#maybe its just part of the It's In A Dungeon setting of the vision but also considering they are part of why he becomes king

[propertyofyoutube]

So here’s my idea! Sam x Colby x Reader but with temperature play!!

My vision is Sam and Colby both being on the dom side and reader being sub and one of them uses/chooses something really cold like using ice and the other using something hot like wax play candles and they use them at the same time on the reader and its just pure love and smut and filth with maybe a sprinkle of after care?(the reader may go into sub drop???) (Also I kinda imagined her tied up to kinda intensify the sensations but she doesn’t have to be at all!)

Im sorry if this is to specific! I just love your writing and think you would do amazing with this! (Ps if you want not Sam x Colby x Reader requests I have SOOOO many ideas and could send as many as you would like 😂😂)

Tap once for no, twice for yes - EXPLICIT

Summary: Sam and Colby never competed for your love, never once made you feel like one was better than the other. One day, you decided to tease them, whilst they were both not home on separate outings. After sending them saucy photos, you made it officially a competition.

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom!sam, dom!colby, sub!reader. Temperature play, hot wax, ice cubes, READER GOES INTO SUB!SPACE, squirting, slut, whore, princess, baby, swallowing, oral, rough sex, restraints, vibrator, overwhelming multiple orgasms. PURE FILTH! Aftercare.

Not edited. Requests open!

Authors note: I hope you like this! I will be doing a part 2 to this request, where reader goes into sub!drop and uses her safe word. I didn’t want to go too hard/negative for the first story in this book… follow to keep up!

Tumblr:propertyofyoutube

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You sighed as you tossed over in your bed. As you picked up your phone it was only 2:30pm. “Ugh!” You groaned as you tossed once more. 4 more hours until Colby was due home and god knows how long until Sam. It was Saturday, which meant business meetings, personal meetings and so much more. But for you, a Saturday was a day off. You hated Saturdays… but you loved Saturday nights. That moment, Sam and Colby returned home, having missed you as always, and making up for the lost time in every sensual way possible.

As you thought about what you had coming later on, your thighs pressed tightly together, thinking about the basement. Damn, to YouTube their basement was the react channel set, but on the other side of that camera was a sex dungeon. Imagine Christian Grey’s red room times one hundred.

Before you met Sam and Colby, you were what most people say “vanilla”. You hadn’t had many sexual partners who explored all areas in the world of intimacy and pleasure. Once you and the boys became an agreed throuple, Colby wasted no time to introduce you to all new levels of passion. And once Sam got a taste, he couldn’t resist seeing you, obeying their demands, on your knees ready for whatever they wish. You could almost feel their hands tracing your curves, your toes curling as they brought you closer to each and every orgasm.

Suddenly your eyes snapped open, bringing you back to reality. “Fuck.” You breathed out as you felt your body desperate for them, for whatever they had in store for you. Your phone suddenly dinged as you looked down at the text message that flashed on your screen in the group chat named, ‘Our girl’.

Colbs🖤: hey baby, how’s your day going?

You began typing out instantly: it’s okay, I just can’t wait for you to-… Your frown quickly turned to a mischievous smirk as you had a bright idea. You held tightly on the back button as the message quickly disappeared. You jumped out of bed running to your dresser. As you pulled on the top drawer, your eyes fell wide as the range of the hottest lingerie sets. You fumbled through the sets and one pieces until landing on the brand new, laced corset top and matching panties. “Bingo.” You said as you chuckled to yourself. You quickly changed into the beautiful set and you couldn’t lie, you looked fucking hot. You bit your lip as you replied,

You: how long will you both be?

Colby’s typing bubble made your stomach flip in excitement. This was a risky move you were about to pull, this was punishment material. But you couldn’t wait to crumble at their touch.

Colbs🖤: I’m not sure baby… why what’s wrong? Is everything okay?

You smirked, trying to think of the best way to get them home. You walk over to your full length mirror, lowering down onto your knees. You begin to type,

You: I’m just trying my best to resist going down to the basement…

You bit your lip in anticipation as you awaited his reply, or Sam’s. It was less than a minute before Colby’s message appeared.

Colbs🖤: fuck… someone’s horny😂

You chuckled as you read his text, but before you could start type out another message came through.

Sammy❤️: wait, what’s happening?

You giggled as you definitely had both of their attention.

Sammy❤️: don’t you dare go to that basement without us, y/n.

You bit your lip, it was working, and only after one message. You sat back as Colby continued, you admired the way Sam and Colby never fought over you, for love, for sex, for anything.

Colbs🖤: agreed. Don’t y/n, or there will be consequences when we get home.

You rolled your eyes, truly not giving a fuck how badly they gave it to you. You quickly positioned yourself in the mirror as you snapped a photo. You attached the saucy picture of you in your sexy set.

You: either one, or both of you, get home now or I’ll sort myself out…😏

You waited in anticipation as both of their typing bubbles popped up. The messages instantly came through within seconds of each other.

Sammy❤️: y/n what are you doing… I’m in a meeting with the merch team.

Colbs🖤: fuck, you take that off right now. I’m in line to get some lunch.

You giggle to yourself, as you removed the corset, placing your arm across your breasts, taking another photo.

You: okay baby, it’s off😉 fine if you’d rather eat that lunch. Stay there.

You teased knowing Colby hated when you tried to boss him around. As you began typing a reply to Sam, you knew exactly what would get them both.

You: please Sammy, please come home. I need you to feel for yourself, just how soaked I am… 🥺

You waited, as Colby’s bubbles popped up first.

Colbs🖤: I know what you’re trying to do y/n…😒

Sammy❤️: baby… I wish I could, but I don’t think I can get out of this one. Believe me, I want to… so badly😢

You sighed loudly, you had to go further. They needed more convincing.

You: I usually wait for you both, everyday… but if one of you doesn’t get home in the next 20 minutes, I’ll quick frankly make myself cum

You quickly ran to the basement, your need for them intensifying every second. Before they could reply you took a photo of the large 4 poster bed, covered in satin sheets.

You: first one home gets to do whatever the fuck they want to me 😏

A couple of minutes passed and you knew that they were probably on the phone discussing the situation. They never competed.

Colbs🖤: fuck Sam, she’s done it now… you’ve been very bad y/n. You better have yourself on your knees, waiting for us.

Sammy❤️: we’re on our way. First one home gets to show you just how bad you’ve been…

Your eyes lit up in excitement.

You: yes sir.

You quickly headed back up the stairs to grab a lighter for the candles and an ice bucket, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and 3 glasses.

You had heard the front door open as you kneeled in front of the bed, facing your back to the door. Your long hair covering your bare back as you left yourself in just the lace panties. Your body tingled with excitement as you anxiously waited for who ever was about to walk through that door. Sam always went a little bit easier on you. You had them both wrapped around your finger, but you definitely knew Sam’s weak spots. He was easier to break than Colby. You knew you’d pushed them to their patient limits today and lowkey hoped Sam came first for the punishment.

“You’ve been very naughty, y/n.” Colby’s voice echoed through your ears as a smirk spread across your face.

“I would say I’m sorry… but I’m not.” You said cheekily.

