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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 3 years

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Meant to Be (Soulmate AU, the end.)

:) I know it's been a lot of time in between each chapter, but I'm glad I saw it through, I think it's a nice wrap-up to this.

Pacing her apartment, the girl, covered in little bruises still, slapped a palm to her forehead. Stupid, stupid! She'd just let him take off before they could even work anything out, no place, no time—what had she been thinking?

"I am such an idiot," she moaned into her hands. As Raphael had instructed, she had, in fact, called the police once her strange rescuers fled from the scene, but the procedures that ensued from an assault case had occupied her for a few days. Three, it was; too long for her liking. She racked her brain trying to figure out how to find him again. And if she didn't, all she could do was hope he was the smarter of the two and would find her.

Raphael. The corners of her mouth dared to smile a bit despite her current issue. That name suited him.

It appeared that he'd lived a rough life in some capacity. There were scars on his face from God knew what, and he carried weapons and tough stride. Though, his colleagues were all a little different in appearance and gestures. Where did they rest their heads, she wondered. Not in a place like hers, clearly. And his clothes…

Yes, Raphael was gruff. But maybe just a little handsome, in a way—she blushed at the thought. You can't not remember that character. He looked like he could bench a truck.

She'd lately been taking a cab home due to the incident, but there was only one place they could possibly convene: the alley. A dank, kinda dirty, rat-here-and-there kind of place. Or the rooftop, if she could even get up there. Who wouldn't want to get to know their prince here, she thought sarcastically.

What do people usually do when they're getting to know their one true love?

On the window sill her phone chimed twice, calling her over. She wandered to her window and gazed out. On the sidewalk below, a couple strode down the concrete, both holding a bag of takeout between them. And suddenly, she had an idea.

Where exactly was that alley again?

He jumped past one, thought it didn't look familiar and went on to the next. It was about the hour that they'd crossed paths and he felt rushed like he was running out of time, impatient as he was. Until his phone vibrated from his pocket and demanded his attention.

The screen lit, Donnie's ID. He pursed his scarred lips and picked up.

"Need some help?" asked Don in his cheeky way. Raph could see the smile across the phone.He'd been expecting some kind of nagging or squawking over his departure, but it was just Donnie trying to be helpful as usual. He would have to pay him back for the solid.

"Sure," answered Raph.

"Sending the location now. It should show up on your GPS. Oh, and don't worry about you-know-what."

"Say what?"

Studying the address, he opened his mouth to speak, but Donatello was already cutting him off. "Gotta go, bye!"

"Don?" Raph said. The call ended and he stared at the address, puzzled. This was four blocks over and not where he remembered it to be. He wasn't that unobservant. It was the only real lead he had to go by, though, so he set off toward the new destination.

He flipped over an AC unit and landed on the lip of a roof adjacent to the one that marked the tiny red dot on his phone, skidding to a stop at what he saw.

Little candlelights littered around a blanket with white boxes and a couple of plates, the girl in question scuttling around trying to get things prepared. There was a container of some kind of sweet. Raph watched as she multiple times relit the same candle, only to have the breeze blow it out, followed by her anxious groan. She went back and forth with it until she gave up and fell back onto her rear.

You're kidding me, Raph thought, scooting to cover. The whole display was a bit pitiful. Now he understood the mysterious address. But how did she know to come up there? Don't tell me Don contacted her?

A typical dinner date with a mutant, stuck onto the top of a building to accommodate his...conditions. She didn't really think that was how it could go, right? That they could just sit down and have a meal together like nothing was wrong with that picture? It all seemed so wrong, too casual for what it was, false comfort. All of the candles went out and left her sitting alone in the dark, making her dig through her bag for her phone.

She rubbed her forehead and leaned back onto her hands, looking all around her as if surveying the cityscape for something. Her foot was tapping more and more rapidly. Cracking open one of the boxes of takeout, notably, no steam rose. Raph felt a pang of pity.

It was awkward and he just couldn't understand the idea of hers, but never had anyone do anything like that for him. Not like I ever had 'em lined up to take me out to dinner. But after some consideration, for someone like him, he supposed that it was the thought that counted. It didn't make the approach any easier. He stepped out into sight and whistled curtly, holding up his hands as if to say he wasn't a threat.

No, this ain't awkward or weird at all. Couldn't be, he mused with sarcasm. His long strides had him there a little quicker than he would have liked. He felt lumbering and intrusive.

"You're not serious, are ya?" he asked from the distance, eyeing the setup skeptically. She closed the gap between them as she fixed up everything and made it neat again. He waited for her to finish, shifting around on his feet.

She responded, "Your...brother told me to meet you up here. I don't even know how he got my number."

"He's got the means. And the fancy little dinner was his idea, too?" he snorted.

Her face fell almost imperceptibly. Back it up, put it in reverse, he sighed to himself. Why was he like this? Why did he always have to say what he was thinking?

"'Cause it just...seems like something...he'd do," he added reluctantly, wanting to wince. "That's Donatello for ya." A few uncomfortable seconds went by. He started to panic when she gave him a questioning look. "But I know he didn't, I'm just bein' an ass."

"You're not," she let a breath out, mustering a hesitant smile, "I know it's kind of stupid. I just thought that…"

He rose a brow.

Sitting herself down on the blanket, she looked up at him, and his heart started to quicken. "You ever had takeout from here?" she asked in a soft tone, forcing a laugh. He knelt down rigidly. The whole thing was uncomfortably small for him. "I don't know what you guys eat in the sewers, but I figured that this was the least I could do. For us."

He'd been opening up one of the boxes and inspecting the contents when his eyes went wide. "'Us'?" he parroted, dropping the container and spilling some of the noodles.

"No, no, no, not 'us' us, I meant as in, getting to know us, we—getting us to know each other," she stammered. "Sorry. No, that's not what I meant. I just thought it would somehow be less weird."

"You're sittin' across from a mutant turtle freak, don't you think that's weird?" he said.

Raph could have let out a sigh of relief, but felt he wasn't out of the thick of it yet.

He wasn't expecting the smile, the warm eyes. The "I don't think you're weird." he heard.

Needing something to occupy himself with, he snatched one of the cans of cola and popped it open. Before he started to chug, he replied, "Sure, ya don't think I'm weird."

"Okay, then I'm weird too," she said, tilting her head to catch his eye. He glugged the whole can of cola.

"Oh, you're weird, alright," he chuffed as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "I mean, look at ya. Putting together all this so you can eat cold noodles with a giant turtle ya just met. Is this what you call 'fun'?"

"They'd still be warm if you'd gotten here earlier. And for the record, I am having fun," she said, dipping into her own food. "Come on, eat, Raphael. Please."

He started to refute it, tried to get his guard back in place again, but his mind couldn't find the words. How badly he wanted to say "you're not having fun, you're just tolerating me," or "you're kidding yourself".

After a moment of squirming and trying to find something to bite back with, he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat. "Nah," he finally said. Then mumbled, "No way."

"Way," she chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. Raph shook his head.

A silence befell them. The self-consciousness was somehow worse when he was only being observed, which he knew by the gaze he could feel on himself past the chopsticks feeding noodles into his mouth. She can't possibly like what she sees. Get real. I'm gross.

"Can you stop your starin'?" he eventually snapped, narrowly avoiding crushing the takeout box on the concrete beneath them. "Didn't your mom or whatever ever tell you that's rude?"

It was pretty dark around them, but between talking and eating, she'd managed to keep a few of the candles lit. The warm glow it casted on her face didn't miss him, neither did her sheepish expression that held the possibility of a blush. She uttered an apology and averted her eyes. She couldn't have been looking upon him with any kind of joy. That's what Raph truly believed, at least. So why did it feel bad?

"I think I just can't stop looking at you, Raphael, truth be told," she said. His heart did skip that time. Oh, how he hated yielding.

He narrowed his eyes, "Whaddya mean?"

"You've got a lot of scars," she mumbled, leaning in. Without the disgust he'd imagined she would. "And your eyes are pretty."

"Pretty?" he scoffed. He was getting up, now. She scrambled onto her feet as well and reached out, just missing his arm.

He'd yanked his arm away. She corrected herself, "They're not like anything I've seen!"

Well, you don't have any business looking at me that close.

"(Y/N)."

Her smile left. He stood square before her as if on display. But his brow ridges were furrowed in, creating the intimidating visage she recognized as the first thing she'd ever seen of him. "What?" she asked.

Motioning to all the stuff at their feet, he questioned, "What's all this for, really?"

"I–I don't think I understand."

"You, doin' all this. Over some silly birthmark?" he pressed. "I can't figure out what's goin' on in your head and it makes me—"

She interrupted him. He went still as she slowly took his hand and balled his shaking hand, cupping it in hers. Lightly trembling, not from anger, not from fear. Those trepidatious shakes he'd felt many times before, but never with another person. Never like that.

"Confused? Mad?" she finished for him. All the words he couldn't quite find found themselves in the flutter of his stomach. They were caught on his tongue.

She was wrong. That wasn't it. "No," he could finally say, his voice low. "I don't know."

It took two of her hands to wrap fully around one of his, but she wouldn't let go. Raph wouldn't dream of trying to tear away from her delicate grip. "Do you think we can figure it out together, then?" she inquired softly.

"I...I don't—"

Lifting his hefty hand, she planted a light kiss on his knuckle, feeling the rough skin on her lips. Raph was absolutely stunned and could not move.

"I hope this tells you all you need to know," she stated, drawing away. Her back turned to him. The longest ten seconds of his life passed and he only regained the ability to move once she started to walk back to the stairwell, lunging forward to grab her shoulder before she caught the door. Careful to not hurt her.

Turning her around to him, he swallowed, "We ain't had dessert yet."

Raph never wanted to stop seeing her eyes shine like they did.

He prompted them to sit down this time, his hand running down her arm as he leaned back. Even then he was too shocked to smile, or make any other face, for that matter. She simply smiled at him.

"Right. Dessert," she winked.

In the end, Raph still couldn't totally shake his tough shell off. But he suddenly had the patience to try, just maybe, a lopsided grin forming as she divided the cake.

"...and two for you, because you're a big guy…"

He let her continue for a moment before getting closer. "Ya know, think I want to get to know ya without these stupid birthmarks, (Y/N)," said Raph with a smile that he didn't bother to hide. She glanced up at him, wondering. "So let's do it over again. I'm Raphael, but it's Raph to you."

Taking her focus off the cake, she slid his plate to him. "Without the marks?"

"Forget about 'em. We're strangers."

She laughed sweetly, "Then I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Raph."

After that, they shook on it over dessert, and marked the night that the walls Raphael had put up began to crack.

#tmnt raphael #raphael x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt bayverse #tmnt #tmnt soulmate au #soulmate au #soulmates #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #first love

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kiridarling · 3 years

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𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄

d.kaminari and h.sero | f!reader + corruption + weed/shotguning + praise + threesome + more! minors dni!

— 3.6k words

"I knew I wanted you the second I saw you."

Denki’s addicted to the pre-concert high.

His veins hum with a song that has yet to start, fingers drumming some mixed beat on the body of his electric guitar as he assumes his place on the dark stage. The theater’s dead silent, the room suspended in a titilating anticipation—and the steady rhythm Denki's heart dissapates into chaos when the faint crack of Eijirou's drumsticks bounce off the walls, and the click in his earpiece begins.

Eijirou hits the kick drum once. Twice. Then his hands fly across the set in a flurry, the rolling beat echoing into the packed arena and spurring the crowd to explode, fans flying to their feet to render their vocal cords for the night.

As the other instruments fill the blank space, Denki's hand grips the back of his guitar's neck, on hold for his solo, and by the time the electric blond steps up to the mic, pavlov's theory has already kicked in overdrive.

"Who’s ready to feel good tonight?”

“Dude, I’m on fucking fire!” Denki vibrates, nearly glowing in comparison to his bandmates as they sift through a flurry of fans at a meet and greet. It always seems like Denki and Eijirou are the only ones with energy after a good show—but what can he say? Being on stage lights him up like a live wire.

"You said that last concert, buddy," Hanta snorts, before his a fan ran sacks his attention by shoving a tiara into his hairline.

"And? My point still stan—" Denki cuts himself off with a gasp as a bra slings across his face, followed by a burst of pain when the metal hits him in the cheek. He peels the lacy thing off with an eye on the audience and an eyebrow raised in question, unsure of what to do with the undergarment (other than put it on) until someone screams:

“Sign it!”

Denki shrugs and pops the Sharpie cap with his teeth to sign the crest of both cups before flinging it back into the audience—he can only pray it pinpoints its rightful owner before the meet and greet ends.

Katsuki clicks his tongue (because he hates these events) and as the next round of fans lineup in front of their table, Eijirou stretches like this is a sport, saying, “Guess it’s go-time.”

"Go-time is when we perform," Katsuki grumbles in the seat to Denki’s right. "Go-time is when we're in the studio makin' a goddamn album, not meeting crazy fuckin' fans—no, I’m not gonna marry you, you obsessed fuckin—“

“Oh, you're just salty you're not popular with the ladies~“ Denki gushes, wiggling his eyebrows, and a fan hands him a canvas the size of his upper body. “Un—oh wow, did you make this for me—Unlike me, of course.”

"Okay, pretty boy." Hanta rolls his eyes, before signing a phone case and returning it to an overzealous fan. With a hand covering his mouth, he whispers, “Can you believe this guy? So full of himself, I swear.”

The fan giggles and Hanta meets the blushing cheeks with a satisfied smirk. Denki huffs from the disrespect, crossing both arms over his chest. “Full of myself? It’s not my fault I’m sexy—*an autograph? Of course!"

Katsuki chuckles, scratching under his chin with ink blue fingertips, "Call yourself sexy one more fuckin’ time and I'm projectile vomiti—no, I'm not signing your tits, give me a goddamn paper or somethin—"

"What?” Denki scoffs, chest collapsing with the disbelief that one could make such a lie. “I'm literally the definition of I'm sexy and I kno—"

"Um, excuse me?"

His gesticulations freeze at the passive voice, arms stretched wide and to the sky, and Denki knows he has to look absolutely ridiculous as he blinks down at the next person in-line; who's stood with bambi eyes and such a sweet smile the electric blond thinks it might make him sick.

