels that giving you what you want would enable bad habits, (ex: behavioral addictions or an unhealthy lifestyle) then he'll resort to a more generic gift. Some examples include: birthday/gift card, baked goods, potted plant or gardening seeds, and candles.

Shang Tsung

He knows your birth date, home address, and banking information before you've even met him. He enjoys thoroughly researching his prey before acting, so he knows all the little details of your life. And once he's wrapped you around his little thumb, you happily spill to him when your birthday is. 

His gift is determined by your relationship with him. If he's in the early stages of wooing you, then he'll get whatever you love. His budget is the most lenient out of anyone here, so if you want something on the more expensive side you'll get it. He can be far too lavish with it as well, easily spending thousands of dollars to get what you desire. Of course, he'll keep reassuring you that such a paltry amount is nothing if it's for you…

If he has you under his control already, then he just gets a gift that will please him. He sees you as a little trophy to show off and tease all the time, so you can imagine what his gifts would be like. Fine silks, opulent jewelry, fancy furniture for you to lay on… If the gift is anything that visually stimulates him and shows off his power then he'll offer it to you.

Cetrion

She knows when your birthday is because she is nigh omnipresent. However, unlike everyone else in this list, she likely won't be able to spend time with you on your birthday. Cetrion would observe you from afar, in Heaven, unless you've already died or she's gained her freedom from Kronika. Still, that doesn't mean she won't do something special for your birthday.

Cetrion has to be a bit sneaky when giving you a gift. While other Gods have to worry about their mortal followers getting angry, she has to worry about the wrath of Elder Gods and a Titan. But, she's been playing this game for a long, long time. She has her methods of getting one or two things past without their notice.

Cetrion's gift involves her powers. She may grow a large and beautiful tree in your yard overnight. Or (especially if you garden) find all of your plants blooming and thriving. If there's a particular animal you've really wanted as a pet, it'll show up practically on your doorstep -begging you to adopt it. Alternatively, you may just wake up with a power you've never had, wondering when in the hell were you able to talk to animals or had a green thumb.

Kronika

She probably cares the least about a birthday, second to only her son Shinnok maybe. But unlike him, she's far more considerate of you once you're in a relationship. If you want to celebrate the passage of time, so be it. 

She sees herself as an artisan in a way, and would likely craft you a gift utilizing her powers. By the end of it, you may end up with a powerful artifact on the levels of Shinnok's Amulet or a Kamidogu. Naturally, whatever object she creates will be imbued with the power of time. Speeding up time, stopping time, reversing time -as long as it relates to chronokinesis she'll create it.

And although she'll put time (literally) and effort into a present, her most important gift to you would be her presence. She'll want to hang out with you like normal, simply enjoying each other's company and voice. Kronika makes for a surprisingly good partner on your b-day. She's swayed many people to her side and for good reason -she considers other people's thoughts and desires. Of course, this is all assuming you didn't break her heart.

#mortal kombat x reader #shinnok x reader #raiden x reader #fujin x reader #liu kang x reader #shang tsung x reader #cetrion x reader #kronika x reader

[quotidianish]

TF2 x ATLA AU :3

Lore, close ups, and doodles underneath !

Scout, Pauling, and Ludwig are the main three- scout, who’s an (admittedly shitty) airbender but not the avatar, who ran away after his father left. Once spotted by fire nation soldiers, he is presumed to be the avatar- and scout basks in the glory of his false identity. Pauling- a studious, too serious for her own good, non-bender, who’s Medic’s student. She’s of the southern water tribe, treating medic like her paternal figure after the disappearance of her aunt. Medic is (unbeknownst to pauling and scout) a blood bender who was exiled for his practices. He doesn’t seem to care for anyone or anything, also being very jovial and cheery.

All Pauling and Scout know is that Ludwig was exiled from the northern water tribe then fled to the south for an undisclosed reason. Pauling never bothered to pry and the Scout was too intimidated to. Here the avatar cycle has indeed been broken. It’s up to a group of nine ragtag men and one mousy girl to defeat Gray Mann.

And the main three villains are soldier, demo, and sniper who're all fire nation folk. Sort of the team rocket; never truly competent enough to cause real damage, that or their hearts truly aren’t in it.

Soldier's a fire bender who specializes in jet propulsion and was kicked out of the army. He thinks if he steals back the avatar, they'll let him back in. A weapon since childhood, once a bully, always a bully, or so he’s heard.Character arc being the realization the fire nation army isn't worth fighting for. Surprisingly, he is very good with spirits, opposite to his best friend, Tavish, who despises them.

Demo’s just trying to impress his mum and be a good friend to the Soldier. People pleasing tendencies, that's his character arc. He's supposedly a non bender who's mighty good with swords; but underneath his inconspicuous-ish eye patch holds a combustion bending tattoo. Only Jane knows this. Well-versed in calligraphy.