“And now she’s back talking?” Sam said with a scoff of disbelief. Your eyes fell wide as you hadn’t heard the both of them arriving.

Colby smirked at Sam before slowly walking around to stand in front of you. Your eyes still facing forward, not looking up at him. Colby slowly placed his fingers below your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “You tried to make us compete for you, y/n… and that is our number one rule…” Colby said his voice low.

You tried so hard to fight back a smile, “I’m sorry…” you said softly.

Sam sighed from behind you, as you began to walk around to join Colby, “you can apologise by being a good girl for us… now get onto the bed and keep that pretty little mouth shut.” Sam said, his voice demanding and dominant, taking you by surprise. Damn, you really had pushed all their buttons. ‘Oh shit.’ You thought to yourself. You nodded before stand up and climbing onto the bed, sitting in the centre facing the boys who were now stripping down to their underwear.

“Lie down.” Colby demanded as you instantly laid your head back. Your heart beating a million miles per minute as you stared up at the ceiling.

Suddenly, both Sam and Colby appeared either side of you. Restraints in hand. “We had no control today…” Colby said with a slightly annoyed tone.

“I thinks it’s time we reimplemented who is in control here.” Sam continued as your body squirmed at their touch. You nodded slowly as they took one arm, and one leg each wrapping your wrists and ankles in the leather, strapping each of your limbs to a corner of the bed. You tried to close your legs, your thighs desperate to squeeze together as your panties grew even wetter, but it was no use.

Colby stood tall as he walked back up to your head, a red satin blindfold in hand, “you treat us differently.” He said softly as he placed the blindfold over your eyes. “Like we’re polar opposites.”

You swallowed hard full of a mixture of excitement and nerves.

“So I think we should show you, the effect polar opposites can have on you.” Sam said with a smirk.

Sam and Colby looked at each other before nodding with smiles. “What’s your safe word?” Colby asked as your breath shook.

“Red.” You whispered.

“Louder.” Sam said firmly sending shivers down your entire body.

You obeyed instantly, “red.” You spoke clearly.

“Good girl.” Sam said softly.

Colby picked up a candle from the dresser that you had lit. He walked over to the bed as Sam bit his lip, ready to watch the pleasure radiate through your body. “Sam… I think our little slut here needs her pussy eaten.” Colby said as Sam licked his lips. “She’s so desperate, look at her.” Sam couldn’t help but smile at your squirming body, stretched out across the bed as your knees tried their hardest to close.

“Always so desperate.” Sam said as he moved to the bottom of the bed, between your restrained legs. Sam looked up at your panties, he could see just how wet you were through the Lacey material. “Such a slut, you’ll do anything for us to fuck you senseless.” Sam smirked as he spoke watching how his words made your clit ache even more.

Colby leaned down by your head as he spoke softly, “do you want Sam to taste you, baby?” He asked. You nodded your head as Colby shook his, “words baby. Tell Sam exactly what you want.”

Sam’s hands suddenly touched your legs, as he slowly dragged them higher and higher, across your thigh towards your pelvis. “P- please Sammy. Please taste me.” You begged. You could feel your core pulsating at the thought of it.

Sam looked up at Colby from between your thighs as Colby nodded. Sam wasted no time, moving your panties to the side and connected his lips with your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue instantly.

Your back arched off the bed in pleasure, the feeling of Sam’s mouth working away on your core was like a dream.

“Fuck baby, you are soaked…” Sam groaned against your core as Colby licked his lips at how your body moved.

“You know those photos got me all hot baby…” Colby said looking at the candle in his hand. “And you’re going to get just as hot and bothered as I was…” Colby bit his lip as Sam’s eyes looked up at him, his mouth still devouring you. “Remember to use your safe word if you need to.” Colby reminded us as suddenly he tilted the candle over your torso. The hot wax hitting your skin as you moaned louder, a string of curse words leaving your mouth. You felt a knot in your stomach as the hot wax trailed down your body and Sam’s tongue entered your core.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Colby looked down on you and Sam gripped your hips, holding you in place.

“You thought you were so smart to tease us…” Colby grunted as he continued to pour once again, “using your body like a little whore.” His voice sent you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you full speed as you suddenly covered Sam’s face in your juices.

“Fuck baby…” Sam gasped as he sucked you up, “little warning next time?”

You breathed heavily as your heart beat strong and your body shook uncontrollably, “I’m-I’m so sorry.” You moaned out.

“You will be…” Colby grunted as Sam stood up from between your legs. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Colby said, his voice even lower as his hard cock was finally freed from his boxers.

Colby didn’t give you a chance to recover, he wanted to take out his frustrations in the best way he knew how to, making you cum, again… and again… and again. Colby lined himself up, hovering above you. He suddenly pushed himself deep inside of you as you cried out. “Fuck Colby!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head beneath the blindfold as your stomach was in knots once again.

Sam walked over to the ice bucket with the champagne, taking out 2 ice cubes. “After all that wax, you must be a little hot there baby…” Sam said with a smirk. Colby groaned loudly as he fucked you. You could hardly take in what Sam was saying as Colby hit your g-spot with his dick every time he pushed deep inside of you.

Sam climbed up onto the bed after removing his boxers, positioning himself up near your head. As Colby pounded into you, Sam took the two ice cubes as your body froze as the two ice cubes were placed on your nipples. “Oh shit!” You cried out, your back arching once again. Sam began to move around your chest, the ice leaving freezing cold trails of water.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” Colby groaned as his face scrunched from the pleasure of your walls wrapped around him. He suddenly sat up slightly, positioning himself so he could continue to fuck you whilst grabbing the candle.

“If you’re going to treat us like opposites, then we’re going to treat you with opposites.” Sam breathed heavily as Colby bit his lip starting to pour some of the hot wax once again. The feeling of both the hot and cold touching your body was sending your senses into overdrive, your head becoming lightheaded with pleasure as you moaned louder.

Suddenly you felt that knot about to explode, “fuck… I’m gonna cum!” You cried out, trying to give them warning this time.

Sam suddenly leaned down, the ice pressed back onto your nipples as the hot wax trickled down your stomach, “cum baby. That’s our good girl.”

“Fuckkkk.” You groaned as you came once again, your body exploding into a whole new world of ecstasy.

“That’s it baby.” Colby groaned louder, but he didn’t stop, he continued to pound into you at a strong pace, not allowing you a second to cool down. “Now be a good girl and open up for Sam.” Colby demanded as you parted your lips. You could cry from the feeling they were giving you, the pleasure, the passion, the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Sam positioned his cock against your lips, “wider.” He said his voice horse. You quickly dropped your jaw as Sam pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, “fuck, princess.” He moaned.

Colby watched as Sam began to fuck your mouth as you continued to get thrusted into by him. “God she’s such a slut for us Sam” Colby said between moans.

“She’s our slut… our girl.” Sam moaned as he pushed his cock further into your mouth hitting the back of your throat.

Colby threw the candle aside as he picked up a vibrator that rested on the edge of the bed. He turned it on full whack immediately as he quickly put it against your throbbing clit. You moaned louder against Sam’s cock as he threw his head back from the feeling. Out of nowhere a surprise orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks as you squirted all over Colby's cock. He pulled out for a moment as you sprayed him and covered the sheets, leaving a puddle.