"I-I'm your biggest fan! Could you—um, please sign this for me?"

She comes alive, shoving a poster into his chest with pink cheeks and shifty irises. Out of all the bras, all the breasts he's been asked to sign today, and here you are, with your pocket-sized poster and your lamb countenance. Denki beams.

"Of course, Sweetness! What's your name?"

"[Y/N]!" you say, giggling, and it's so. Cute. Denki opens the Sharpie and struggles to focus on signing instead of your gorgeous fucking face.

"Anything specific you'd like me to say?"

And he knows there's a rule—there always are when it comes to these things, and it's simple: don't fuck the fans. As tempting as it is, don't invite them back to your hotel room because there are too many uncertainties, and if something leaks to the press that’s possibly career ending, that’s it. So, Denki holds his tongue. For the future of himself and the band.

"Uhm, just write what you want! I...I think I'd like it best if it was authentic and came straight from you, so."

Fuck. Of course she does.

And maybe Denki just can't help it when he leans down to speak, perhaps a little lower, "You want something more authentic, cutie?"

You light up like a kid on Christmas, gasping, "Yes please Mr. Kaminari!"

So eager, too.

"Awe, you can call me Denki if you'd like," he coos, and you nod so quickly he starts to worry about whiplash. "Meet me out back, in the alley behind the venue if you wanna get to know me better. Sound like a deal?”

"O-Okay!" You nod, and when he returns your sign you grip it tight between both hands. "I'll um, see you soon Mr. Kami—I mean, D-Denki!"

You flush from the mix up and bow in apology, and Denki knows he's made the right choice when you light up, indicating you have no idea what he meant at all.

"Row row row your boat, gently down the stream," you hum, sniffling. You’re unsure if your nose is running, it's too frozen to tell, and it has you patting to confirm it’s presence. With your hands stuffed in your pockets and a jacket wrapped tight around your body, you'd think you'd be warm, but no.

The alley is dark. It's dank enough that you can smell it and you're positive what you're dancing in is vomit, but none the matter—today, you met your favorite band. Literally the people you'd die for.

"Merrily, merrily," kicking the loose rocks in the gravel every which way, you enjoy the sound of them scattering against the surrounding brick walls. "Merrily, merrily..."

"Life is but a dream," a voice finishes, a yelp rips from your throat and you jump twenty feet in alarm. But you’d know that voice anywhere; Denki chuckles at your reaction and it has you recoiling with timidity, unprepared for the surprised audience. "You have a lovely voice, Cutie. You should use it more often."

"I..." but you're not exactly sure what to say to that, knowing Denki's heard so many professional voices in his career to last a lifetime, and yet yours is lovely. "T-Thank you."

Denki watches your reaction with a hum and a smile, his visible breath escaping between the slit of his lips and into the cool air.

"Of course, Cutie."

Another voice sighs, shattering the friction that fills your gut when Denki gives you that look. You're not sure what to call it, but it makes you shiver, and that's enough to make you to run and hide.

"...Denki, who's this?"

"Um," the blond places his frozen hands in his pockets and swivels his head around to Hanta, guilty written all over his face. "A fan?"

Hanta sighs again, head tilting to the right in exhausperation, “Denki—"

"I know, I know," the electric blond sighs, waving him off. "But it's fine as long as we don't get caught, right?"

Hanta's black hair threatens to fall into his face so he combs through it, and you try not to drool at the sight of his bicep flexing. "Yeah, until we get caught."

A honk blares and it has you shrieking, to reveal a parked tour bus in the alley once the lights flicker on. Denki points the car keys at the vehicle and the doors swing open. "Awe c'mon, don't be a sour puss. It's a one-time thing, alright?"

Hanta's eyes narrow into slits.

"Seriously, dude! I'm a man of my word! On God."

The noirette's shoulders sag, but he waltzes around both of you to get on the bus. Over his shoulder, he warns, "Denki I swear to fucking god—"

"I'll be careful, I'll be careful~" he singsongs, hopping onto the stairs after the pianist. When Denki notices not you're not moving, he stills at the top step. "You coming, [Y/N]?"

"O-Oh, am I um, am I allowed?" You ask, biting your cheek at the thought of what Hanta just said as you peer around the electric blond’s body. Denki snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you're allowed," he exits the bus, only to tug you on via your collar. "Now c'mon! Let's have some fun, yeah?"

"Okay!"

Denki steers you through the bus and into a space that looks a bit like a living room, with a couch, tv, and a makeshift kitchen in the corner. Following Denki to the kitchen, you look around.

"Where are Kirishima and Bakugou?"

"Out drinking," Denki tosses, flicking open a RedBull. You wonder if this is always the post-concert routine. Hanta fiddles in with something on the couch, but he still has yet to look you in the eyes tonight, even when you ask him:

"What are you doing?"

It seems he didn't realize you’ve relocated from the kitchen to the couch next to him from the noirette nearly jumps. The green stuff in his fingers crumbles, and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

"It stinks," you add. Denki snorts, jumping onto the cushion to your right. There isn’t a whole lot of room and his addition causes your shoulders to slush between the two of them, but it’s strangely comfortable.

"It's weed," he explains like it's obvious. "You smoke, Cutie?"

"Obviously not," you and Hanta say at the same time. You turn his way, and for the first time that night, Hanta looks you in the eyes—and it's a smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners, but there's...something else. Something else hidden behind the thinnest veil that makes you cower, if ever so slightly.

Something feral.

Denki, unaware of the crushing grip your hand has around your thigh, huffs, and tosses the energy drink down his gullet, "It was a genuine question! Geez."

"What are you doing?" You ask again, and the electric blond whimpers from being ignored.

"Rolling a joint," he utters, lifting the paper to his lips to lick the length. You watch, semi-disgusted, as Hanta finally folds over the last bit of paper around the crest of the joint, gluing it together.

"Know what a joint is?" The noirette implores.

"Yeah," you breathe, shifting at the new closeness Denki provides when you feel his chest against your back. "My roommate smokes, so."

Hanta taps it on a tray, or what Denki describes as "packing it down," before twisting the tip and tossing it back onto the tray in conclusion. Denki cheers.

"Aha! The joint-rolling master has blessed us! Everyone say thank you, joint-rolling master."

"Thank you, joint-rolling master!" You giggle when Hanta's face turns a ruddy red. He reaches over to pop Denki upside the head. Denki gasps, before lunging to return the favor, and you squeal from being jostled between two men.

"Okay," when Denki returns to his seat he's panting and so is the noirette. He picks the joint off the tray and though there isn't much room, turns so he's facing you, your legs smushed against his body indian style. "You ready, Cutie?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you huff, swinging your arms in preparation despite the lack of space. Just in case.

Hanta snorts, holding the joint to your lips, and Denki raises the lighter and raises it to the end until it's hot enough to burn on its own.

“Now suck."

You do, cheeks puffing, and you blow the smoke straight in Denki's face. It's...a lot.

"Not quite," Hanta chuckles, and flips you via the waist so you're facing him. Denki whines from the change but finds solace in hooking his chin over your shoulder. "Suck, and then inhale. Act like it's a big breath—you gotta hold it in your lungs for a sec."

"Okay," you assert with a nod, eyes burning with a new determination. When Hanta holds it to your lips, you suck and inhale, and start coughing your throat raw, in a flurry of smoke and tears, eyes watering and nose burning. You scramble for water, but by the time you get some, the only thing that's left to soothe is a sore throat.

"Here," Denki offers, grabbing the joint before flipping you his way again. "Take smaller hits, like this."

Denki's mouth wraps around the tip and smoke pours from his lips so smoothly you're determined to do the same. With a raised eyebrow, he passes it back to you, and though it takes a moment, you try again.

The back of your throat tingles but the glide is much smoother, and you find that it doesn't burn on your next exhale. So you do it again. And again. And agai—

"Okay," Hanta picks the joint from your fingers with a click of his tongue, before taking a hit himself. You frown, making grabby hands.

"Hey, wai—"

"Nu-uh," he tuts, pushing you down by your forehead. "You'll feel it soon enough, trust me."

You whine, crossing your arms over your chest. Hanta gives you nothing but a raised eyebrow as he takes another hit, and you're convinced it's to taunt you. "I'm not eve—"

But then the world blurs, a bit, and your legs hum in a way they haven't before; it's warm and it's nice, and it has you blinking down at your hands in bewilderment. Whoa.

"And there she goes," Denki announces, and somehow seized the joint from the noirette when you weren't looking. Your mouth drops to say something, but all you can produce is a light giggle before it melts into a guffaw that only comes straight from the gut, your hands trying to soothe your cramping belly. Tears come to your eyes fairly easily, and when Hanta asks if you're okay he sounds like he's underwater, and that's enough to send you flying through another fit of laughs.

"I—y-yeah, I'm just—just fine," you snort behind a hand, chest spasming as you finally gather yourself enough to calm down. "I'm good. Mhm."

"Yep. Totally fine," Hanta says, but something in his tone suggests he doesn't believe you at all.

You nod, biting your bottom lip to avoid another laugh attack with your hands bunching the bottom of your shirt for extra purchase. Hanta narrows his eyes while taking another hit, so you sock him in the shoulder with a huff. "Stop looking at me like that."

The noirette snorts, "Like what?"

"Like..." you start strong, but falter under his eyes. "Like you want to eat me."

Hanta hums at the comment but says nothing, and you're not sure if your mind fabricated the quick look he gives the electric blond sat behind you. Denki speaks first.

"Do you know what shotgunning is, [Y/N]?"

You frown, "Like a shotgun?"

"So no," Hanta answers for you.

"Here," Denki offers, turning you again. Plucking the nub of a joint from the noirette, he takes a big hit before picking your face up by the jaw and hovering your lips over yours. You're not sure what to do, but once your lips connect, smoke fills your lungs, and you don't exhale until Denki pulls away. You blink, a little dazed.

You just kissed Denki Kaminari.

"Feel good?" He asks, never leaving your personal space. You nod, and he grins. "Wanna do it again?"

Your hands fist his shirt, teeth tearing the inside of your cheek due to the amount of embarrassment this question encourages. "I wan—can we do it again but without the um...without the smoke?"

Denki's hands find your hips and it's hard for him to contain a sly smirk, biting his lips to move in on his prey.

"I knew I waned you the second I saw you."

Denki's lips feel much better when he puts a little weight into the kiss, pinning you between him and the noirette. You're not exactly sure what you're doing but he takes the lead, titling his head and kissing harder, rougher, so your lips are pink and swollen by the time he pulls away.

"A-Another," you whimper, tightening your grip around his tee.

Denki hums in contemplation, picking your head up by your chin. "Ask nicely, Cutie."

Flushing deeper, your eyes dart to the coffee table.

“Another, please."

"Good girl," Denki coos, and he's propping you up against Hanta's chest. You shiver at the comment, finding purchase on Hanta's thighs as Denki kisses you on the lips again. "Wanna feel even better?"

"Yes," you nod vehemently. "Yes please."

Denki hums at that, climbing down your body as his hands glide from your waist to the band of your pants. You frown, "What—What are you doing?"

"Eating you out, Cutie," the electric blond says, hands freezing once his thumbs dip under your waistband. "That okay?"

"Oh okay," you breathe, relaxing against Hanta's chest. "Y-Yeah, that's fine."

Denki rips your pants off at that, tossing them towards the corner of the room and ultimately, to a place you'll probably never find them. Pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips at the sight of your pussy, and flicks your clit with a smirk. You jump.

"H-Hey, that's not—"

He flattens his tongue against your slit and chuckles when you shudder, and after tossing both of your legs over his shoulders. You're not sure what he does after that though, because Hanta picks your face up by the chin and presses his lips to yours.

Denki slides a finger inside and you squeal against Hanta's chapped lips. You hear the electric blond moan, readjusting himself between your thighs, before you finally peel your lips off the noirette's, chest having from lack of oxygen.

"Such a pretty pussy, Baby," Denki gushes before his warm lips fold around your clit and he sucks, humming in surprise when you buck against his mouth. Hanta hooks his chin around your shoulder with a second joint dangling between his lips—and where it came from is beyond you.

Once he exhales, the joint finds its way between your lips and he instructs you to inhale, and the head rush afterwards has you digging your head into his chest.

"You're so wet, holy shit," Denki pulls away, lips strawberry pink and glossed with slick as he trades his both for his thumb and inserting another finger. It crooks just right and that's enough to make your hips buck, nails carving crescents in Hanta's thighs.

“T-There,” you whimper, wiggling your hips again, and Denki grins, thumb pressing into your clit. Your thighs quiver with the strain it takes to hold them back and Hanta’s calloused hands skip to your waist after dropping the burning joint off in the tray.

“Pull his hair,” the noirette commands, but you hesitate, hands glued to his thighs. Hanta sighs, reaching over you to tug for himself.

“Mph—fuck!” Denki’s eyelids flutter as he moans into your pussy with a new passion, his hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place. You gasp at his reaction, fingers scrambling under Hanta’s own to thread through his electric blond hair.

“Move your hips—grind against his face, c’mon,” Hanta’s grip tightens around your waist as he offers the suggestion, and you whimper with a nod before your bucking into Denki’s mouth without abandon. As the noirette trails butterfly kisses up the column of your neck, the coil in your gut snaps, and you barely have time to squeak out a warning before you’re flooding Denki’s mouth.

“Good girl...ride it out—there you go,” Hanta coos, biting your ear. You shiver as Denki pulls away with a final (and obscene) slurp, grinning like he didn’t just shatter you to pieces with nothing but his tongue and fingers.

Denki’s lips are on yours in a blink—you moan, legs still buzzing from the afterglow as you weakly grope for the small hairs on the back of his neck.

“Taste good, don’t ya?” He says with a click of a tongue after pulling away.

“I guess so,” you flush, the humiliation from so shamelessly digging your heels into Denki’s back finally settling in. Hanta reaches under your arm for Denki’s chin.

“What? Want a taste too?” The electric blond giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. Hanta snorts.

“If you could be so kind.”