Sniper is a 26 year old yuyan archer who was discharged for failing a mission while he was young. He joined the other two with the same goal as the Soldier. His yuyan archer tattoo still remains. He's a non bender with excellent aim, who grew up on the rural outskirts of the fire nation. His character arc is something about not adhering to expectations and learning who he's fighting for; a combination of the demoman and the soldier’s lessons.

Spy's a crusty airbender constantly sporting a mask to hide his tattoos, and knife. Nobody has a clue where he's from and he takes orders from whoever pays him best. His airbending tricks are so subtle, the public believes him to be a crafty nonbender. Usually said tricks are only invisibility and voice alteration. While not assassinating political figures he traverses the spirit world looking for his wife, a fellow air nomad, avoiding physical aging in brief sprints of time. He returns on a well paid mission to kill the “avatar,” which was presumably the scout. Little does he know, that weird whiteboy is just some lame airbender. Who’s also his son. His bad.

Engineers the metalbender; an art perfected by his ancestors and passed down in whispers to him. I haven't developed him much. He teaches the Scout what he knows while obscuring information on how he got that metal arm. Him and the Pyro have a shared love of blacksmithing. From an explosion, he thinks..

Pyro's a spirit probably. Nobody knows what he is. Where he’s from? Pyro. What’s his gender? Pyro. Guy who sets things on fire. Presumably human judging by his questionable use of what looks to be fire bending. And also the Spy's companion! They met in the spirit world. He and the Soldier form a close bond quite quickly thanks to their good graces with spirits (to Tavish’s immense dismay).

Heavy's an earth bender who continues to win in underground fights. Residing in ba sing se with his three sisters and elderly mother, scout pauling and medic meet him in an earth bender championship. Despite what his appearance suggests, his patience is unmatched, which is his greatest strength. He has near -perfect seismic sense. He and the Medic get on quite well, and after the fire lord has been struck down, form a duo in the ring, earning even more won championships.

#This was stupid and self indulgent. But if you . Maybe wanna talk to me about it. GRAHH #I lobe them :( #tf2 #art #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 au #atla #avatar the last airbender #heavymedic #boots n bombs #//blood #tw blood #some of these doodles look horrible. But whatever. it’s fine I got excited about an idea and spent 5 hours on the full team ref #Quotidianish #Atla au

[writing-by-mimi]

Breeding/knocked up

Fandom: Obey Me!

      My opinion on who would have a breeding kink and to what degree. I'll write one on how they would be with children later. XD

Adult content, read at your own risk. Not beta read.

💙Lucifer💙

     Would absolutely love cumming inside of you...not so keen on any offspring. Look at his and Satan's relationship... He loves you, he does...but if you want a kid, go baby Satan. Seriously. He'll let you pinch Satan's cheeks and the whole nine yards, just please don't get pregnant. He couldn't stand another offspring hating him, Mc.

     "Please don't make me fail you. I couldn't stand it if our child hated me too."

💛Mammon💛

     Babies take Grimm...so he isn't looking to get you knocked up on purpose. Would 100% be for cumming inside of you, but Mc, the Grimm a baby takes! The thought of breeding you though...it's all most worth it. You'd make a cute baby Mc...okay, okay...Maybe, Mc. Still cumming in you on accident, and if it does happen, he'd be shocked, but after the initial freak out, would 100% start actually saving Grimm. (He is still gonna gamble though...just a bit more responsibility involved.) After your knocked up though and every time after the baby is born, he's gonna breed you. He's Greed incarnate and he's had a taste...he isn't stopping now Mc.

      "Our baby is cute as fuck, Mc...and making 'em is the fun part. Let's give our baby a sibling."

🧡Leviathan🧡

     His favorite hentai is all creampies and cosplay. If you consider letting him have sex with you, he'd probably pass out. It would take a while for Levi to get it together and not pass out seeing you naked. Absolutely wants to get you pregnant! (Though it's a messed up reason and you'll hate him if you truly knew why Mc... Envy is a hell of a sin... if he gets you pregnant, you'll be with him and a part of him and a part of you will be joined forever...something no one else could ever have and to have absolutely all of you....his envy knows no bounds. He's so sorry Mc!) After he is used to your naked bodies touching, he is a man determined. Doing every pose he's ever seen in a hentai and filling you to the brim. Seeing you leaking his cum brings a peace to him. It won't be long Mc! Be ready to be breed, even mid raid. He can multitask.

     "Y-you want to what? I...I can do that!" *takes pants off and immediately passes out.*

💚Satan💚

     Adores cumming inside of you, but like Lucifer, is in no way aiming to get you pregnant. The unresolved issues he has with the man who spawned him...just get a kitten. It's cute, you can cuddle it. He's good with cats. He'll even by it cute little outfits you can dress it up in. Just please don't get pregnant. He doesn't want his child to feel even an inclination of what he's dealing with.