“Fuck baby girl.” Colby said as he breathed heavily, his eyes wide at the sight. He suddenly re-entered you as he began thrusting harder and faster than ever, the vibrator instantly back in place. Your body was exhausted, you were afraid of how much more it could take.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum… and you’re going to swallow every bit.” Sam said as he ran his fingers into your hair. You nodded slowly, hardly able to move from the lack of control on your body.

“Me too.” Colby grunted louder as he pounded fast. “One more time baby, you can do it.” He said as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit. You felt as you walls clenched around Colby once again, your back arching off the bed as Sam leaned across and grabbed a handful of ice cubes, dropping them all onto your body as you cried out louder.

Sam twitched in your mouth, “fuck…” he ground as he suddenly came filling up your through with his hot cum. He pulled out slowly as you lifted your head slightly to swallow. “That’s a good girl.” Suddenly your body was once again filled with pleasure from head to toe, your entrance begging for some relief, for a break as you came once again.

“Fuck Colby! Cum… please cum!” You cried out. As Colby looked up at your scrunched up face.

“You got it princess.” He grunted as he pounded deeper into you one last time fucking you harder than ever, he was right, there was no way you were going to be able to walk. “Fuck y/n.” He shouted as he pulled out spilling his cum all over your lower stomach.

Everything went silent. Apart from the sounds of you all panting. Sam instantly jumped off the bed, grabbing a towel to clean you off. You couldn’t help it, you completely disappeared, reverting into sub space. Your mind escaping to a place of quiet, happiness and calm. Your body lay still, your heart pounding. “Are you okay baby?” Sam said but you didn’t respond. He looked at Colby, they both knew exactly what was happening before they both jumped into action unbuckling the restraints and your body was completely limp.

Colby kneeled next to you on the bed, taking the blindfold off slowly, “baby?” He said softly, but your eyes looked as though you were no longer there. He looked up at Sam, this has happened before but it never worries them any less.

Sam crouched the other side as he took your hand, “y/n… y/n can you hear me? Tap once for no, twice for yes.” He said concerned.

Suddenly he felt two small taps on his hand from your index finger. They both sighed in relief. Colby reached up to stroke your hair as he used his other hand to take yours. “Do you want us to take you upstairs, princess?” He smiled as he felt two small taps on his hand.

Sam jumped up, grabbing a blanket as he wrapped it around you, your whole body no longer in action. Inside your mind, you knew what was happening but it was as though you completely disconnected from your body. Colby picked up, bridal style, the blanket wrapped rightly around you. He walked you up to your bedroom, he slowly lowered you to the bed, beneath the covers. “Do you want us to leave you baby?” He asked reluctantly as he knew sometimes you preferred to be alone when you went into subspace. Suddenly he felt a small tap on his hand. No, thank god. Colby climbed into bed with you, as Sam entered the room, water and food in hand ready for when you came back to them. Colby place you on his chest as Sam climbed in the bed on the other side of you. He leaned down kissing your cheek.

“Do you still love us, baby?” He said with a smirk as he always did when this happened, he chuckled as he felt two taps. “Good.” He kissed you once more before sitting against the headboard as Colby did, your hand held tightly in his.

“Take your time baby…” Colby whispered, “we’ll be here when you’re ready.” He kissed the top of your head as you tapped the both of them twice. Sam and Colby looked at each other with a sigh, as even though you loved the sex you all had, they always felt guilty when this happened. No matter how many times you tell them it’s not their fault.

Sam picked up the remote control as he headed onto Netflix and began to play your comfort movie. Both of them holding tightly onto your hands as your head lay comfortably on Colby’s chest. “We love you.” Colby said, honestly.

“So much.” Sam added as you tapped them both twice. You laid there, allowing your body to relax ready for you to come back to reality.

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[ambrosiagourmet]

Other dream detail - I've found it kind of odd that the Lion says that Marcille will make a wonderful dungeon bc once he actually gets ahold of her he goes the complete opposite way, saying he needs Laios to be in charge of the dungeon bc she isn't good enough

Which could just be like a "the Lion thought she'd be good at this but actually she isn't," but I also wonder if it's in part because the Lion didn't put her in that role in the dream

Maybe Laios did! Which would mean his the Laios'-subconscious-building-blocks of this scenario would probably include Falin being alive and whole, people living alongside and eating monsters, orcs living comfortably with other humans, and Marcille helping him make it all work.

Which means it ALSO might be another instance of Laios accidentally throwing her in the path of the Lion (like with the nightmares chapter), which... oof

#also think the orcs part is cool now that I think about it. They make a p big impression on him on the whole it it seems like #maybe its just part of the It's In A Dungeon setting of the vision but also considering they are part of why he becomes king #and v much part of the kingdom he makes. I think it's also more than that

[greenishghostey]

Dungeon Master meet Prop Master | part 1

Pairing: Eddie x Drama Club!reader 

Summary: A D&D nerd and a drama geek finally cross paths in their little shared paradise realm - the drama storage room of Hawkins High School.

Warnings: None! Just a good, wholesome meet-cute. There is some suggestive language but nothing is graphic/explicit.

Word Count: 4,639 words (this took on a mind of its own super fast)

Author’s Note: I’ve seen a few fics floating around where the reader is part of the drama class but I hadn’t seen a fic where reader is more behind the scenes, thus spending a lot of time in the drama store room - aka The Hellfire Club room. Also, the official title of the person in charge of props is ‘The Prop Master’ so that worked too perfectly. I couldn’t not go down that route. I was a drama kid in high school so I am definitely projecting a bit but at least I’m being creative with it.

I would like to say a little thank you to @manicpixiedreamcurl , @punk-in-docs​ and @luveline​ whose works and amazing writing styles inspired me to get back into writing after a really really long spell of writer’s block.

/// Part 2

The best part of being in charge of the props and the set for the drama club was the fact that you got to keep the coveted storage closet key. Maybe it wasn’t the greatest honour to the others in your club, but that closet and the rehearsal room were your domain. It’s where all the stuff was, the mass of stuff you had accumulated since freshman year for the club. Miss Butler had told you just last week that the place was “starting to look like a dragon’s hoard,” she’d spoken with her usual encouraging smile, so it really lit a fire under your ass. 

The rickety shelves were weighed down by stacks of old books you’d found in second-hand stores, some of which were actually pretty good - The Hobbit and the first three Oz books being your current favourites. The floor was cluttered with random small pieces of home decor you grabbed from yard sales around Hawkins - the old ladies of your neighbourhood had basically thrown the lamps, ornaments and doilies at you. There were a few pieces of large furniture that had been in the closet long before you were let loose in it - the usual set dressing stuff, small wooden desks, chairs, dusty rugs.

Your favourite piece that had greeted you as prop master was that big, ornate wooden chair - more like a throne - that you barely got to touch because the Dungeons and Dragons club’s leader had basically called permanent dibs. Eddie Munson was known to be a lot of things around the school and had been for what felt like forever. Freak, creep, cultist, asswipe - all the classics. However, to you, he was a chair hog, but that was about it. You’d never really put stock into the satan-murder-super-cult schtick that everyone and their mother spewed. He was the head of a roleplaying game club with its own fun little shirts, so how harmful could he be? 