Denki hums at that, placing a hand on your inner thigh for balance as he slams his lips on the noirette’s for the first time that night. He dives straight for the kill, tongue and teeth and everything, and Denki moas when Hanta’s teeth sink into his bottom lip; you find that you like it a lot.

Though eventually you tired of watching, and press the heel of your hand on Hanta’s hard cock through the fabric of his jeans. The pianist hisses, and you grin—you’ve got their attention now.

“Whoa Sweetheart, what are y—“

“I...I want more,” you assert despite the tremor in your voice. Hanta raises an eyebrow in question which has you pressing harder in hopes he’ll cave just as easily as before. Just in case, you add, “Please.”

Denki redirects your attention by squishing your cheeks until you’re looking him in the eyes. With dark eyes, he says, “You sure you want more, Cutie?”

You nod despite the restriction, “Wanna...wanna get to know you better.”

You watch Denki’s pupils dialate at that, and he can’t even hold back a groan when he says:

“Gods, Baby. We’re going to ruin you.”

unpopular opinion: bakugou's the bassist and kirishima's the drummer. fight me.

not me projecting 12yo sun's fantasy of getting railed in the tour bus by 5sos um—

#— 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 #kaminari smut #sero smut #kaminari x reader #sero x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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iglooracing · 2 years

Text

can seb and/or charles ever catch a break?? it's like they're swapping luck and it makes me sad :( anyway, i went for a bit of a different approach to writing this. obviously more hurt/comfort (will i ever get to write anything else for this series?? lol) mixed with some sleepy and somewhat pouty charles, caring yet flirty seb, and some praise from both <3

// spanish gp 2022 //

there's a faint buzzing noise near charles' ear, slightly muffled by the thick, white hotel comforter. charles is sure he only closed his eyes for a few minutes, so that can't be his alarm already, can it? he feels groggy and he runs a hand through his messy hair as he tries to figure out what's going on. he knows he's still in spain, at least.

the room is dark, but there's some light filtering between the curtains pulled across the large windows and he's not in sleepwear, so it can't be the middle of the night or the next morning. that buzzing noise is still going off though and he groans in annoyance.

he shuffles his hand around between the bedding until he finally snatches his phone up to stop the alarm. his eyes widen when he sees a name across the top of the screen instead of an alarm, and he quickly presses to answer.

"salut," he murmurs, voice slightly hoarse with sleep.

"mmm, guten morgen," seb teases on the other end.

charles makes an unimpressed noise in reply and seb laughs.

"had a nap, i think," charles mutters in response to the question seb didn't have a chance to ask yet. charles lays back against the pillows and lets out a sigh at how tired he still feels.

"i'm guessing it didn't help?" seb replies, his voice softer than his initial "greeting."

charles lets out another noncommittal noise and seb chuckles again, but this time it sounds sadder. or maybe charles is still half asleep. he wishes seb was here laying next to him, so he could feel seb's voice against the shell of his ear too. his warm breath and rough stubble against his jaw and cheek. a hand in his hair maybe.

"are you still with me?" seb asks quietly, his voice sounds unsure to charles. "i can let you go, if you're still tired? you can call me later, if you'd like?"

"hmm, yes, sorry," charles replies and pushes himself up to sit up a bit more against the headboard. "i mean wait, no, yes i'm here, don't go, please," he quickly stammers out.

"i'm not going anywhere, schatz," seb replies and charles melts back against the pillows again at the warmth in seb's voice and the way it envelopes him like a hug.

"you raced well, i'm very proud of you."

"yes i know," seb chuckles. charles is sure he's blushing. "you told me that when you texted me earlier."

"and now i'm telling you again," charles responds. because it's true. because you're amazing and you deserve to hear it more than once. because i want you to believe me.

"danke," seb replies shyly. charles has the strongest desire to kiss him.

"the car felt good then?" charles asks.

"she's still new, we're still learning, but," seb starts, but seems to stop himself before he can rave on about the new package. "there's definitely hope..." he trails off.

"i'm glad," charles replies happily.

"how about you?" seb asks. the question is vague, but charles knows exactly what seb's implying. it's directed toward the car, but it's moreso about charles.

"still figuring it out..." he sighs and rubs a hand over his face and then up into his hair, tugging gently. his answer is true for both the car and himself.

"i wish i didn't have to leave so early tomorrow," charles admits. because then we could have time to see each other. because then i could kiss you as long and as hard as i want to.

"i know, schatz," seb responds and his voice sounds as wistful as charles feels.

"wish you were here," charles whispers. he knows it goes without saying and he feels slightly embarrassed to admit that, but dammit he's sleepy and still somewhat frustrated by everything that happened in the race and all he wants is seb curled up in the empty spot next to him.

"hmm, yeah?" seb teases. "what would we do if i was."

charles chuckles at where this could so easily go, but he knows exactly what he wants and it isn't a quick and fast distraction.

"whatever you want," charles answers instead.

seb chuckles and the sound is so low and gravelly it makes a spark shoot straight down charles spine to coil in his belly before it fizzles away.

"that's a very enticing offer," seb replies and charles bites his lip at how wonderful seb sounds in his ear.

"i think i would start by getting into bed next to you," seb starts and charles can't stop the smile that breaks out on his face. "i'd pull you close and give you a kiss."

"just one?" charles whines.

"maybe more," seb complies easily. "i think you've earned it, hmm?"

charles hums in agreement as he stretches out on the bed, popping a couple of joints with a satisfied sigh and seb chuckles on the other end.

"you're amazing, mein liebe," seb whispers. "and i'm very proud of how well you raced today."

charles pouts and wraps an arm around his own waist. "you told me that already too, in text," he responds.

"and now i'm telling you again," he replies easily, mirroring charles' response from earlier. "you were so close to a grand-"

"don't jinx it!" charles cuts him off and seb laughs. "and you don't know that for sure, there was still many laps to go..."

"okay, i'm sorry, i'll stop there," seb concedes, but charles can hear the grin in his voice. if seb was here he would nip at his lip or his jaw in retaliation, he thinks.

it's quiet between them for a couple moments before charles speaks up, "you don't actually have to stop you know.. what you were saying before.."

seb hums and charles thinks he can hear bedsheets rustling on the other end. "so indecisive tonight," seb teases. "now, where were we?"

"many kisses," charles answers confidently.

seb chuckles before replying sweetly "as many as you want, schatz. always."

#ahhhh i restarted this so many times lol but i like how it turned out #also what are endings idk #i hope you enjoy if you read!!!#sebchal #sebchal drabble #sebchal fic #f1 drabble #drabble #my writing

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Yes, sir! | Niki Lauda

Professor Lauda AU! 👨‍🏫

Gender neutral reader

Dedicated to @lieutenantn and @scuttle-buttle 💕

Again, still learning German, so I apologise if anything is wrong. I'm doing my best 🥺

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 4

You had ignored all of Katie's attempts to contact you about German flirtation. You got back to your home after that meeting and got started on the literature catch up you needed to do.

You arrived to your languages class on time, assignment ready to go. You take your seat, sending to ignore your Professor who stands at the front waiting for his students to arrive.

You don't even notice how his eyes follow you to your seat.

The class soon fills up. Only then do you look up at your Professor, at which point he has moved his gaze away from you.

You are non the wiser to his gaze.

"Are you all ready?" He asks, eyes flcikwringnto every student in the room. You manage to keep it cool for those few seconds they land on you.

He steps down from the front and takes a seat along the front row, only a few seats away from you.

You keep your eyes forward.

"Who is going first?" He asks, keeping his head up, looking right ahead. No one makes a move. He waits.

You would go, but you can't will yourself to move. Another student gets up and makes their way to the front. They look nervous as they glance up at the Professor.

He sits and he listens.

The student gets through their assignment with very little messing up, just a few mispronounciations. Lauda just gives them a 'good, sit back down,' and says nothing else.

A few more students take their turns. He barely praises them, correcting everything that is wrong. He looks far from impressed by what he has seen so far, but then again, you're all new to the language.

Surely he must know that.

"Next!" He calls out.

You look around. Time to bite the bullet and get it over with. You stand from your seat. His eyes flicker over to your movement. He watches you as you make your way up front.

You do everything you can not to look at him.

You just about see him shift in his seat as you take a deep breath. You focus on anything except him because you will forget everything the moment you acknowledge him watching you.

He waits eagerly, not that anyone can tell. From what he saw in your notebook, he was rather impressed.

"Hallo. Ich heiße Y/N. Ich bin ein schüler. Ich mag sprachen und bücher. Ich höre gerne musik und zeit mit meinen freunden verbringen. Danke fürs zuhören."

You stand there awkwardly. You had written much more down in your notebook, but you didn't want to be speaking for too long. You still had a long way to go before you were confident in this language.

Niki sits there with the tiniest of smiles pulling at his lips. You had kept it simple, he knew there was more you could have said, he recalls some of what was in your notebook, but he was pretty impressed.

"Work on your pronunciation and you'd sound like a native. Well done. I am impressed."

You bite your bottom lip nervously. This was the first time he had said he was impressed.

You sit back down, keeping your gaze from him. Yet, he would glance at you every so often while he listened to others.

You were going to be his best student, he just knew it.

When everyone had done their presentation he stood up and stood back in front of everyone again.

"Not the worst German I have ever heard. I'm surprised so many of you did so well after just two classes. Now that I know you all a little better, we may have some ground to stand on. I know exactly what levels you are at right now, so be proud of yourselves, you're all worthy of being in my classroom."

Everyone smiles and congratulates each other quietly.

Lauda checks his watch.

"Class dismissed. You may leave. I hope to see you all as eager to learn from here on out."

Students rise from their seats, gathering their things. Just as you get up to go, Lauda stops you by leaning against your desk. You look up to see him looking at you.

"May I have a word?"

You nod. He waits for the other students to filter our before addressing you.

"I am impressed."

"Danke, sir."

He smiles.

"Keep this up and you'll go far in my class. Though, I must ask, why did you leave out so much of your assignment?"

You shift awkwardly on your feet, gripping your bag a little tighter.

"Everyone else's presentations were quote short. I felt I may have put too much effort into my work. I didn't want to come off as an over achiever or anything."

He looks at your curiously. You wonder what he's trying to find with you.

"Please, do not hold back on me. I feel you may have more talent than many of my other students. I want to hear you express yourself in my class. Let me see how much you're willing to learn."

You smile softly.

"Alright. Thank you, sir."

He nods and pushes off your desk. He gestures with his hand that he's letting you go now. You thank him once more before making your leave.

Niki watches you go.

He sighs as the door closes behind you. He was very impressed indeed.

You walk outside with a smile on your face. However, it drops when Katie approaches you. You make to turn around and speed walk the other way, but she catches up quickly.

"Wait!"

You sigh and slow down.

"How was German?"

"It went well. He was impressed."

"Ooo, maybe he fancies you too," she laughs.

You roll your eyes and keep on walking.

"Before you ask, no, I still don't know how to flirt in German. I can't help you."

"I wasn't going to! But if you could learn that quickly, hit me up, yeah?"

"Why don't you research how to flirt in German? Also, why would flirting be the first thing you think they would teach us?" You ask, smiling.

"I don't know! Maybe Professor Lauda wants to jump your bones, but first he wants to sweep you off your feet with flirty comments," she winks at you.

You shake your head.

"You're so weird. Whatever fantasy is playing in your head, it's not happening."

"It could!"

"Well, it's not. If you'll excuse me, I need to eat now."

Katie doesn't leave your side.

"Will you buy me a burrito or something? I'm starving!"

You roll your eyes and agree.

Your friends could get so carried away sometimes.

@lieutenantn @scuttle-buttle @rumblelibrary @zemosimp05 @hb8301 @celtic-witch-bitch @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lorna-d-m @anteroom-of-death @belle82devart @vverliebt @alltimebandsexual666 @charistory @mischief-siriusly-managed @thatoneartgalsstuff @mssennimatilda @hannahbal-the-fannibal @apparrio

#niki lauda au #niki lauda x reader #au #professor au #daniel brühl x reader #Daniel Brühl AU

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Please Don't Leave

A/N: Halfway requested, but not really but I adore the light of my life (@bestintheparsec) and she deserves this 💕 Enjoy! Prompt used: “Would you rather kiss me or die?”

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: None

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"What? What's wrong?" Javi asked as you moved next to him, trying to keep your composure and break down in scared, nervous tears. The two of you were currently tied up next to each to other in the middle of nowhere in Colombia in a dark, dirty basement.Not exactly the best of situations to find yourself in.

But here you were. All because of one little wrong move when trying to close in on one of Escobar's many sicarios. It could have been worse but...no. This was pretty damn bad.

"Nothing," you lied, refusing to turn around and look at him, "just uncomfortable. You know this whole tied you thing isn't exactly fun."

"Babe-"

"Don't call me that," you hissed at him, scooting further and further away. As much as you could in the dark, dank basement. Enough to create a small distance between your bodies.

"Just tell me what's wrong," he insisted as you scoffed, "I'm not a complete moron."

"I...I'm scared, Peña," you admitted after a few moments of tense silence. You hadn't wanted to admit it, especially not to him, but this time...you just felt worried. Normally, almost nothing phased you anymore after all the horrors and atrocities you encountered on an almost daily basis. But this did, "and if you ever tell anyone I said that or make fun of me, I will kill you. If we get out of this alive. Which is looking very slim right now."

"I wouldn't..." he promised quietly. It was silent for a few moments as he seemed to be contemplating something, "listen I have a plan. It's not much, but I think its the best we have right now.

"I'm willing to listen to whatever plan you have that doesn't involve us dying," you sighed softly.

"They come back, we pretend we don't speak any Spanish, that we're just a tourist couple," he suggested as you groaned. It was a weak idea at best, but at this point you were almost willing to give it a try, "I don't know if they recognize our faces enough to know who we are. We just have to play it up, act like a real couple."

"Nuh uh. Not happening," you insisted firmly, a sharp tone to your voice, "nope. I'd rather..."

"What? Would you rather die or kiss me? Act like a couple to try and get out of this," he asked as you remained silent. It was tense as you mulled over his words. Eventually he groaned loudly and in an exasperatedg tone asked, "really? You can't just say yes?"