     "Mc, you said you wanted a baby, so this is Sugarloaf. I found her at the park and the mother hasn't been around for days." *hands you the ideal kitten you've always wanted.* "I even picked out outfits and toys for our fur baby." *proud cat Daddy smile.* (off topic, him and Jumin Han would be Cat Daddy Bros...)

💖Asmodeus💖

      Uh, of course he is going to breed you? Did you really think the Avatar of Lust didn't have that kink too? Oh Mc, your so cute! Literally jumping you at random. You'll never know when he's ready. Walking to R.A.D.? Not anymore, your going to be late, but don't worry, he can charm the teachers. Yes, he's fucking you behind this bush and filling you to the brim. Public sex is hot, Mc. In the kitchen making dinner? Boom, the turkey isn't the only thing being stuffed. Your baby is going to be the cutest in the three realms! He can have Levi help him make baby clothes, and you'll look so adorable pregnant! He can buy maternity clothes for you! There is nothing that would make him consider not breeding you 24/7.

     "You look so cute cumming, Mc, but I bet you'll look cuter carrying my child."

❤Beelzebub❤

      This fucking man...he's breeding you. He wants a huge family and the fact you'd be extra hungry all the time, and he'll have a cute child with you?! It's go time. Literally fucking you in the locker room after the game. You look hot in his jersey and he absolutely adores the sounds you make as he has you pinned against his locker, legs against his chest as he fills you up. Celestial realm help whoever walks in... your knocked up within two weeks, and he's gonna breed you again first chance he can.

     "A family? With me?" *unzipping pants, shirt is already gone.*

💜Belphegor💜

     Loves having slow, sleepy sex you with you. Not really into breeding. Loves cumming in you...but a half human child...after what he did to you... 100% not sure and would be the most upset that you got accidentally knocked up, and he wasn't even trying.

     "Mc...I'm not really into that..." *cuddles you harder and does almost anything else you want as an apology.*

💋Diavolo💋

     It's been pounded into his head since he was of age that having an hier was necessary. He's royalty, so he knows what a breeding kink is. It's not even so much the kink and the creampie that excites him as it is who it's with. Having sex with you, he understands the kink and is 100% on board. He'll have you under him, hands holding your thighs to your chest with your pleasure in mind, but the moment he cums inside of you and thinks of you being full of his cum and granting him offspring... he's breeding you every available moment, like Asmo. Has the main goal of conceiving his child on the throne and the view of you getting fucked full of his seed while his crown bounces on your head... it won't take long, Mc.

     "Fuck, you look so beautiful filled with my seed."

🖤Barbatos🖤

     Not gonna lie, I'm torn on Barb... I feel like he would only approach it with Mc if he knew for an absolute fact that you and any offspring that could result would be okay and safe. Like, if he did manage to get that timeline to work, he would indulge you in the kink whenever you asked. If he couldn't get it right...I think it would be such a feeling of failure on himself and Mc...he wouldn't want that for you. Would definitely creampie you and be rough, but the main purpose is pleasure and he won't do it unless he is 100% sure you will not get knocked up.

     "I am sorry, Mc...the timing is not right yet."

     

Solomon

     This man has lead a long life, and will continue too. Loving you, while it's wonderful now, it's nothing but pain and suffering later. If you remain. Mortal, I think he would pass on breeding you. He'll fuck you all kinds of ways, even loves filling you...but he can't takr the chance. A father shouldn't have to bury their children, he's buried lots of people mc...please don't make him privy to that. Although if Mc found a way to be like him and last through the ages, I think he would cave and give in...plus he'd love it, so you won't have to ask very hard. After all, once the kid reaches adulthood, if they wanna be immortal as well, he find a way. It's a family that will last and he won't lose. It's nice to finally have people that won't fade away...

     *Has already magiced his clothes off* "Mc, I need you to drink this..."

Simeon

     Since being demoted...hes woken up with erections regularly... ERECTIONS! He never touched himself as an angel. It wasn't pure and he had more will than that! But now...he's human...so indulging can happen...right? Dude is exploring his own boners and thoughts when the thought of filling you up and having a family hits. Cums, and almost dies. Like Simeon isn't completely innocent, but he's never taken the time to do something so...sinful. Knows of breeding kinks, and is so flustered when he realizes it's his kink. He would love to indulge and breed you, but with being an angel originally...but being with you would be worth it. Yet after the brothers fall because Lilith fell in love with a human...I don't think he'd be able to bring himself to do it. Would cum while having sex with you, but be so overly careful. Like you have a condom, he has a condom, spermicide, the pill, even pulling out all in one session. Though if Simeon fell...I think he'd go full bore and breed the living shit out of you. All day, everyday. You chose him and he's going to leave proof in anyway he can. Plus thinking of how cute the children would be... it would rival Diavolo and Asmodeus as far as being jumped to be breed 24/7.

     "Safety is important." *pulls out a whole pharmacy worthy of condoms and items to prevent pregnancy.*

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