For how much time you spent building, fixing, or organising props in the theatre room, you would assume Eddie would have crossed your path much more. But you guys always seemed to miss each other, and he was hard to miss, even on a good day. Fridays were Hellfire Club nights, so you would always have to just head straight home after last period. The rest of the week was fair game, and he never dared to stay on school grounds longer than he had to. You’d seen him tearing out of the parking lot yesterday. He nearly rear-ended Carver’s car while blasting Mississippi Queen - part of you wished he had taken the back off of the jock’s car; Jason was a bitch. 

It was Thursday, and you were perched by old plywood and canvas backdrops, surrounded by various shades of brown and grey paints - glasses on because this job was gonna require 20:20 vision or as close as you could get. Miss Butler wanted to direct a show-stopping production of The Crucible this year, so you were getting started on some very sad-looking colonial church backgrounds. The painting had always been one of your favourite parts of your role. Sure, brown and grey weren’t the most exciting colours ever, but you had to give yourself some credit; you really knew how to create faux, mouldy wood grain. Working in total silence just wasn’t gonna work, though, so you dug your cassette player and headphones from your backpack and welcomed the silky rasp of Patti Smith to accompany your Arthur Miller-ifying activities.

With ‘So You Want To Be’ blaring in your ears, you didn’t notice when the door to the theatre room was thrown open, and Hawkins High’s resident super senior rushed in. 

Eddie quickly started busying himself with the usual Hellfire set dressings dotted around the room. He usually set up on Friday afternoon but had some “business transactions” to deal with before the weekend, so after-school Hellfire feng shui it was. Eddie had dumped his backpack against the plywood backdrops behind his throne and started rummaging through scraps of notes, general lint and some old food crumbs to find his good set of metal dice. They always sank right to the bottom of the bag just when he needed them. 

A loud thud bellowed through the theatre room, quickly followed by Eddie’s voice cracking into a yell. 

“Son of a-!”

You shot up from your spot and felt your eyes widen at the metalhead, who was currently hunched under a piece of Saint Basil’s Cathedral, “Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay? I am so so sorry!” you scrambled around the backdrops to heave up the fallen pieces. They weren’t heavy enough to do any damage, but you’d been nearly crushed by them plenty of times. Cardboard, canvas and plywood are a bitch.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. Just dinted my spine is all.” Eddie groaned, rubbing his back and stretching like some old man. “Knew you guys hated me using this room but wasn’t expecting a full-on assault.” He actually looked like he might have been injured from the rogue Cathedral piece. Maybe you were just used to things falling on you or stabbing yourself with craft knives. 

“Eddie, I’m really sorry. Do you want me to get some ice? The nurse might still be in her office, so I’ll run - I’ll be like 5 minutes, yeah?” You were scrambling for ways to make sure Eddie knew you were sorry. Rambling, really. God, you pride yourself on seeing past his mean and scary persona when others didn’t, but you’d gone and basically winded him with a church tower. Maybe if you took the hallways that the janitor had already mopped, you would be able to pick up speed and slide to the nurse’s office. 

Eddie took notice of your frantic state, eyes shifting around the room and towards the door, shoulders bunched up - you looked like the really nervous stray cat, Frankie, that wandered around the trailer park. “Hey, hey. I was just messing with you, specs,” he chuckled lightly. It was a new experience for him to see someone, let alone a girl, get worked up on his behalf in any capacity. Usually, he’d get an insult at worst or a grimace at best. He stood up straight and did a small half-spin so you could see for yourself that he was, in fact, fine. “See, I’m a-okay. Little offended at getting smacked by a church, but hey, it was gonna happen eventually.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” You huffed, a smile sliding across your lips, “fuck you, Munson, I thought I’d actually hurt you!” you swatted him with the paintbrush you’d put in your back pocket, a few specks of grey paint hitting his jeans. You turned to make sure everything was secured to avoid another workplace accident. Then, you heard him laugh, it was something between a snigger and a giggle, and it was actually kind of sort of cute. What fresh hell was this?

“Fuck you,” he said, in a high-pitch, mimicking voice - Eddie had jokes now. Brave of him. “Fair enough. I’m sorry I made you worry about little ol’ me.”

“Wasn’t worried. More frantic concern,” you tried to shrug off his playful comment. It did bring a little heat to your face, but he didn’t need to know that. “What are you doing in here today anyway? It’s Thursday; you’re a day early.”

“Ah yeah, well, I’ve got some important business to attend to tomorrow so…” his voice trailed off as he leaned against the edge of the long table. He could have just said drugs, you were quiet around school, sure, but you weren’t a total square. Possibly more of a square with rounded edges. 

“By business, you mean weed?” You asked. 

“Yeah, weed.” Huh, he sounded a little bit discouraged in his reply but quickly covered it with a chuckle and a smirk. Typical Munson. “You wanna buy or?”

“God, no. I mean, I'm not judging it, but it’s not really my thing. One of my friends said she’s gonna buy from you for Willis’ party on Saturday, though.” Penny had been raving about scoring some weed for that party since Monday. She’d only smoked a handful of times in her life, but the guy she had her eye on was like a chimney attached to a house on fire. His name was Chris or Keith or something that started with a ‘C’ or a ‘K’. All you knew is that he was a glorified benchwarmer for the basketball team and had ‘sexy’ hair - Penny’s words, not yours.

“Is that the redhead chick who makes you run lines at lunch when there’s a play? She’s bought from me before but didn’t know what papers or filters were.” He couldn’t hold back a snigger when remembering how he had to explain the fundamentals of a joint to the poor girl. 

Eddie’s laugh was nice, you decided. You couldn’t find a word to describe it other than nice at that moment. Penny could take being thrown under the bus for a minute as long as you got to hear him laugh again. She’d made you read as Romeo one too many times, so, if anything, this was like karma. 

Wait. 

How did he know what you got up to at lunch? Penny was sometimes a little too loud when she got really into a monologue but you usually distracted yourself with your sandwich and soup when that happened. But Eddie had noticed. He had noticed the heavy-handed performance of your friend, but more importantly, he had noticed you. God, what if he had heard your crappy take on the witches from Macbeth? You’d done voices. 

“That’s her, yeah. Her name’s Penny. If you call her “chick” she’ll go nuclear. Just warning ya.” You needed to keep this conversation on track. You liked talking to Eddie. It felt easy. Like you’d always thought it would. “She’ll buy from you, but it’s for this dude she likes.” 

“Awww. That is so gross.” He replied in an airy, cooing tone. You’d moved to join him at the table, getting yourself comfortably seated. You really didn’t want to go back to painting. Eddie was actually kind of funny, and not in his usual loud, antagonistic way - you did still enjoy that, obviously, but seeing a new side to a pretty guy wasn’t something you were gonna complain about. 

“You going to Willis’ this weekend? Since pennies and some other drama nuts are, I’d assume you are to make an appearance?”