"I'm thinking!" you scoffed as he sighed deeply, his signature trademark, "its a close decision!"

"You didn't have any problems with it a few weeks ago. You were more than willing to kiss me then," he reminded as you cringed. You wished he'd hadn't brought that up. You wish you could have forgotten that night and scrubbed it from your memory. But no - it was still etched, deep and painful.

"Yeah, well that ended up as a one night stand, so it doesn't even matter," you insisted quietly, reminding him of the harsh reality of the situation, "let it go, Peña."

"It didn't have to be. I didn't think it would be," his response so soft and quiet you almost didn't hear it. But you did - loud and clear. You tensed up, unsure of what to say, "you were gone when I woke up..."

"You didn't...we didn't ..." you hung your head as you searched for the right words, but they seemed to fail you, "we were drunk, Javi. We are...were friends. It shouldn't have happened. We just got caught up in the moment."

"I wasn't drunk," he insisted softly, "were you?"

"No," you said, "I wasn't..."

"Then why did you leave?" he asked, and you were almost sure that there was a shake to his voice, "you've been avoiding me like the plague ever since. You barely even look at me anymore. I get if you don't want this, but can we at least try and be friends - partners?"

"I was scared...I am scared," you confessed, "I didn't want to ruin anything. I didn't...I'm not a one night stand type of person, Javi. I want more than that. And I wasn't sure what happen if I told you that. I figured it was better if I just kept my distance."

"I didn't want it be a one time thing," he replied and you turned to face him, searching for those soft brown eyes in the dim light, "I want this to be more."

"I didn't think you were the relationship type," you knew he penchant for having often a different partner and seeking his pleasure within brothels. Everyone did - not that you held that you held it against him, "I just don't...I don't know, Javi. I like you, a lot, and I don't want to fuck anything up. I'd read just keep you as friend than fuck anything up."

"Maybe I was just waiting for the right person to come along," he said gently as he reached up with his tied hands to touch your cheek, "when I kissed you that night, I didn't intend for to start and stop that night. I. Like. You. I don't know how else to make that clear."

"Me?" you asked in a surprise as he laughed and nodded, "Javi, I...I like you a lot too. I have for a long time."

Before he could respond, the door to the basement opened with a loud bang and a gruff voice calling out to the two of you. As best as he could, Javi pulled you towards him and kissed you. You were surprised for a moment but quickly melted into his touch. It was easy to get lost in him, his touch, scent, taste - all of it.

"Hey!" the man pulled you apart as looked at Javi with wide eyes. But he shot you a wink before the man continued on in Spanish, "knock that shit off."

"No...we don't speak Spanish," he lied as the man frowned at the two of you, "tourists. We're tourists from America."

"Tourists?" he replied as Javi nodded.

"Why are we here?" you played along, feigning innocence, "we just want to see the city."

The man had fire in his eyes as he stated spewing at the two of you. Of course you understand every word, but you weren't about to let him know that. Instead you put on a confused face as you hoped that neither of you would blow the little charade.

As he went on and you remained silent, he eventually gave up. For a little added effect you'd let some tears roll down your cheeks, which were partly from the stress of the situation and partly acting.

He left for a minute and the two of you remained silent as Javi squeezed your hand for reassurance. You weren't risking anything just yet. After some time he came back, stomping and huffing, muttering to himself under his breath.

Before either of you could question anything, he untied the zip ties from your wrists and hoisted you to your feet.

"Go," he said gruffly in accented English, "get out."

You reached for Javi's hand as you ran up the rickety stairs, holding onto it for dear life. Neither of you stopped until you were outside in the daylight and a safe distance away, almost back into the city center.

When you finally felt somewhat safe again, you doubled over to catch your breath, almost not able to believe your good luck.

"That man had to be a huge idiot if he believed us so easy," you said as Javi nodded, "good thinking, Peña. I'm glad it worked."

"I told you it would," he smirked lightly, "but now there's one more thing I need to do."

"What?" you asked but were quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to yours. It didn't take long to react, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you. When you break apart for a breath of air, you couldn't help but grin at him, "please don't leave next time."

"I won't," you promised softly, "I'm not going anywhere."

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years

Text

in defense of Din’s subdued reaction to losing the kid...

gif by @quantam-widow

I know we were all thinking it. We got a 2 second reaction shot to the destruction of the Razor Crest (may she forever rest in peace), but then, Grogu gets taken, and... nothing?

What the fuck, Din? we all protest. That’s your baby on that ship! Don’t you care? Scream, curse, kick a rock, cry, make a fist, something!!

I will acknowledge that so far, the show has been excellent with giving us emotional payoff, am I right? I mean, just today we got Din laughing, twice. Twice in a row. I honestly never thought we’d see that. There have been so many excellent, precious soft!Din moments this season, and they all feel deliciously earned.

So, from a meta POV, I guess I’m saying that I have faith in the writers to get it right, and in Pedro to deliver. Duh.

In universe, though, I think it’s fair to point out the obvious - that Din is a pretty reserved guy. He’s much more of a thinker than a feeler. He’s used to keeping things bottled up, and I would even argue that his life often depends on his ability to dissociate from his emotions. Din’s entire journey so far has been about how one little baby yodito shakes his worldview to its very foundations. He’s getting there, but it’s a slow process.

And also, consider this - we haven’t seen Din alone yet, not since Grogu was taken. For a guy who lives a guarded life literally encased in fucking armor, any display of emotion is going to be carefully protected until he’s in private.

But anyway, Din is detached, rational, a little emotionally constipated, and definitely comfortable in a stressful situation. A true ISTP if you ask me (yeah, I know you didn’t, but whatever). Often, it seems that these cool headed, logical types who have never ruffled a feather over anything in their lives are the least adept at handling genuine fear. In other words, when panic does strike, it strikes them hard.

And guys, Din was definitely panicking during this episode.

He’s clearly unsettled from the jump - that outburst of “dank farrik!” in the cockpit sells it, and his distress only becomes more obvious from there. Talking out loud, trying to convince himself that the best thing for Grogu is for him to be trained as a Jedi. Reminding himself of the creed. His overt caution as they approach the seeing stone. His impatience, “Are you seeing anything??”

Then there’s the effects of long term stress. Sure, a bounty hunter in the outer rim doesn’t exactly live an easy life, but Din is definitely used to the drama being on his terms. Compare Din’s body language in the opening scene of season one to when Boba confronts him in chapter fourteen. You can just feel the anxiety, the weariness, the frustration. Din has been on the run for months now, constantly looking over his shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. Notice how he even startles at Fennec’s voice? Season one Din would never have given that much away, regardless of the situation. Long term stress has clearly taken a toll on him.

So we have unsettled, stressed out Din in an emotionally charged situation. He’s exhausted, he’s scared, he’s desperate. This scenario is a recipe for even the most level-headed of adrenaline junkies to loose their cool, and that’s exactly what happens to Din. He panics, and he makes some pretty big fuckups because of it. Leaving Grogu unprotected, twice. Trying three different times to break through that “force field,” even when he knew he couldn’t. Dropping that jetpack and then just forgetting about it (I know we were all screaming about that one, or at least, I was).

So, fear is a positive feedback loop. Those neurotransmitters that do us good in a bad situation - raising heart rate, narrowing focus, shunting blood to the muscles - can also be detrimental if we get too high of a dose - tachypnea and tachycardia, inability to think critically and see the big picture, lack of blood and oxygen to the brain. Epinephrine, in particular, even inhibits the laying down of new memory pathways. In other words, stress leads to poor performance, and poor performance leads to more stress, which leads to... you get the idea.

Then, in the middle of all this chaos, they fucking blast the Razor Crest.

More epinephrine, more cortisol, more stress.

By the end of it all, Din is a fucking shitstorm of stress hormones and pent up emotions. Notice how he seems to be on autopilot in the immediate aftermath, robotically scanning the ashes of the Crest for anything that might be left intact. Notice how empty his voice is when he says, “the child is gone.” This is a dead man walking. Din has nothing left. His whole life has just gone up in smoke, and he can do nothing about it.

Guys, Din is holding onto his sanity by a fucking thread in this scene. “The child is gone,” he says, like he’s reminding himself, grounding himself in his shitty reality. He’s stunned.

And helpless. There’s literally nothing he can do for Grogu. He has no ship, no credits, no resources, nothing to bargain with, nothing to offer. Din literally cannot allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. He’s just got to focus on surviving this very shitty day.

Then, Boba Fett upholds his end of the deal, and suddenly, Din has something to hold onto. An ally, a badass friend, some hope. I don’t think Boba shows Din that chain code in order to verify his claim on the armor - he’s already wearing it, for godssake. I think Boba shows him the code in order to catch Din’s attention - hey friend, I know you’re hurting, but I’m a man of my word. When I make a vow, I keep it. Let’s regroup and go find your kid.

And Din would totally latch onto that. A fighting chance? Din fucking leaps at it. There’s a job to do. A kid to save. All of those stress hormones are going to keep on stewing, because Din has never really come down from his adrenaline high.

It’s like this in real life, too. There isn’t time to be afraid. There isn’t time to be sad, or second-guess, or say, oh how terrible, or wonder what if it doesn’t work? There’s just you and the job, and if you are the only thing standing between life and death, you will put everything else aside and do what you have to do, for as long as you have to do it.

And that’s where Din is at this moment. He’s running on the fumes of his adrenaline, all tempered focus, all strategy and no bullshit.

Emotional shock, my therapist buddy calls it. Apparently, it’s normal. Expected, even.

But guys, the fallout of this kind of crazy ass adrenaline high is insanely intense. I’m talking collapse to the floor, legs won't hold you, trembling, crying so hard you sling snot, shuddering breaths, stare dead-eyed and spent at the ceiling because you’re just too wiped out to even sleep kind of intense.

And then, after the breakdown comes the angst. The detailed thinking. The oh god, what if this had happened, or, should I have done that instead? It seems like every emotion that gets put on the back burner in the moment comes back to bite you with twofold intensity when all is said and done.

In other words, Din is definitely going to feels some things .A lot of very intense things. A reckoning is coming, my dudes. Trust me. It’s just not quite here yet.

That being said, here’s what I can expect from Din going forward:

Just like he’s is slow to acknowledge his growing parental feelings for Grogu, I think Din’s going to be slow at processing his grief at Grogu’s loss. In the next episode, he’s got plenty to distract him - getting together his hit team to take back the kid and coordinating an attack on the empire.

However, I do think we’ll get a slow moment with Din, probably sometime at the beginning of next week’s episode if the pattern holds. I doubt it’s the full-blown breakdown that we’re all needing, but I’m willing to bet money that we’ll see Din grappling with the fact that his kid is gone. I also think that badass beskar murder machine Din from chapter three will resurface. Stress and desperation make us do irrational things, and anger is one of the stages of grief that Din will inevitably have to work through (I think he’s flickering between denial and bargaining for now).

But then, after Din gets Grogu back? I think that’s we’ll have our big, dearly earned emotional payoff.

For one thing, Din won’t be able to deny his feelings anymore. He wants to keep this kid, it’s so very obvious. Losing him just forces it all to the forefront.

And then the relief/joy/regret/guilt that Din is going to feel once he’s got Grogu back? Not to mention the physical exhaustion? All of the fear/terror/angst/grief that he ignored in favor of just going pedal to the metal, guns blazing, get the kid or die trying? That shit’s going to crash into him with all the subtly of a fucking tsunami. I guarantee you, we’re going to get some sort of confession, or adoption vow, or face revel, or other sort of profound softness from Dad!Din in the falling action of this season (At least, I hope we get it at the end this season but I wouldn’t put it past them to kick it into the premier of season three, just for pacing reasons, but then again, I obviously have trust issues).

Personally, I would love to see Din grappling with the long-term fallout of losing Grogu - night terrors, guilt, paranoia, etc. That’s probably the stuff of fanfiction - mandalorians don't have nightmares on screen, surely - but still, some lingering effects Grogu’s kidnapping would be realistic, and I would absolutely live for it.

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fallgourd-float · 2 years

Text

There is exactly seven thousand steps from my house to the old oak.

If I walk the right pace, at least.

Ellis rarely says anything when it comes to my pace, but she thinks loud enough. And because she thinks, the trees hear her. And because I hear the trees, I hear what Ellis is thinking.

There is a run down and overgrown temple of Menphina on the way. I used to hide there when I was younger. They say it is an old altar of Nophica, but I know the truth. The lilies whispered it to me.

When the world was still new and before Gelmorra came to be, the people there worshipped a woman akin to a spirit, the moon, and most of the aspects that came with it: innate femininity, water, sexuality, as well as darkness and the security it brings.

When Gridania was founded, the old altar was found again, and in a patriotic effort (as well as a feat of idle carelessness) the feminine figure distinguished amidst the rubble was attributed to Nophica. Menphina was not as popular then, attributed to poachers the city wanted nothing to do with.

I thought we had much in common, that figure and I.

I thought that very thought to be arrogant, too, blasphemy, even. And then I remembered our gods did not live in idols, and I felt a little better.

Considered a guardian of earth thriving on sunlight as most flowers do, when in reality growth was found in the dank and the damp;

Remembered when convenient, forgotten when convenient, never aptly named nor understood;

Worshipped as herald and receptacle of care in generosity, rejected as instrument of jealousy even in defense.

I talked to the defaced idol as I would a friendly elder.

No, that's a lie. I pretended to address it as I would a friendly elder, when in truth I was talking to myself without admitting it. I tended to the plants surrounding the old steps because I was too cowardly to tend to the self, in turn. I thought that in gratitude, she would make me feel better, or impart life-changing wisdom.

I would later realize that it was the first time I did something selfishly without harming the people around me. Without harming the self.

I did not like it.

It made me feel different in a way I did not like. Ellis doesn't say I have a problem with change, but she thinks it without knowing. I know because I hear the trees and they hear Ellis. She knows how I am without roots.

And I feel most uprooted when I feel release without violence.

Without violence, I feel like I am closer to perfection, in a way that only man can achieve; by way of culture. Closer to perfection, through Gridania's idea of servitude.

To tend to nature and the self in glee. Forgetting that we first tended to it in fear and reverence.