“Drama nuts, huh?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look genuinely miffed at the comment. He was right, though. Everyone knew theatre kids were fucking nuts. 

“It’s not a bad thing. Everyone’s a nut about something - sports, drama, music, sometimes math for whatever unholy reason.” He was now sitting on the table with you, leaning back on his forearms like he was getting comfy to stay there for some time. God. 

“And what are you a nut about exactly?” 

“Getting an answer about your party attendance, if I’m honest.” Oh. 

True be told, Eddie didn’t flirt all that much. When he did, it was usually to get a rise out of people or make them uncomfortable. But he’d had at least one eye on you for a while now. You were cute, which was the first thing he noticed - all big wireframe glasses and funky sweaters with weird patterns on them. 

The more he glanced your way, though, the more he liked. You were definitely the most level-headed of the drama nuts, reining in their impromptu lunch rehearsals. You were always jotting down notes in your little red, paisley-patterned notebook with “WORK STUFF” written on the front. You also snorted when you laughed at one of his comments in history like a month ago, so that had done a number on him for at least a week.

You were a little weird, honestly. But, he liked weird. Weird looked good smacking him in the spinal cord with theatre backdrops. Maybe you could smack him in other, more friendly, situations. That’d be cool. 

“Oh? You’ve got some lines, huh? I thought the charm was only for the jocks and Miss O’Donnell?” 

“My charm has many layers, thank you very much,” he smirked, the expression taking up his entire face. This guy’s Dante’s Inferno of charm was gonna have you ready to lose layers if it kept up. Wait, what cesspit of your brain did that thought crawl out from?

“Okay, okay, noted. Back to the weed party. Not really my kinda scene, too busy, too loud.” You smiled, a little sad at your confession. Big parties had never really been your thing, even when it came to birthday parties in elementary school. A cast and crew wrap party was always fun but you knew everyone at those, so it took less effort. Penny had been nagging your ear off for the past two weeks to “let your hair down,” but you knew you’d wind up being a buzz kill, regardless of what hairstyle you went for.

“The weed party? I’m gonna steal that one, specs. Could use it for my summer sales and marketing scheme. Business ventures aside, what is your scene if it isn’t weed parties?” He giggled a bit when he spoke. You weren’t going to be able to forget ‘weed parties’, but, hey, it could be an inside joke between the two of you, like friends. 

“Well, this, more or less. It’s all like my own big extracurricular craft project, I guess.” You said, gesturing around the theatre room, glancing towards the storage closet door, the backdrops, the variety of sword props you’d made for Othello last year, and stacks of old paper that you had meticulously aged. It wasn’t much of a “scene”, but theatre was your life. Creating all of those little details that could elevate a play and bring it off the page alongside the actors was a great feeling. Most people didn’t understand why you liked painting backdrops or making stuff out of plywood or foam. Penny tried to. Bless her heart, but maybe Eddie would get it. Maybe he could peek behind the curtain and understand.

“Wait. So like, you make all of this stuff? Dude, seriously?!” Eddie lept up from the table quickly and dashed towards the “weapons bin” - it was the name you’d lovingly given to the big crate that was full of fake swords and daggers from previous productions. Miss Butler loved a good Shakespearean tragedy to get her thespians ready for their future Tony award nominations. Eddie rummaged through the crate and pulled out one of the more “adventurous” pieces you’d made. The blade itself was pretty basic, made from some foam with a wooden base to keep the shape and covered in metallic paint you borrowed from your dad. The handle and guard were what you were really proud of. And, apparently, so was Eddie. 

It was an aged gold colour, made to look like the metal had been held numerous times but was still well-crafted. You’d taken way too much time to shape the handle to look like finger grips had been hammered into the gold. There were detailed patterns etched into the guard that you’d done with a craft knife at your kitchen table. It had been a bitch to work on since you’d stabbed your fingers a lot, but it looked fucking sick. Eddie held it like it was real, like it was a gift bestowed upon him by the gods themselves. 

“You’re telling me you made this?” He spoke earnestly. It was the first time you had ever heard him sound that way. His big, dark eyes felt like they were scanning your whole body, not just your face. 

“I don’t handmake everything, but the swords and other stuff that’s production-specific, yeah, I have to make it.” 

“This sword. This sword, here. It’s the fucking crown jewel of our Hellfire campaign right now,” he stated. He’d started running his hand along the fake blade while maintaining eye contact with you and wearing an awestruck look. This must have been another layer of that charm he mentioned because warmth was crawling up your neck. There was an innuendo about stroking a sword rolling around in her head, but you weren’t ready to embarrass yourself that quickly - things were going too well.

“The Sun Strike. The most sought after and powerful magical sword. The guys are gonna use it to destroy this cursed rogue knight dude. Or, at least, that’s my plan. The new freshmen might fuck it up; who knows.” He swung the sword around as he told you all about the tale of the weapon, spinning it around in his hand. Eddie was so weirdly unpredictable - the scary satan worshipper could go sword tricks and was grinning like a big goof.

You didn’t speak for a few moments. You just stared at him and the sword from your perch on the table. This guy really was insane but in the best way possible. He looked like an excited little kid with your prop in hand. 

Your parents had always supported your passion for building and crafting pretty much anything your little mind could think of - you’d once made a magic staff out of a gross tree branch you’d found on a hike. However, they never really got the enjoyment and sense of pride that crafts gave you. Breathing new life into something that might otherwise be viewed as mundane or as nothing. Transporting even the smallest object back in time to any period with some paint, some brushes and a whole bunch of all-nighters. 

It was more than just fun. It was more than just a hobby. And Eddie Munson, of all people, seemed to understand that loud and clear. He’d even named one of your creations. How adorable was that?

“Hey, specs? Specs? Sorry, I should have asked to use your stuff. I didn’t know any of this was actually made by some-”

“No, no. Do not say sorry. Nuh uh,” you yelled, moving towards Eddie and grasping his upper arms. “The Sun Strike. That name is way cooler than anything I could come up with, so no sorry’s. And - and it's magic? Like good magic or bad magic?” Your quiet shock was long gone, and you started shaking Eddie by the shoulders. The bright grin on your face was infectious as Eddie stared at you, his expression slowly matching yours once the reality of your questions had set in. You were excited and asked him about D&D and liked the sword's name. Eddie had never been concerned about how smoking would affect his breathing, but you had him near gasping for air. 

“Good magic, don’t worry. The best kind, actually. Like the light of the world, that type of stuff. Crafted by the fair hands of a Sun goddess herself.” Eddie explained with a lopsided smirk. Fuck, he was so proud of that piece of lore now; he could use it as a line on a cute girl. That had never happened before. 

“Was that pre-established, or did you just make that up for me?” You laughed, not giving a single shit about what the answer was because you were a fucking Sun goddess. Now that you had calmed down, you made sure to let go of Eddie before you gave him minor whiplash. You were also becoming increasingly aware that being so close to him was feeling a little too nice.

“Nah, ‘fraid to say that I came up with that when I first saw it last year. But how about we change your name from ‘specs’ to ‘sunny’? How does that sound?” It almost amazed Eddie how easily he was laying it on thick with you. 