I do not like glee. Glee is a numb, unintelligent feeling. It makes me numb. It makes me unintelligent.

It is not good to be numb, when you're me. I still feel what is happening, I do. I simply can't respond to it.

I become a plaything, that way. For other men. I'd much rather be a tool of the Gods. I can not experience Glee. It makes me numb.

I don't go to the old altar anymore.

There is seven thousand steps from my house to the old oak. Ellis thinks I walk too fast.

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xeo-kunsatan · 3 years

Text

Beast Choices Chapter#5 Sister Promise (Special Part 2)

★-†Before starting this chapter, I'll recommend you to have any snack with you because this chapter is going for long, without nothing more to say.. Enjoy the Chapter!†-★

The Next Day

Pacopolis Airport 6:00 am

All the Spheros family with the Plizetxki sisters taked a Plane to Pac Mexico

They, except by Rotunda.

During the travel Stratos had to sit next to Yeena where both meet eachother.

Stratos: So... You're Muriel's Older Sister?

Yeena: That's right, Yeena Plizetxki

Stratos: Stratos Spheros... Uhm for how Long time you didn't saw your sister?...

Yeena: i don't remember so well.. i kinda think 5 or 6 years but we were still in contact.

Stratos: Wow.. that's too long time.

Yeena: I Know we both had to focus in our own careers, we both have doctorates, me on medicine and she in psychology.

Stratos: so, you're a doctor in medicine?

Yeena: That's right.

Stratos: How many lifes did you saved?

Yeena: Hmm.. interesting question.. I saved 10 Pac persons in total, it's not much but I'm satisfied with that.

Stratos: You sound like a really Good Doctor.

Yeena: I'm not a perfect doctor because I didn't managed to save at least 5 Pac persons, I know it's less but I'm not happy for it because of how much the families of the deceased suffers for them.

Stratos: That most be frustrating and hard for you, did ya?

Yeena: It is, for it I'm always trying hard in doing my best in my work to save more lifes.

Stratos: That's really good.

Yeena: And tell me about you?

Stratos: Well I'm actually working as officiant in a company

Yeena; That sounds good, good luck with that, maybe you can be a good president for Pacopolis.

Some Hours of Travel Later..

Pac Mexico City/CDMX

12:02 PM

The Family have finally arrived in PacMexico city airport and then taked 2 Taxis (Stratos, Rotunda and Santana in one, Betrayus, Muriel and Yeena and other) to the hotel where they would stay, all of them were so tired of the travel.

Muriel: Dude I'm Hungry...

Betrayus: You too, Mury?

Yeena: Yeah.. I'm Hungry too...

Stratos: what if we go to dinner, the Hotel has an international food banquet at this hour.

Rotunda: Ohh~♪ in that case, for me it's fine, let's go Stratos.

Stratos: Yes Mom

*Both leave*

Betrayus:*mocks* Ohh~♪ Yes Mom I'll go with you~

Santana:*chuckles* Betrayus!

Muriel: Admit it.. it's funny hehehe..

Yeena: hehehe what we are laughing for?

B&M: Nothing~...

Yeena: uhh.. okay?

After the dinner the group went to rest to their respective rooms by couples: Rotunda and Stratos, Betrayus and Muriel and Yeena and Santana.

Pac Mexico City

8:25 pm

Room 69

Yeena: Are you Serious Muriel!? Oh my gosh I feel so honored!...

Muriel: Yep Girl, this is more special because you always where there for me and never gave me the back as my father and Yoona,so tell me.. would you accept to be my godmother?

Yeena: Y-Yes!! Thank you Muriel!

Muriel: No Yeena, Thank you very much for all you did for me.

Yeena; *sobs of Happiness* Muriel.. I love you.

Muriel:*hugs Yeena* and I love you too Yeena.

Santana:*sniff* you girls are so touching~

Muriel: Heheh what can I said? Yeena was always being the emotional one.

Yeena: and you the rude Muriel.

Santana: Awww...

The night passed out..

The next day, The group taked different Taxis to Xochimilco, The girls where in the same taxi with Roxy preparing Muriel for the wedding.

Roxy: and Done~, girl estás que ardes~.

Santana: I agree with you girl

Muriel: Thank you Roxy.

Yeena: What did she said?

Roxy: Oh sorry, I said girl you're in fire but in Spanish.

Yeena: Oh I see, sorry I just speak English and Korean.

Roxy: understandable.

Muriel: oh gosh.. Thank you girls.. I'm so excited but I'm nervous too.

Santana: Don't worry, just be yourself, my brother likes you as you are.

Muriel: I know.. it's just..

Suddenly Muriel's hand was trembling and becoming fluffy, Yeena noticed that and holed up her hand to comfort her as well covering her hand.

Muriel:*whispers* thanks Yeena..

Yeena:*whispers as well* you're welcome..

The taxi finally arrived to the place.

Roxy: And we arrived first than the boys!

M&S: Oh Yuss Girl!

Yeena: Excuse me.. Ms Taxi girl.

Roxy: Roxy, at your service.

Yeena: Ms Roxy, is there a restroom around here?

Roxy: it's in front here.

Yeena: Alright, thanks Roxy.

Santana: where are you going?

Yeena:.. I need to speak with my sister in private

Santana: Oh, okay

Muriel: Where are we goi-

Yeena Quickly taked Muriel to the restroom, she seemed so nervous and worried for her sister.

Muriel: Yeena.. what's wrong?..

Yeena: Muriel.. please take this.. *she said while she was holding a peace brazalet*

Muriel: a Peace Brazalet?, For what...

Yeena: too avoid that you can't transform into.. you know..you don't want to scare your future husband, did you?.

Muriel: Hehehe, what are you saying? My lover knows about my secret.

Yeena: W-What!? Oh no no this is bad?

Muriel: Bad for what? He accepts me with all and puppy, even so.. he has a secret like us but I can't tell you exactly what it is.

Yeena: Well... that's so good to hear but surely others would surely be afraid of you.

Muriel: Yeena, do you actually think that I can't lost control and transform into the puppy?...

Yeena: Well yes, I'm afraid that if they know about that would surely kill you as many did it with our race..

Muriel: Uhuh... And?

Yeena: And... And..I don't want to lose you, Muriel! You're the only thing I have of.. mother.. *sobs* Oh Muriel.. you're all her....

Muriel:*sighs* Yeena.. *Hugs her* you're all for me too, but you're underestimating me.. I know you want to.. take care of me and you have no idea about how much I appreciate that..but I can take care of myself without or with the puppy inside me... That's all thanks to my psychological career and most special.. you.

Yeena: Muriel.. but aren't you nervous?

Muriel: I Know I'm nervous but having you with me and knowing I choosed the best person for me comforts me a lot.. so don't worry I'll be okay

Yeena: Promise me you will be okay..

Muriel: I'll promise Yeena.

After that promise, Betrayus and his brother and mother have finally arrived, Betrayus saw Muriel went out the restroom completely brilliant with her black wedding dress and holding a lot of red roses.

Rotunda: Agh, black? You're wrong, this is your wedding not a Halloween party..

Yeena: Hey! How dare yo-

Muriel: Calm down Yeena, I'll take care of this,.. indeed is our wedding not yours, and as our wedding we can dress as we like if we want it.

Betrayus: OHHHHHHHH!!

Roxy: UUUUUUYYY!!!

Muriel: Oh my..

Rotunda: How Dare you!?

Stratos: Hey!!.

Santana: Admit it Brother.. Muriel is right, behave yourself Mom this is the wedding of one of your children so please I recommend you to be respectful.

Rotunda: Santana! I am your mother, you have no rights to speak with me in that tone.

Santana: and you have no rights to judge my Brother and his Bride in their wedding, or you stay with us and be respectful or you can go back to the hotel.

Rotunda:...hmp.. Fine.

Roxy: Alright Toxic Family, let's go!.

The Group went to the trajinera and Roxy started driving while she was Telling them legends about Xochimilco, to then after a long ride around the lake, they stopped in the Creepy Doll Island, There was a sorcerer waiting for them

Stratos; Wait a Minute... From what religion is this guy.

Sorcerer: A Satanist one

Rotunda: What!?.

Sorcerer: Just Kidding.. uhum

Betrayus and Muriel walked together in front the sorcerer waiting for the prayers.

Sorcerer: Ladies and gentlemen.. we are reunited here to unite this 2 souls in marriage... Before starting this is there anyone who wants to avoid the union of this souls, speak now or shut up forever.

Rotunda: Me!

Stratos: Mom!!

Y, S & R: Ugh.. Sit Down old Lady!!

Sorcerer: Well.. uhum Betrayus Spheros, do you accept Muriel Plizetxki as you wife and love her, in the health and the illness until the death.

Betrayus: with all my heart and for all she did for me... She is the woman who make me get up..for being there were almost no one was for me, For it.. I Do.

Sorcerer: Muriel Plizetxki, do you accept Betrayus Spheros as your Husband and love him, in the health and the illness until the death.

Muriel: My First and number 1 patient, for accepting me in your heart and make me get up too, because our imperfections make us unperfectedly perfect.. I do.

Sorcerer: perfect, with the blessing of the Moon.. I declare you Husband and Wife, you can kiss the bride now.

Betrayus and Muriel selled their union with a Kiss while the others (except Rotunda) where clapping completely happy for them, after that Muriel threw the flowers and surprisely it was catched... By a Squirrel.

Muriel: Well at least the squirrel will be happy.

Betrayus: That's something good~.

Santana: Dank Squirrel....

After many hours of party and that Yeena ended falling in the lake but she was fine because she can swim,

and a lot of drinks, the wedding finished and the group went back to the hotel, all of them completely drunk except for Rotunda which went to a room alone, Betrayus and Muriel went to their room to start the fun while the rest.. Uhh..

Well Stratos went to Santana and Yeena's Room, Yeena was the only one there, both were so drunk so they started their fun too.. Santana was still in the Taxi with Roxy, both where drunk.

Santana: Hehehe it was fun..

Roxy: Heheheh are you sure you don't want to go to your room?..

Santana: Heheheh no.. I want to stay with you~ *Kisses Roxy*

Roxy: Hmmm~ Good girl~

And yes they have their fun too, don't ask how.

2 Days later, Yeena went back to Pac Korea, Santana went to work in Pac Tokyo, Betrayus, Stratos, Rotunda and Muriel went back to Pac USA to Continue their lifes, Specially the couple which would continue their lifes as know a happily married couple.

3 Months Later...

Muriel: Hey Sunlight, i have a gift for you~

Betrayus: what kind of gift?~

Muriel:*gives Betrayus a tiny Box*

Betrayus: hmm i wonder what is it

Betrayus opened a box and take out his rabbit plush but repaired

Betrayus: Aww Muriel, you found it! And did you repaired it too?

Muriel: yes and take a look inside the box

Betrayus: Huh?

Betrayus looked inside the box, it was a note Wich says "Hey Daddy" next to a positive pregnancy test

Betrayus: Oh my!... Really?...

Muriel: Heheh Yes... Surprise Daddy!!

Betrayus: Mury! *Hugs her* I'm so so Happy!!

Muriel: we're going to be parents! And as celebration.. It's movie Time!!.

Betrayus: Yeah Girl!!.. uhm Mury can you still can transform into animals but without affecting the baby?.

Muriel: That's right, you want me to transform into a Rabbit?

Betrayus: Yes :3!

Muriel transformed herself into a pregnant and Fluffy Arctic Hare to then Betrayus taking her carefully and watch movies while he was petting her.

Betrayus: Aww just look at you, you're so small and fluffy~ *scratches behind her bunny ears*

Muriel: Hmm~♥ *Twitching paw* more there please~

Betrayus: *pets her bunny belly* Aww who is my fluwy gurl?, you are!~♪

Muriel: Heheheh Sunlight~♪ that tickles!~

Meanwhile..

Yeena had left the restroom of his work with a positive pregnancy test.

Yeena: Should I tell him?... Uhh Nah..

Too long travel and i was so drunk that day and if i can remember there where more guys around there so it can be from anyone else... Oh man what a dumb i am!

She said while she went to her car to drive off completely mad

Yeena:...*sighs*...Shit.

Yeena drived to a mall to buy some home stuff to then went to a building.

At Opening her apartment she was received by her only fluffy pal.

It was a Maine Coon Cat.

Min-Ki: Mreww~

Yeena: Aww Hello big girl *pets her*... Good news... We will have new pal here..

Yeena said to her cat while she was holding her stomach. She was nervous but as well she was excited for being mother.

To be Continued..

#pacman and the ghostly adventures #pmatga

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littlemisslol-fic · 3 years

Text

Summary: Two years after the events of Barviel Keep, Varian has tried to adapt to the expectations brought by being a King’s Ward, with mixed results. Haunted by ghosts, Varian is forced to face the demons he tried to leave behind in Bayangor when his abdication is forcibly stopped by a third party, out for revenge against the Bayan Royal bloodline. On the run, with few allies left to turn to, Varian finds himself chasing a ghost through a series of tests that only a true heir of Demanitus could ever hope to pass.But the shadows are ever present, looming and dark, and not everything is as simple as it might seem.

Notes: Magic doesn't like to give up its secrets. Sacrifices must be made.

Varian almost sobbed in relief when the first torch sprang back to life.

Light, flickering and dull but there, began to creep into the hallway again. Varian caught sight of Rapunzel and Eugene, the two of them looking stricken at the sight of the massive pile of stone and earth that was covering their only way of accessing the surface. The torchlight played across their faces, weak but enough that Varian could see the way Rapunzel’s eyes were wide in fear, the way Eugene’s jaw was set. Varian knew he mustn’t look much better he could feel the way dust had settled onto his cloths and skin in a thin layer.

"Ah, Sun above," Eugene cursed, "We just had to go down the creepy staircase, didn't we?" He approached the blockage, gently pushing at it with a flat palm. It didn't budge, the stone firmly wedged.

"I don't think we can get out that way," Rapunzel said, her voice nervous. "Unless we find something to leverage some of the rock out of the way."

Varian looked between them, listening as Eugene kept pushing at the rock and Rapunzel fretted, before turning and looking down the hall. Ruddiger weaved around his feet before climbing up onto his shoulders, the raccoon looking down the hallway with his master. It seemed endless, the stone leading off into the inky black that could only come from being underground, but something about it was off. He watched the bangs in front of his face flutter a little, a subtle air current flowing from the dark.

"Guys," he got their attention, "There's wind."

"What?" Eugene asked. Varian turned to him, pointing down the hall.

"There's an air current," he said, "Which means there must be an opening down there somewhere."

Eugene sniffed at the air, nodding. "What are you thinking?" he asked, turning to his wife.

"It could be our only chance," Rapunzel said grimly, "I don't think we're moving these rocks any time soon."

Varian twisted at his gloves nervously, looking out into the dark. Just because it was the best idea didn't mean he was super excited to wander into the depths on a hunch. Eugene shouldered their bag, which had made it with only a few small scrapes and burns, and slapped the boy on the back.

"Alrighty then," he said with forced cheer. "Let's get going then, because I don't want to freak anyone out, but my skin will get pale if we stay down here for too long, and I will cry about it."

That did it- Varian and Rapunzel both snorted, snickering as the tension finally broke. Varian couldn’t help but be grateful for it; they’d been in more dire straits before, and they’d made it out. A little levity was exactly what they needed.

"Come on," Rapunzel said, taking the lead. "Let's see how far this goes."

Varian followed behind her, making his way through the pitch-black hallway. Torches on the wall burst to life as they walked, snuffing out once they were a few meters ahead. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust; as they walked, they left a trail of dark footprints, the onyx stone under the layer of white dust shining in the dim light. The halls were cold, freezing even… but the chill crawling up Varian’s spine had more to do with the looming dread, then it did the temperature. The caves felt oppressive, dank and musty and dark; if Varian didn’t know better he’d swear the walls were shrinking, threatening to crush them all.

They walked for what felt like hours, taking short breaks but still working forward. It was hard to gauge time in the hall, with no sunlight to work with. Was it evening on the surface yet? It was midafternoon when they'd descended, surely it would be getting dark up top. Time felt useless in a place with no sunlight.

Varian shuddered. It was cold, this deep underground. He quickly did some quick math in his head- if the stairs had been about a hundred feet long, at an angle of around thirty-seven degrees, multiply by… they were about sixty feet underground. The thought made him colder than the chilled air around them.

Varian looked up from the ground at the sound of dripping water, the echoes of it loud in the distance. Echoes like that… indicated a bigger space. Somewhere bigger than the halls, at least. He began to pick up his pace, smelling the air. It smelt a bit less stale, a little more like actual air and not just dust. Varian squinted through the dark, seeing something finally emerge through the ink.

As he kept pace, he could see that the hallway ended abruptly, a large, open doorway of iron and marble standing tall. It was gossamer white, standing out in the darkness like a lighthouse. Varian approached it with caution, eyes on the ground to look for another tripwire or some other type of trap. He didn't see anything, thankfully, and took a timid step into the room beyond the arches.

It was a wide-open space, at least thirty meters across; the ceiling towered high above Varian's head, so tall that it seemed to vanish into the darkness. Torches burst to life, just as they had in the hallway, but in such a large space they didn't do much for keeping the shadows at bay. Across the vast expanse of the room was a series of large tiles, half meter squares of polished stone with odd, raised grout in between the slabs. The entire space reeked of musty air and dust— it took everything in Varian not to sneeze violently.

Eugene didn't have such hesitations, sneezing loudly into the room. It echoed, disturbing dust and dirt from the ceiling and making particles rain down. Varian squinted in the dark; even though their eyes had more than adjusted, the murky black was hard to see through, but he could still tell that there was something off about this whole space. One of the tiles, in the far distance, seemed to be missing, but the black spot it left behind looked nearly... hm....

"I don't like this," said Eugene, echoing Varian's thoughts. "We already know the place is rigged. A space this big with nothing in it? Suspicious."

"Maybe it was a ballroom?" Rapunzel asked, trying for optimistic. "This place is defiantly big enough to live in, maybe they all just moved away!"

Varian paced parallel to the door, scanning the ground. The couple behind him continued to throw out theories, from supply rooms to meeting halls, but the alchemist had a theory. He found what he was looking for, stooping down to pick it up, and returned to the others.

"Oh maybe it was an art gallery!" Rapunzel cooed, "Wouldn't that be amazing?"

Varian looked out over the floor, noting where the odd tile out was. The rock in his hand was heavy; it took a solid amount of effort for Varian to reel back and throw it across the room, launching the stone at good few meters away. Eugene yelped when he did, saying something about traps, but Varian watched with satisfaction as the stone sailed through the air and slamming into the tiled floor with a bang.

The noise was loud enough to echo in the room. The boy grit his teeth against the sudden burst of sound after such a long time with nothing but soft voices for company, but grinned as the stone punched through the floor tile it landed on, shattering it and caving it inward.

The whole tile fell inward, revealing that the floor was built above a gaping expanse of darkness. Eugene and Rapunzel blinked in shock as the tile fell away, showing what, exactly, the trap was.

"The floor's rigged," Varian said, a hint of smugness in his voice. "I think it's hollow, underneath. Like in Flynn Rider-"

"Book number eight: The Count of Eskea!" Eugene cut in, "Kid, you're a genius!" He paused, tapping at his chin. "Hm, how are we going to get across?"

"There must be a safe path through," Rapunzel mused, "But I don't think we have enough rocks to find it... maybe we could try and find another way?"

"We've been down here for too long already," Varian argued. "If my mother is down here, then we're wasting time. She may have heard the traps go off and bolted already." His stomach sank at the thought of justmissing her, but he shrugged it off; if they'd missed her then he'd just have to chase after her again. "We can test the floor by being careful."

Eugene made a rough cough, shaking the duffel bag as he did so. "Cough-NotMuchFoodLeft-Cough," he added, not looking Rapunzel in the eye. The princess looked between them, sighing when she saw she was outvoted.

"Fine," she grumbled, like it pained her to give ground. "Fine. But we're going to look around for more rocks first, and only try it once we get a good amount— fair?"

Varian nodded, already looking back down the tunnel they'd come from.

"Fair," he agreed.

Thankfully, with how the tunnels had fallen into neglect and disrepair, it was easy enough to gather up a few good stones in a blanket for testing. Within minutes they were standing at the threshold of where the floor, and therefore the pit underneath, began. The three of them looked at it in apprehension. Eugene took a stone, throwing it down onto the first tile. They all jumped back as it punched straight through, the brittle tile falling away like crumbling cards; the stone fragments disappeared into the darkness below, vanishing without so much as a thud.

They repeated the process again, to the same result. The third time fared better, with the stone hitting the tile but staying in place. This was their starting point, it seemed, but they wouldn't know for certain until someone actually stepped out and tested it. There was an unspoken tension in the air, all three of them nervous to take the first step. The alchemist finally sighed, knowing they wouldn't get anywhere unless one of them did it.

Varian finally started to move, only for Rapunzel to throw out an arm in front of him.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Her voice was tense, frantic. "Maybe Eugene or I should go first; it's dangerous."

Varian scoffed at that, pushing her arm down. "I'll be fine-" he started to argue, only to be cut off.

"-And besides, we're older, we weigh more, so it only makes sense," Rapunzel prattled on, obviously grasping at straws.

Varian pushed at her arm again. He was fed up with this behavior from her; he wasn't invalid, no matter what she seemed to think. Poor Ruddiger seemed to be on her side, tugging at Varian's pant leg to stop him as well. The boy sighed, shaking his head and gently tugging free.

"I'm going first," he said firmly, "Because it's my fault we're down here. And I weigh the least, so I'm least likely to break it."

And like that, he looked her dead in the eye, and took a step forward.

Even if he wanted to act brave, Varian couldn't deny how he held his breath as his foot made contact with marble. He sent a small prayer to the Sun above that he wasn't about to bite it out of sheer spite— but that breath came out in a relieved sigh when the tile remained intact under him.

"See?" he shrugged, going for nonchalant. "Easy. Just another..." he looked to the tiles, counting a five-by-ten grid, "Nine more. Nothing to it."

Rapunzel was pale, her hands outstretched like she was waiting for him to fall. Varian ignored her, using another rock to smash the tile directly in front of him. In theory, he thought to himself, the right one will be one to the left, one to the right, or one of the three in front of me, including diagonals.

One by one he tested the tiles, smashing through three until the one on the left-diagonal proved to be solid. Varian gently moved forward, hopping from the first tile to the second.

Two down, eight to go.

He could hear Rapunzel and Eugene following him, Eugene on the tile behind Varian with the rock collection, and Rapunzel taking up the rear. Every tile she passed she drew an X with her chalk, marking the correct tile should they ever need to come back the same way. Varian sighed, holding out his hand to Eugene, and nodding when the man wordlessly passed him another stone.

The third tile was directly in front of him, the fourth diagonal to the right. Fifth and sixth were both forward, seventh and eighth a pair of contrasting diagonals. Nine was a step forward. With every jump Varian began to feel more confident, holding his breath until the tile under him proved to be safe. The alchemist did his best to keep calm, working methodically through the choices.

At long last there was only one more tile to hop before they would reach the other side of the pit. Varian could see a doorway nearby, a wide, gaping hole in the earth much like they one they'd come from. He paused for a second, turning a little when he heard Rapunzel's voice echo through the massive cavern.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

Varian scowled, whipping around on his heel to glare at her. "Are you kidding?" He threw his hands up in the air, "We're so close and you still want to turn back?"

Rapunzel sighed, shaking her head. Varian felt his hackles raise when she opened her mouth again, but shrank back when their third member finally lost his patience with them.

"Guys!" Eugene snapped, "Is this really the time for this?"

The boy sucked in a breath through his teeth. Eugene was right, this wasn't the place. He shuffled a bit, turning around-

And stepped on the wrong tile.

Varian shrieked as the floor gave way under his foot, sending him toppling to the floor. His hands flew out to grab himself, his entire body dropping down into the void above and only stopping when he latched onto the sharp edges of the broken tile. The teenager hissed in pain as the razor edges cut through his gloves; he let out a primal noise of fear when his fingers began to slip on the polished stone.

His legs swung wildly in the void, kicking frantically in open air in an attempt to somehow push himself back up. Varian's heart beat at a mile a minute, a racing beat in his ear as he clung to the ledge with all the strength he had left.

"Guys!" he screamed, "Help, help would be very much appreciated-" His voice pitched higher than he'd hit in years, at least since he was fourteen, the panic making him squeaky in pure distress.

Eugene was the first to move, already running the second Varian dropped. His knees slammed into the tile; the man skid to a stop in front of the drop, dropping everything to grab onto Varian in a rush of panic.

"Hold on!" Eugene's hands grabbed him around the wrists, holding tight, "I got you, kid!"

There was a shower of stones that fell past Varian as Eugene grabbed him, probably their spares. Varian didn't think about it, instead focusing on clinging to Eugene's forearms with all the energy he had left; his stomach swooped uncomfortably as Eugene hoisted him up and out of the pit.

Varian felt his knees hit tile and nearly wept. He pressed his hands onto the stone, reveling in the feeling of solid floor underneath him as he tried to get is panic back under control. He shuddered, avoiding thinking about the drop he’d almost had at any cost, and slamming his eyes shut to block everything out.

"Thank the Sun," he gasped, "No more traps after this, never again. I want to go to my lab and live there forever-"

Eugene patted him on the back in consolation, a grounding touch as Varian wheezed into the floor. Ruddiger scampered around Rapunzel's skirts, worming his way between Varian's head and the floor with a concerned noise. The boy gently scooped up his pet, forcing himself up onto his knees. He was met with Eugene's wide eyes, the man looking shell shocked.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the hand on Varian's shoulder wrapping into a one armed hug. The alchemist could feel the way Eugene's hands shook though his cloak. "Sun, that was close."

Varian coughed out a little, hysterical laugh, leaning into the hug. "Good catch," is all he said in return, a huff of strained air that he pressed into Eugene's coat. The fabric was rough under his cheek but he clung to it nonetheless, shuddering. Under the stink of travel and smoke, he caught the smallest scent of the soap that was used in the palace laundry, and he tried to focus on it. Ruddiger was warm in his arms, but a small chitter from the raccoon drew Varian into looking up from where he was hiding himself.

Rapunzel stood nearby, pale as a sheet. Varian saw the way she shook, her hands clenched tightly at her side. She looked like she'd stared death itself in the face. It made a chill run up his spine, the sight of her so shaken, so unnerved. Varian pushed himself up and off the floor; he could see how she hesitated in trying to reach for him after the spat, and wasn’t sure exactly how to react. Hell, she'd caused him to almost fall; if she hadn't been trying to convince him to turn back, he never would have stumbled— but also all he could see was his sister in need of comfort. He could put aside the arguments for a second, couldn't he?

"Rapunzel," He held out his hand to her, offering. "I'm okay, nothing happened..."

She seemed hesitant, her hands twitching, but to Varian's surprise she only drew him into a quick hug. He felt a long kiss get pressed into his hair, shaking breaths ruffling the strands.

"I'm okay," he said again, at a loss for words. He'd never been good at comforting others, always awkward and stumbling, pointing out the obvious and being unable to see beyond that— but Rapunzel seemed to understand, the woman hugging him tight one last time before letting him go. It still made something in his skin crawl to have her coddling him, a thousand ants buried in his flesh as she babied him.

She clung a little tighter when he tried to pull away, only letting go when Varian coughed into his hand.

"One more to go," he said, trying for a joke.

Eugene huffed a laugh into his hand, covering it up with a yawn when Rapunzel glared at her husband. He elected to shrink under her ire, handing Varian another rock.

The alchemist took it, moving back to the front of the line. He brought it down on the left diagonal space, sighing with relief when it stayed in one piece. He took the last hop, stepping onto the tile and immediately hopping off of it and onto the solid ground of the other side.

The knot in his chest finally started to come undone with the feeling of strong earth at last, the pit finally left behind. He heard the soft footsteps of Eugene and Rapunzel behind him, the both of them making it along the last step and out of the trap in once piece. Varian rolled his eyes as Eugene dipped low to the floor, loudly kissing at the marble.