“Keep ‘specs’ gives me the chance to redeem a name from middle school. Besides, one of the other girls in drama gets called Sunny, so no dice.” You were cursing Sunny to high heaven in your head. Her real name was Mary-anne, and she only got the nickname because her last name was Sunderland. But, you didn’t need to start gaining a God complex over a fake sword, so ‘specs’ you would have to remain. 

You and Eddie continued to talk about your projects and if he had worked them into his campaign. Funnily enough, he had only used the gold handled sword since he’d never had a real inspection of the other treasures in the theatre trove. You were starting to grasp the fundamentals of D&D, and you could clearly see how fun it could be. What Eddie did with his club was sort of similar to you and the drama club - transforming, transporting, reviving. While helping him move some new stuff into place for Hellfire Club the next night, you both fell into a calm rhythm. You would suggest setting and props that could work for what he had planned in the session, and he would ‘hm’ and ‘haw’ about the place for them. You’d given him a few more fake weapons - two daggers and a wood-cutting axe - along with some weathered books and candlesticks. 

This Hellfire set was one of the best you’d worked on, and it wasn’t even for the drama club. It was still just as theatrical and imposing but was also cosy and welcoming. Kind of like Eddie, you’d realised. After the evening you had spent with the town pariah, you were even more against the vile opinions people held about him. He was a huge cheeseball, inside and out. You had handed him a huge, beat-up, leather bound bible, and he nearly shrieked with excitement as he put it on the table. Behind the hair, the leather and the bite was one of the sweetest guys ever. 

Eddie lounged back in his ornate, dark wood throne, surveying the upgraded Hellfire Club set-up. Candelabras, weaponry and some gothic patterned fabric draped over the ladder against the back wall. The place had never looked so right, so good. The best addition to the room, however, was you. You, organising the extra boxes and crates to clear up the space around the long table. You, who was giddy while dashing around the room and trying to get the fantasy-medieval-heavy metal aesthetic just right. 

“Gotta hand it to you, specs. You can craft a damn good set. Very metal.” He chimed, giving you a soft round of applause from his throne. 

“It’s all pure, raw talent, Munson.” You stated, standing proud with your hands on your hips and smiling smugly. Eddie was still glancing around the room with a look of childish wonder on his face. He’d put on the lights and bathed the room in a cosy, honey glow. You couldn’t help but notice his eyes. Wide, burnt umber, and so full of appreciation. This doe-eyed metalhead was past the point of doing it for you. You could feel the budding beginning of a crush - hadn’t had one of those since freshman year when Patrick McKinney was your biology partner for, like, two weeks. 

“You know, I used to think you were just a chair thief. I’ve wanted to put that huge thing on stage for ages, but now I’d feel bad if I accidentally tainted its reputation.” You gestured to Eddie’s throne - you were more willing to call it that now. 

“Well, I called dibs like a year before you even started here, so there. This bad boy is dripping in my glamorous reputation. I mean, look at this butt groove.” Eddie proclaimed, standing up quickly to reveal a pretty impressive imprint in the leather seat. You were being encouraged to inspect his ass, and who were you to pass up an opportunity like that. His dark jeans hugged his legs subtly and were definitely doing him favours. “Also, it’s 6:30 now, so we should probably think about vacating the premises. Higgins gets antsy if he senses that I’m around for too long.” 

“Shit, it’s that late already? I gotta get home. I promised to watch MacGyver with my mom after dinner.” You quickly grabbed your backpack from behind the backdrops, only for some of its contents to spill onto the floor - your tapes, some almost dried-out pens and your copy of A Wizard of Earthsea. 

“Oh ho, what you got there, specs?” Eddie, ever the gentleman, gathered up your stuff but didn’t hand it over right away. A chance to see what kind of music you were into? That was far too valuable. “Some Patti, a solid choice. And… Yes. Unexpected, but I’m pleasantly surprised. Didn’t peg you for a prog rock kind of gal.” God, he was annoyingly good at this. Making you flustered but still comfortable - making you want to match him toe to toe.

“I like cool ladies and funky guitar riffs. I’m very easy to please.” 

“Noted.” He grinned. The bastard grinned from ear to ear. And you ate it up. “Anyway, you need a ride home? It’ll be dark out by now, and you can even have stereo privileges.”

Riding your bike home in the dark was always a dicey experience. You’d done it a few times after staying late at school accidentally and ended up walking most of the way since you were too worried that a car would run you off the road. Plus, Eddie had a van, so getting your bike home would be easy too. 

And control of the music? That’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 

“That’d be great, actually! I live over on Fletcher; I think it’s kinda close to your place.”

“It’s on my route. So, let’s make like a tree.” Eddie picked up his backpack and headed towards the door, nodding for you to follow. 

You had to restrain yourself from practically skipping through the halls. Staying late for theatre stuff was always fun, but it did start to get a little lonesome. Theatre kids in Hawkins loved being on stage, but they weren’t huge fans of being behind it. 

But Eddie. He was on the stage, behind it and in the goddamn audience. He had a sort of omnipresent energy that followed him around. Most of the student body saw it as annoying, obnoxious or just plain evil, but you knew better. He was passionate - that was the best word for him. He was passionate about his game, he was passionate about his music and- 

“Specs? This your sweet ride?” Eddie asked, ringing the bell on your bike. It was a dull, low ding - your bike was old as balls, and so was the bell. 

“Yep. That’s her. Gorgeous, right?” You boasted, slapping the bike seat. The bike had been your mom’s many moons ago, and while it was a senior citizen, it was still a great shiny silver. Isopropyl and a wire brush kept her pretty. 

“Maybe a little old for my tastes, but got the silver fox thing going, which is doing- something for me.” There he went again - the invitation, the tease to keep the banter going. You were about to quip back at him when he hauled your bike onto his shoulder. He held it so carefully even though it was just a bike. “Van’s across the lot, so I’ll carry the old girl. Come on.” 

You just nodded, maybe a little too excitedly, but better than talking with your foot in your mouth. You jogged a little to catch up with Eddie, falling into a brisk pace with him. It was early October, and the wind was starting to get its bite back. 

But you couldn’t help but feel a little warmer when you watched Eddie awkwardly shift himself and wrestle to get your bike in the back of his van. 

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #fluff #fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #tbh this is also kind of a fix it fic #because i'm bad at writing angst #not gonna lie i'm actually pretty proud of this #Eddie is like my dialogue muse because i was horseshit at writing dialogue that sounded believable before this #Eddie #eddie munson x you

[mortifiedatbeingknown]

"An Odd Little Thing" (Pt. 4)

Masterpost:

The monster snored. Very, very loudly. But they were asleep, and that was a relief. If it was asleep, it couldn’t scrap, or hurt, or turn him off. He’d be safe, at least for a few hours. 

Safe…but still trapped. 

He had hoped that with enough of a charge he’d be able to escape, but he was quickly finding out that no amount of power could move his rusted joints. And if by some miracle he managed… 

A loud, hideous squeak echoed throughout the dungeon. No, no! He’d wake the monster right up! 

But if he just waited here… 

Does not compute. 

Does not compute. 

He let the blue screen fill his vision. What was the point of rebooting? No one was expecting any use out of him. His programs weren’t needed. Quite simply… he had outlived his purpose. 

I don’t want to die. 

Not here. Not at the hands of a monster in dark, dingy, unfamiliar room. If could have a choice… he would have wanted it at the hands of his masters, being able to offer one last play time. 

Surgery time! Put the patient under! 

A sticky, sugar-coated finger would press against the power button on his neck, and he’d hang limp, his processors writhing and twisting in an endless conflict of hope and dread. Hope that this time, maybe this time, nothing bad would happen. The fear that he would never come back or turn on again. That this time… he would be too broken. And of course, the dread. Dread that came from the knowledge of a repeated pattern he knew all too well. Because if every time he woke back up, and if every time it was in even more pain than before, then it would happen again. His gears would find a way to keep clicking. Because the game never stopped, no matter how hard he begged. Begging was part of the fun, just like the paint, just like the gum, just like the surgeries. 

Why hadn’t he given up earlier? 

Because you still had purpose. You had a function. 

But now, all that was left was the privilege of not caring anymore. 

********************

She awoke with a sore neck and a hard imprint of the mechanical arm she was working on stamped against her cheek. I must have fallen asleep at my desk again… 

She sighed. 

What time was it anyways? She glanced at the darkness outside the window, and then to the clock on the wall. Just a little past midnight… of course it was. She stood up, stretched, and went to wash her face. It was a little early, sure… but it wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. Her dreams hadn’t been all that pleasant anyways. 

From behind her, a single glowing eye stared, cracked optic sending scatters of orange light throughout the workshop. 

“Still awake?” 

She should've remembered. Sleep Mode kicked in automatically for most androids, but if the internal timer was malfunctioning… then it wouldn't be a stretch to assume any time-dependent programming would fail too.Ugh… she should’ve remembered to turn him off before falling asleep. 

Not like the thing would ever let me. 

She cleared her throat. “Sorry. You must have been pretty bored, eh?” 

No response. 

Huh. This was new. Had his audio processors finally broken down? She snapped on her goggles, tied her face mask around her mouth and nose, and worked her way around her mounds of junk to her newest project. 

“Hey.” She said. 

The robot didn’t even twitch. 

She picked it up and yelled in its ear. “HEY!” 

A very noticeable flinch. So the processors were working. It was just ignoring her. 

Why, the little—! She bit her tongue. The last thing she wanted was for it to start crying again. Instead, she kept her tone neutral. 

“I’m going to run the rest of the diagnostics now, OK? After that, I’ll see if I can get rid of that rust.” 

She set the android down on her desk, after clearing as much space off as she could. With a little adjustment, the overhead light shone directly above in the perfect position. “Just let me get my tools ready. I’ll be right back.” 

That was a lie, sort of. Most of what she needed was already there. But she needed an excuse to look away, to not have that cracked, orange gaze burning into her soul. Why did she salvage a model with eyes, if she couldn’t even handle nonhumans looking at her? 

She pretended to sweep the grounds, picking up random wires and a spare wrench or two that had wandered away from her tool belt. Wait… maybe there is something… 

She straightened. “I’ll be upstairs.” She said, and closed the door behind her. 

Five seconds later, she popped back in.

 “Wait, I should do this first, right?” 

Without another word, she retrieved the rag previously used as a blanket and wrapped it once again around the robot’s shoulders. 

#whumpee #whump #whump writing #robot whump #reluctant caretaker #odd little thing

[tarountula]

I love how up in the air the fate of Falin is right now...

On one side, we have the Winged Lion cursing Laios to never have his greatest wish granted. He immediately thinks of Falin, but we just saw an example of Laios being manipulated into have his arguably real desire being granted, one he's been holding since childhood: becoming a monster. This, coupled with him admitting to the shock of his companions that if Falin never died they wouldn't have left on this adventure, makes me thing maybe the greatest desire being referred to is something else, something deeper. Not to mention the sidebar in CH94 is "his true intentions are revealed!" when saying "we're gonna eat you up!" instead of "we're gonna save you!" to Falin. Hmm.

My first thought is something involving acceptance; he's been an outcast since youth, the Winged Lion manipulated him with visions of a world where his love of monsters is taken seriously and cultivated, and all his companions are together sharing a meal... while in the newest chapter, they're talking about parting ways now that the adventure is over. I guess we can't know until we do, but I'm curious to see if this is the final bait and switch being set up.

Of course, on the other side, we've been gently taught the lesson that eating something makes its death not a waste. It's a funeral, it's letting go while keeping them with you, it's nature at it's very essence. Falin dying for good (especially with the dungeon we've rarely seen her outside of collapsing and, as Yaad says 'the veil is being lifted') would be a bittersweet end perfectly in line with the morals of the story. So it really comes down to: is Falin a scrambled egg?? Full-- hold on wait post on pause i was just going to continue the joke of Falin's soul being an egg but HOW did i miss the perfect visual symbolism of this panel. The symbolic representation of Falin's soul resting on top of something different than her, still fully formed????

just 'soul eggs benefict' as it's translated in the printed manga?? does this mean her's souls leaked out already i--

#just trying to gather my thoughts here so this is all over the place but i am thinking & ruminating & not ready to say goodbye to this story #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #like massively so. please.

[yersina]

[part 1]

Yoojin gasps, the scent of sulfur flooding his nose. There’s jagged rock beneath his palms, red stone as far as he can see, except no, there’s a flash of dark fur, and a spout of fire, and a—

“Look alive, Yoojin-ssi.” He snaps his gaze over to the tall figure standing next to him, who’s peering curiously down at Yoojin’s prone form. “This is just your interview, you know.”

“Get out while you still can,” a Seseong Hunter had whispered to him conspiratorially when Sung Hyunje had dragged him down to the guild building to complete the last of the paperwork.

The warning had been paired with a wink and a grin, but Yoojin had swallowed down the lump of unease in his throat all the same. “What do you mean?”

The Hunter shrugged. “He’s a bit… y’know.” He gestured meaningfully to his head. “I mean, all of the guild leaders are a bit insane—have to be, in order to do what they do. But ours is maybe a bit more than most.”

Yoojin hadn’t quite grasped what the Hunter had meant beyond a lingering sense of trepidation, but now he thinks he understands.

“‘Interview’, my ass,” he mutters under his breath as he pushes himself back to his feet.

Sung Hyunje chuckles, as if he’d heard Yoojin’s quiet comment, but doesn’t respond other than to say, “Or perhaps we could consider this your signing bonus?”

Yoojin resists the urge to sigh long and hard. “As long as I can file for hazard pay.”

Sung Hyunje’s eyes glitter in the next bout of fire from a monster somewhere to Yoojin’s left. “Don’t forget, you’re not my employee yet.”

Yoojin grunts, roughly brushing himself off and setting himself in the direction of the fighting still going on, shouts and growls giving away the location of the other Seseong guild members. “How much longer until they’re done?”

“We’ll be done when you Awaken,” Sung Hyunje corrects. “Our timeline is determined by you, Yoojin-ssi.”

Yoojin grimaces. “Great.”