"Oh, thank you," he gasped, "Thank you, thank you, we are neverdoing that again."

Varian was inclined to agree, dipping his head in a gesture of concession. If they could avoid going back the way they'd come, he'd take it for sure. Ruddiger seemed to agree, if the way he clung to Varian’s shoulders were any indication. The poor animal was shaking, wrapping tightly around his human’s neck. Varian reached up and gave him a comforting scratch, which was met with a purr. Varian sighed, looking up at long last.

The alchemist looked at what lay on the other side of the pit at long last. Much like the doorway they'd come from, a structure of marble and iron stood tall in the center of the wall. The difference, this time, was that a large door was set into the frame, made of thick stone and looking heavy as all hell. Varian walked close to It, tilting his head in curiosity, and noting a series of intricate carvings on the door.

"How are we supposed to get it open?" Rapunzel asked, sizing up the door. Varian was at a bit of a loss, to be honest. The door was nearly four meters tall; a cursory push to the center of it was met with unsurprising failure. He sighed, inspecting the door with a curious eye.

"I have... no idea," he admitted.

"Well, if you're busy having no idea, then I'm going to have some dinner," Eugene said, flopping down onto the ground. Varian didn't bother to look away from the door; he could hear his companions begin to sort through the last of their rations with soft clinks of glass on glass. The teenager toyed with the hem of his cloak, scrutinizing.

The door had a series of intricate carvings, all jutting out from the surface of the stone in an almost three-dimensional effect. There were a variety of scenes depicted; Varian could see armies, marching on what looked like a large island. The raising of a massive castle of cold stone and lofty ceilings— he blinked, stunned. The image of Barviel Keep stared back at him, an ugly, jutting block of stone that stabbed into the sky like a sore thumb.

He grimaced at the sight of it, looking away. The other carvings showed a tall man with a flowing cloak holding a massive staff, a large crystal embedded in the top. The style of the carvings was minimalist, but the face of the man looked somewhat familiar. He couldn't place it, but the nagging feeling persisted the longer he looked at the carving.

Varian felt himself reach into his pocket, pulling out the adder stone. He'd nearly forgotten it, in the scramble to avoid falling rocks and dropping to his death, but it was worth a try to use the stone again. It was warm even in the cold of the cavern. Like a little coal in the palm of his hand. The alchemist brought it up to his eye, looking at the door.

The air was infused with the same blue glow as the graveyard had been, though it was much thicker down in the caves than it had been on the surface. It was thick, like pea soup, nearly impossible to see though; wisps of the energy seemed to leak through the door, curling outward like smoke from a fire. Whatever was the cause of the magic in the area, it very obviously was behind the door.

The glow was so strong that Varian nearly missed the appearance of lettering appearing on the direct center of the door, glowing a brighter blue than the rest of the area. Words, surrounding the image of a full chalice. He peered closer, squinting through the glow, struggling to read through the oppressive light.

"From the scion, a sacrifice," he read out loud, his voice quiet. It still seemed to echo; the clinking noises from behind him stopped.

"What?" Rapunzel asked. Varian didn't turn to look at her, letting his hand drop.

"There's an inscription, like on the note. It says From the scion, a sacrifice."

Rapunzel looked put off by the wording, pursing her lips.

"That sounds ominous," Eugene pipped up. He unscrewed a lid off a jar, shaking the provisions inside. "Hopefully it's a metaphorical sacrifice, because you know the raccoon is going to try and kill me first."

Ruddiger let out a chirp, sticking out his little tongue at Eugene, who returned the motion. Varian sighed, stuffing the adder stone back into his pocket and walking the few feet to his friends. When Eugene passed him the jar, filled with dried meat, he took his share without complaint. Now that he was able to sit, Varian felt the exhaustion of the past day all at once—a weary ache that dug deep into his bones and make his legs feel like jelly. He sighed, something tired, and chewed on his food, looking away from the door for now, and resigning to taking a break.

In the dim torchlight, they finally were allowed to rest.

>>>><<<<

"I have a question."

Eugene's voice was quiet, but still rang over the sound of gentle flames. Varian looked up from where he'd been inspecting the door. The man wandered over from where he'd been relaxing, taking a small rest before they'd continue. Varian couldn't begrudge him that; they'd been walking for hours before finally hitting this room, and then after the near-death experience with the trap... well, he should probably be resting too.

Not now, though. Too much to do.

"Shoot," he said, turning back to the door.

Eugene flopped down on the stone next to him, shuffling a little to get comfortable. Varian peered closer at one of the carvings, one of what looked like Barviel Keep in mid-construction... odd, it seemed to be documenting history from ages ago, almost like it was someone’s life story from that time. Interesting, to say the least. Rapunzel had wandered off a time ago, hoping to find something of interest out in the dark. Varian hadn’t seen her in almost a half hour; a part of him felt badly for the relief it brought him.

Eugene popped his lips a bit; Varian sighed a bit at the sound, knowing it meant Eugene was trying to figure out where to start. Meaning this conversation wasn't going to be quick nor painless.

"I have to ask," the man started, "Are we positive that your mom is the one down here."

Varian bit his lip, turning away from the carving all together.

"I don't know what else could be."

Eugene didn't seem to like that answer. "Look, I know that you think it's her, but don't you think this whole thing is a little extreme? We're in a labyrinth, under a graveyard, on a barely populated island. How would she survive down here for so long?"

Varian paused. He hadn't really thought of that, caught up in the swell of excitement. Eugene... had a point, much as he hated to admit it. He bit at his lip, not saying anything.

Eugene persisted, gently. Much gentler than Rapunzel had been, at least. "I want it to be her, too," he said, "I do. But at the end of the day, we're in the dark about a lot here. We don't even know if the note's real-"

"I know." Varian's voice was barely above a whisper. Eugene seemed taken aback, blinking, but Varian didn't falter. "I know. It's a long shot, and it's irrational for me to keep... chasing this." Eugene opened his mouth to interrupt, but Varian didn't let him cut in. "It is, don't lie to me. I know that Rapunzel's probably right. But even if it's not— even if it turns out that it's something else, I'm here for a reason. The note was addressed to me, Rapunzel said it was left in my lab. Whatever is behind that door... I dunno, maybe it'll help me find the ending of all of this. Let me put it to bed."

Eugene nodded; his eyes were sympathetic. "You know better than that," he said, not unkindly. "You do. You know that things don't just... end, they don't stop when you think you're done."

"I want them to," Varian admitted. "I wanted to leave home so I could force it."

Eugene huffed a small laugh, patting him on the back. "I wish, kid. I have more than one day I'd love to forget. But we both know that’s not how things work. Gotta keep going, one day at a time, right?"

Varian didn't reply, looking back at the door. It was as solid as ever, taunting him, mocking him. Whatever it was he was looking for, it was behind that wall of stone. He knew it was. Varian pursed his lips, his expression turning sour.

"Right."

There was a pause, not awkward, but poignant. Varian couldn't help but feel a little... raw from having this brought up again, but Eugene always seemed to know how to keep things calmer between them. When it was Varian and Rapunzel, usually things ended up swept under the rug, left to be forgotten. Nothing ever really got addressed, unless it was with a big blowup between them. Eugene, at least, was willing to hear Varian out, and consider his side of things.

"Think of it this way," Eugene continued. "If you had left, like you wanted. Would that make Quirin not your dad?"

"No, but-"

"And would sunshine and I just stop being your friends?"

"Of course not." Varian could see where this was going, "But it would make people stop looking at me like... they'd stop being weird, around me."

"Kid, I'm going to break it to you, they're all weird, in general. That's just how they are. But the point is that no matter where you vanish to, the good things won't leave you behind. Neither will the bad. Now, I think you're a big boy now." He jabbed an elbow into Varian's side, "And you can handle yourself. So, if you decide, after this, you still want to go… I'll help you pack your bags. Just remember to come back sometime, yaknow? There's only so long I can hang out with Stan and Pete before I snap."

Varian snorted a laugh and shook his head. "I don't know what I want," he admitted. "I want to go home, for now at least. I... I want my dad, a lot. I want to forget Bayangor ever happened," he muttered, "And everyone expects me to, but I just can't."

"And that's why you're chasing this?"

The alchemist nodded. "It's a... a goal. Something I can work toward. Something solid." He toyed with the edge of his boot, thinking.

Eugene pursed his lips. "And if it's not her?" he asked, "Then what?"

"Then I deal with it then," the alchemist replied. "And we see where to go from there."

Eugene smiled, bumping his shoulder. "That's my boy," he said quietly, "Ever the optimist."

Varian snorted, reaching over to run a hand along the carvings. Nothing had changed in the time he'd been inspecting it— just the same carvings and the same, strange clue.

"From the scion, a sacrifice," he murmured, lost in thought. The door remained closed; it obviously wasn't a password. "Hm. It sounds familiar, but I can't place it."

Eugene squinted at the door, tilting his head. "Was it something that Ori guy said? He was a magic guy. Or Xavier? I wouldn't blame you for forgetting if it were Xavier, I love the guy but most of his rambles just go right over my head."

Varian shook his head. "No, not them." He had half an idea, but he didn't enjoy the implications. "I think it was Meave."

"The woman who took care of you?"

"She was the librarian," Varian's voice was a million miles away, the boy pushing to his feet in thought. "I think she just enjoyed having a captive audience for her rambling, but yes, she helped me a lot back then. And she was also F-Aldred's main source of magical information. She was the one who got the, uh, the crown. Working."

He trailed off, feeling awkward after trying to explain. Meave had been kind to him, but that certainly wasn't her job— she'd been nice to him because she wanted to be, and he felt that was important. Varian turned away, looking back to the door.

The carvings were focused around one person, it seemed. A man, who started in the Wildshore Isles and moved on to Bayangor with a large army. In his hand he carried a large staff. It seemed to glow, from the way large rays of light were flowing out of it. From the look of the inscriptions, the man had left the island with another man, the two of them leading a large army to Bayangor. If Varian had to guess, it seemed like the two of them took the area for themselves, establishing a city and building what would eventually become Barviel Keep.

Varian pondered, rubbing at his chin. It had been months since he'd thought back to the more insidious things Meave had been forced into while they knew each other; he preferred to remember her for her wide knowledge of herbs and the mythical side of things, electing to let the darker aspects fall into memory.

"Ah, right." Eugene looked concerned. "And we want to listen to the crown lady because?"

"Because she knew what she was talking about," Varian replied. "When she was getting the crown ready, I remember it took time because... because it needed blood."

"Excuse me?"

"It was like a... transfer. A transaction. She fed the curse a little blood every day— because she was stalling for time. She wanted to give you and Rapunzel as long as possible to get to the Keep before it was ready. But she said that all spells take a trade of some kind. Like memories, or energy." He began to slowly take his glove off, looking to Eugene.

"Or blood."

The man flinched, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Isn't that a little extreme?" he asked, trying to joke. Varian didn't take the bait, holding his hand out.

"Only if you're not serious about it," he replied. "Can I borrow your knife?"

Eugene went white. "I don't like where this is going."

"You don't have to."

Eugene pushed himself to his feet, holding up his hands. "Okay, how about this." He rubbed his hands together. "I'll do it, that way you don't hurt yourself."

Varian paused, before shaking his head.

"I think it has to be me," he admitted. "It says from the scion. A scion is a descendant, an heir. if my theory is right, it won't open for anyone's blood, only people who are related to the guy from the carvings. It has carvings of the Keep on it— I can’t see anyone else being the right choice."

Eugene's frown only got bigger. "I know I just said that you're a big kid who can take care of himself— but that doesn't mean we just get to go hurting ourselves and feeding our blood to the big, spooky door on a hunch!"

Varian scoffed, wiggling his fingers. "You know it's not like that, I just explained it. And I'm just going to poke my finger, barely worse than a paper cut. I'm the one who's scared of blood, Eugene, c'mon." The man still didn't seem ready to budge, so Varian switched tactics. "You wanna get out of here, right? This could be our only shot. It's through that door or back to the stairs and trying to dig them out."

That did it. Eugene grimaced but still took the small knife from its place on his belt. The man shook his head; wincing when Varian quietly turned the blade on himself and pressed his thumb into the blade. The boy didn't make a noise, gritting his teeth against the slight sting and pulling the blade away to reveal a small cut deep in the pad of his thumb. Blood, thick and ruby red, welled immediately, glistening in the torchlight.

Satisfied, Varian passed the knife back to Eugene. The man absently wiped the blade on the edge of his jacket before stowing it away in its sheath; Varian tried to ignore the way the red stuck out against the ceremonial gold. The boy held his hand awkwardly, trying to keep the blood from dripping all over the floor, and approached the door.

He scanned over the carvings once again, including the area where the inscription was. Varian's eyes were drawn toward the chalice in the center of the clue, the gears in his brain turning already. Worth a try, he thought, reaching up and pressing his bloody thumb to the very center of the carving. Eugene made a small noise, the man obviously uncomfortable with the direction this whole thing had taken. It echoed in the cavern. Both males waited, breath caught, for something to happen.

Varian slowly took his thumb away, leaving a small splash of crimson on the grey stone; a poppy in a sea of santolinas. He took a step back, apprehensive. He had no idea what would happen if he was right— or, more specifically, if he was wrong.

There was a split-second pause— enough for Varian to start doubting himself— before, with a great shuddering crack, the door began to glow.

Bright white light, pure and brilliant, began to illuminate the carving of the chalice. It began to move along the divots of the door, filling the crevices like water in a trough. Varian was forced to throw an arm up, covering his eyes from the blinding light with a splayed hand. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Eugene do the same. Varian might have screamed, he wasn't sure; a heavy rumbling began to shake the room as the light hit the outer border of the door.

The cracks between door and threshold lit up with an aggressive glow, worse even than the rest of the light. Rumbling shook the floor below Varian's feet. He stumbled, nearly knocking into Eugene behind him as he tried to get his footing; the older man caught him by the arms, keeping Varian upright. The shaking only got worse, disturbing rocks from the ceiling and sending them dropping to the floor. Eugene pulled Varian to the side with a yelp, the two of them narrowly dodging a falling stone that fell to the floor with a great crash.

As soon as it had started, the light suddenly cut off, the room going dark. Varian blinked the spots from his vision, feeling nearly blind after being exposed to such a bight brilliance after so long trapped in the dark. His night vision was shot, so he couldn't see much in the weak torchlight, but he still was able to hear a great groaning noise, like the grumbling of a slumbering beast that had just been rudely awoken.

The noise of stone grating on stone filled the cavern, and Varian's vision finally cleared enough for him to see as the door began to split down the center in a clean line. With a great, shuddering creak the door opened; a rush of air blew past Varian and Eugene, nearly strong enough to knock them off their feet. Eugene definitely shouted something. Varian registered Eugene throwing a protective arm out in front of his charge, pushing the alchemist back a little and blocking the worst of the wind with his own body. Without thinking, the boy latched onto his friend's arm— lest he get swept away in the wind.

The wind died in a final puff. Varian uncurled himself from where he'd been huddled close to Eugene, blinking and waving the dust away from his face. He coughed, pushing back a sneeze as the air began to settle. Varian looked up to Eugene, blinking in shock before snorting through his nose. He covered his mouth, holding back a laugh at the sight of the man.

Eugene's brunet hair was wild, sticking up in every direction from the wind. His eyes were wide, blinking in shock at the sudden quiet, and his clothes were covered in dust. When the man caught sight of Varian trying to keep from laughing, he scowled, pushing playfully at the boy.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he grumbled, "Last time I use myself as a meat shield for you."

"I'm sorry," Varian snickered, "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Eugene grumbled wordlessly as he fixed his hair. "Do you know how long this takes to get ready?" he whined, "I don't just wake up looking like this, kid!"

Varian shook his head, laughing softly. He heard rushed footsteps from the side, looking down another hall to see Rapunzel sprinting through the dark.

"Are you guys okay?!" She skid to a stop, arms reaching for Varian. The boy sidestepped her, ducking around her hands, and walking toward the doorway. He tried to ignore her hurt face, instead opting to focus on the area that had been hidden behind the door. Varian stood in the threshold, mouth wide open at what lay within.

"We're fine, sunshine," Eugene said, patting his wife's arm consolingly, "Varian just figured out how to get the door open— hey, kid? Are you okay?"

The boy didn't answer, taking a step into the large, open space behind the door.

"Varian?"

"Kid?"

He ignored both of their worried calls, entering the room properly and looking around with wide eyes. If there were anything he'd been expecting to see... this wasn't it.

The space behind the door was massive, a circular room of nearly fifty feet diameter. The floor was carved out into layers, each one descending deeper into the earth and covered in large tiles of polished marble. Though the torches lit up the same as the rest of the cavern, they weren't the main source of light; in the center of the ceiling was a massive dome of glass and iron, allowing bright moonlight to shine through and into the room. In the light, Varian was able to see the entire space. Spaced around the outside wall in perfect increments were large boxes of stone, each surrounding what looked like a large door. They were all at least six feet tall, by about two feet deep, jutting out from the wall and into the room.

In the very center, bathed in the white light, was an ornate box, the same size as the others, with one key difference. While the others were covered in gold and fine carvings, they had nothing on this main structure, set on a large podium and surrounded in intricate mosaics. Varian took another step into the space, his stomach slowly dropping as he realized what, exactly, the tunnels were.

They weren't, as he'd originally thought, a bunker system, nor were they the remnants of an old civilization like Rapunzel had hoped. This room confirmed his worst fear. They weren't standing in a secret hideout.

They were standing in a tomb.

Varian was unable to tear his eyes away from the coffin in the middle of the room. A sudden feeling of dread started deep in his gut, a feeling like he'd just made a terrible mistake. He couldn't shake it, the feeling digging deeper and deeper into his chest and dragging more doubt to the surface.

He heard footsteps behind him, turning to see Rapunzel and Eugene had followed him into the amphitheater. They were both pale, surely coming to the same conclusion Varian had.

Aisha wasn't here. From the look of the dust on the floor she'd never been here.

The foreboding feeling only got worse.

"Well, this is... unexpected," Eugene said, peering up into the night sky. When his head tilted back down he must have seen the look on Varian's face, as he forced a smile onto his face. "At least we found a way out, right?"

"...Right," Varian replied. He drew closer to the main coffin, on a pedestal down a short flight of stairs, and looked over the carving on the lid. It was a perfect visage of a man, probably the same one from the carvings on the door. He was lying on his back, as if asleep, holding a stone chalice in both hands. In full detail, however, Varian could see the similarities in jawline and nose structure to his own; if that weren't enough, the very obvious stripe in his hair, a carved piece of turquoise, was enough of a clue.

It wasn't Aldred. But it was someone he'd seen the painting of, in Barveil's halls.

Geldam of Wildshore, the man who'd taken Bayangor. Who'd built Barviel Keep. Who'd betrayed Ori— and Merrick's— ancestor, and gotten their bloodline cursed. Branded his bloodline with teal and raven hair.

Varian felt the sudden urge to scream.

He was so caught up in the fact that he'd been effectively duped, tricked into opening the grave of his unwanted ancestor, that for a second Varian nearly missed a loud CRACK ring out from the room behind him. He still turned, however, when he heard Eugene curse.

The boy turned, locking eyes with a male figure. He stood tall, leaning on the doorway between the grave room and the trap outside, deceptively casual. Varian felt himself lock up in terror, horrified blue eyes meeting with toxic green.

Merrick looked smug, smirking at the three Coronians with malice. He didn't move when he was noticed, acting like he had every right to be there.

"Well, well, well..." he said with a mocking laugh. "Isn't this interesting."

#tangled #varian #tts #tangled the series #fic

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riseofarmy · 3 years

Text

01 | YOONGI KNOWS BEST

i can do this all day 01 | yoongi knows best

author : @riseofarmy

pairing : kim seokjin x original character

words : 1938

i can do this all day masterlist

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DARLING

Yoongi squints his cat eyes and looks into my own from the folds of my jacket, but doesn't make a sound. Good boy. It's like you can read my mind. I stand still for what feels like an eternity, tuning out my heartbeat to check for any unusual sounds.

The one time I hadn't checked if other people were following, some whackjob had managed to tail me. If it hadn't been for Yoongi's soft hiss - something he only does around strangers - I wouldn't have even known I was being followed and would have led the creeper straight to the Han inheritance.

Just thinking about how close I had been to losing the treasure sent a shiver through me.

So thanks again, Yoongi. You and your hatred for social interaction saved our asses.

In acknowledgement of my mental gratitude, Yoongi pokes his head out of my jacket again and looks around. We were right in front of the entrance to the old Han tomb, which was embedded in a small hill among the Mount Ilsan forests. The tomb itself was made of light grey stone and extended into the mound, with the open entry leading to a locked door.

I pause under the entry for another minute, patting his soft, black fur and gathering my wits. It had taken me over a year to move back to Daehan-Minguk, but now that I was here it felt like my plan finally had a shot at success. The one thing I needed to make all my wishes come true was inside my tomb, and all I needed to do was get my hands on it.

The magic lamp.

"We'll go find it one day, Darling," my dad had said to me one day, when I was still too young to know how evil people can be. "Then I can treat your mum like the queen she is to me."

But first, I needed to get in.

I walk through the entry, where I'm faced with an imposing set of double doors made of the same grey stone I assume is used through the whole tomb. Yoongi nuzzles my hand when I bring it to my neck, where a small drawstring bag hangs; inside is the key my father gave me as he told me about the tomb.

It was a strange-looking key, with teeth poking at five angles rather than just one, but it clicks perfectly into the lock, and I nearly slump with relief. A part of me had been worried that perhaps after all I did to get here, the key wouldn't even fit, that my dad had made some sort of mistake.

There was no need to fear though. Stone grinds against stone as the doors are drawn apart by some ancient mechanism, and I step through.

If I didn't already know about the Han family, I could learn everything I needed to just by looking around.

Within was a long hallway, and in each of the small rooms branching off was the burial chamber of a different Han. The whole tomb was lit by the afternoon sunlight streaming through yellowing windows and all of the chambers were basically dripping in gold, studded with gems and draped with silks, all covered in a layer of dust.

As expected, the Han were filthy rich, even in death.

It was a little bit sickening to see when I had to slave away as a labourer for two years just to have the money to get to Daehan-Minguk. I tell myself that I would come back here one day and take away from the dead what they couldn't use anyway, but not now.

Right now, I have to go to the oldest tomb, the one which held Han Jinsoo and Han Euntaek. Everyone thought Euntaek started the Han empire, but the real brain behind the operation was his wife, Jinsoo. Despite having to pass credit to her husband for all her work, she built the most successful merchant business in Daehan-Minguk, and it was in her chamber that the real treasure was hidden.

I make my way to the foot of her tomb and find the brick with Jinsoo's name written on it, exactly where my dad said it would be. Before I can have second thoughts, I press it hard. For a stomach-churning second, nothing happens, but then I hear stone grinding again and the floor between her tomb and Euntaek slides apart.

Alright. Everything's going according to plan.

Yoongi pokes his head out to examine the dank, earthy smell coming from the steps the lead to the underground room. It had taken me so long to get to right here, and not once was I nervous. I knew this is what I had to do the second my dad told me about it, but now that I'm here...

No, I can't have second thoughts. I have to see this through to the end.

With a pat on Yoongi's head to gather my courage, I stride down the stairs, my heart already beating more erratically as I get closer to my dream. After the stairs is a long, winding passage that got darker and colder the further I went, but one last turn later, I'm faced with... more gold. What a surprise.

It's kind of pretty here though. I can't figure out how, but light streams into the room even though we're underground - it's just bright enough to set the looming heaps of coins alight with a soft orange glow. It wasn't dusty like the upper chambers, but I could still tell that no one had been here since it was last locked up.

Yoongi accidentally flicks my face with his tail as he wiggles out of my jacket and onto the floor. He walks alongside me as I explore the rolls of silk leaning against the walls, the chests filled with sparkling gems and-

Hang on. Where is it? Money, more fabric, diamonds... Is that the old royal crown? More gold, more gems...

I can't find it.

Even after searching for another hour, digging through the coins with a bored Yoongi clawing at my back, I can't find the lamp. Oh hell no. This is not happening right now. I can't have come all this way for it not to be here.

Panic grips me for a moment and I drop to the ground, running a hand over the hair that was just starting to grow out again. Come on Darling, think!

Dad said the old Han tombs were within the Mount Ilsan forests. He had given me the key, said to go into Jinsoo's chamber and press her name at the foot of her tomb, that the room I'm looking for would open. He told me everything he knew about the Han magic lamp...

Which means someone else has already come and taken it. But that can't be right either - Dad was the only one who knew about it, and I was the only one he told. There's no way someone could have just stumbled on the tomb either - it was set within jungle-like forests in the crook between two mountains, and the nearest town was hours away.

"Miaaaanngg." Yoongi butts his head against my legs, wrapping his tail around an ankle in the way he does when he wants to show me something.

"Not now Yoongi. Show me after I find the lamp, okay?" But he doesn't give up, pouncing on my foot with a newfound vigour and even attempting to bite my shin.

"Alright alright! Have it your way you utter goose." Finally satisfied, leads me to a chest I had already looked through and elegantly settles himself next to it. Unbelievable.

"Thanks Yoon, but I've already checked that one." I don't know if cats can look unimpressed, but he manages to do just that at my response. I take a step away from him, but he lets out a loud yowl and starts batting at the ground.

Where Han Jinsoo's name is inscribed in the stone.

"Yoongi!" I pick him up in a tight snuggle, pressing kisses to his head as he pretends not to enjoy it. "I'm sorry baby, I'll never doubt you again, I swear! I'll get you a whole cat palace for yourself."

With Yoongi snug in my arms, I stare at Jinsoo's name on the brick. I guess she only wanted the lamp to be taken by someone who needed only that - if I hadn't known the lamp existed, I would have been distracted by the never-ending rooms of gold.

Maybe it was important to her, too, when she was alive.

A wiggle from Yoongi prompts me to lean down and press the brick hard. This time, instead of any sort of door opening, the brick next to it pops open to reveal a hollow space filled only with-

The magic lamp!

I pick it up gently and nearly start crying with the relief that finally, finally, it was in my hands. Eleven years. That's how long I've coveted this lamp, and now...

A shit-eating grin creeps on my face as I examine it.

The body of the lamp was made with intricately hammered gold and the shade made with glass that fades from purple to clear. There was a peculiar jewel set into the gold - it's a deeper, velvety purple in the shadows, but a softer, lavender when the light hits it right.

Yoongi looks disgusted when a deranged cackle bubbles in my throat, but I didn't care. I felt a little deranged, drunk on the power this lamp gave me, this tiny lamp worth more than everything in this entire tomb put together.

"Yoonie-baby. Are you hungry? I bet you are. You want me to give you something yummy to snack on?" Yoongi simply drapes himself over a particularly soft roll of silk, ignoring me pointedly as if to say 'where in this room are you going to get food for me from?'

I stick my tongue out at him (even though he doesn't see it) and I stare into the gem in the lamp. "I'll show you. I wish that Yoongi had something to eat."

Nothing happens.

I wait for a minute - maybe it's dusty from not being used? - and then another, but still, nothing happens.

Just as I think to try again, though, the lamp starts to get warmer in my hands, trembling as if there was something inside. It gets so hot that I want to drop it, but it's like my fingers are glued to the gold. Not just my fingers are stiff though, my whole body seizes up and I can't move no matter how hard I will myself to.

Yoongi hisses at the lamp as it suddenly lights with a flame that flickers white and lilac. The flame doesn't stay within the glass shade - it grows until it shoots up to the ceiling, spreading across the surface and then back down the walls to cover everything in the room.

The fire morphs into a thick, purple smog, and just when I think I might choke on it, the smoke gets sucked back into the lamp.

Just like that.

It all happens so quickly that I might have imagined it, but the air smells different now, less earthy and more like jasmine. My fingers unstick from the suddenly cold metal and let it fall to the ground. I follow it down, letting Yoongi jump into my lap as he yowls and butts his head against my quivering hands.

And then, a voice.

"Man does it feels good to be out of there!"

i can do this all day masterlist

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