In the next moment, Yoojin barely has time to register the brush of fur against his side and the sharp crack of electricity before the husk of a hulking, bear-like monster is already falling at his feet, its mane of fire slowly smoldering out. “Do keep up, Yoojin-ssi,” Sung Hyunje says lightly, patting his jacket a few times to release a cloud of ash. “I’d hate for you to die before the fun starts.”

“You’re insane,” Yoojin informs him seriously, and dogs after the bastard’s unfairly long strides anyway.

He’d already known that the guild leader of Seseong is one of the few S-Ranked Hunters in Korea (along with his brother, his mind tacks on helpfully), but it’s one thing to know that fact and it’s another to see it, the ease with which Sung Hyunje breezes through a C-Rank dungeon, tearing a swathe through any blazing monsters that stand in his path with less effort than it takes Yoojin to sneeze. It’s terrifying and awe-inspiring in equal measure, sending Yoojin’s heart to his throat every time lightning sparks across his vision.

“Bak Sooyeong-ssi,” he hears Sung Hyunje greet. Apparently Yoojin had been so focused on not tripping over the uneven ground that he hadn’t noticed their approach to the other group. “I think we need a different approach. I’ll be leaving Han Yoojin-ssi in your care.”

“You gonna keep up, newbie?” she asks with an arched eyebrow after Sung Hyunje glides off into the depths of the dungeon.

“Not like I have another choice, do I?” he replies. He tugs his gloves more firmly over his hands. He thinks he spots a flash of approval in her expression, but it’s hidden by another spout of flame that comes way too close to where they’re standing. The longer he stays in the dungeon, the harder it begins to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that he’s going to die in this place.

She claps him on the back and shoves him forward in the same motion. “That’s the spirit! Let’s see if you you’ve got the guts, huh?”

These people are insane, he thinks, not for the first time since he stepped foot in the dungeon and definitely not the last by the time he steps out. Absolutely, batshit insane.

He follows after the proud line of her back anyway.

#sina writes #fanfiction #sctir #s classes that i raised #seseong!hyj au

[suntdracull-archived]

co-written by the-blackened-dove

The live broadcast began to fritz and static. The live feed changes to what seems to be a dungeon. A piece of parchment written finely in calligraphy.

"And now! It's time to Learn with Mr. Hyde!! Duh-duhduh-duhduuuuuuh!!"

The paper left the frame, replaced with a most horrifying sight.

"Good evening, kiddos, it's me! Edward Mulligan Hyde, and today we will learn about human anatomy, specifically the eye!"

He would twirl his cane and point its end to a nearby blackboard with an intricately drawn diagram of the human eye in blue chalk.

"There are various parts of the eye, the sclera, the iris, and the pupil. But inside the eye, we can see a vast plethora of fun little knick-knacks, the machinations of the human eye. What we will focus on today, boys and girls is the cornea. The cornea is endowed with the greatest density of nerve fibers of any place on the human body, making it among the most sensitive areas of the body."

He kicks the chalkboard away to reveal Roxxy, arms, and legs bound in silver chains, strapped to a treatment chair. Two flasks turned upside down on grips, filled with a sickly yellow liquid on both sides of the chair on silver trays, catheter tubes twisting overhead, dangling over Roxxy's eyes forced open with ocular speculums.

"Observe!"

The clamps on the tube are released halfway, the strange liquid filling the tube briskly only to slow as it reaches the end as the liquid leaks in slow, steady beads, dropping onto her eyes.

The burning

The stinging

Like a thousand needles dragging against her eyes sporadically, scratching, aching, and digging deeper into her eyes, the corneas of her exposed eyes sizzled with a horrifying noise barely picked up by the microphones- grotesquely accompanied by a shriek of the sharpest soprano tone. The golden light that quickly tore the wounds was like a candle's gleam, warm and haunting in its radiance. Distressing were the bloodied tears that flooded down the sides of her face as she wept and howled.

Her back arched, straining against the binds that held her- fangs bared in agony at the distortion of her very vision.

What an awful, beautiful sound.

"The liquid you see is a diluted hydrochloric acid. Not enough to cause any major damage, but just enough to make the pain oh-so extraordinary."

Hyde ambles his way behind the chair, a most sinister smile on his face.

"Listen well, Dracul's. No matter how this is going to end, it changes nothing. You know… It's funny. I thought that maybe being a bachelor again would be freeing. But for the past near-century, I've been so bloody bored. Returning to playing these games with Barbie and Ken isn't the same. That's part of why I partnered up with the Prince. But you lot are so predictable that it's starting to feel like a repeat of the same. old. song. Is it me? Have I gone stagnant? I mean, probably not; I'm bloody perfect. But still, it feels like the same melody, chorus, and instruments. I feel like, it's time for a comeback. Step up my game, and make a real impact. I mean…Poppet and I always did talk about changing the world.

Mr. Hydes is on the rebound, baby! And my comeback is gonna set the whole world on fire! Literally! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!

Oh...which reminds me~

Did you know that there are fifty miles worth of catacombs under this estate? And they are ALL filled with high-end EXPLOSIVES! In approximately eighty-six hours, I will activate the denotation switch; this entire estate will be blown sky-high like the bloody Hindenburg in thirty minutes! Better play by the rules~

Oh! I know you have my clue, ya daft cunt! Mr. Idon'tknowwhoyouarebuti'msureyouranassholeandeventuallyi'mgonnahateyou!

Also, Alexander. I know you're watching. I just want you to know one thing. You're second-rate, Roxxy has never forgotten me even after all these years, but you know what they say. You never forget your first. Isn't that right, Poppet?

Oh! Can't forget, little Igor, time and time again, you have failed to protect your family! This is like, what, the third time you couldn't save your sister? Once against Stjephan and twice by Stjephan and me again. Interesting, isn't it? You're not a viceroy; you're a pet!

Lisaaaa~ Welcome back to the land of the living, you batty crone! Some mother you are, can't even protect her own daughter, and Stjephan? Sheesh, what a mess!

And Dracula.....oh, Drac...

The most ancient of leeches!

You know, you might be the worst of all of 'em, mate. How many times is it now that your family has suffered because you were just out of reach to protect them? Lisa, Adrian, sweet little Rokshana- you can't even make piece with the old goat downstairs for their sake, let alone keep them safe.

You're weak. You've let love make you soft!

And now you get to watch as I break and reshape your magnum opus into something better.

Something perfect.

EeeheheheheeAAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHA

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK DRACULS! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAA"

@xxlordalexanderxx, @hriobzagelthewanderer, @shatteredwastes, @bleedinghearth, @the-blackened-dove

#~dash commentary~ #𝓥: ♱ 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 #tw; body horror

[bb-editing]

ROXANA (Chapter 11)

“You smell like blood.”

After leaving Jeremy and Charlotte, I headed straight for the dungeon. Cassis, who had been studying me closely since my arrival, quietly commented about my appearance. I was humiliated. Just as he’d said, my hands and clothes were covered in dried blood from the encounter with Charlotte in the hall. I looked up at Cassis, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing happened. Besides, it’s not like you care.”

Cassis frowned slightly at my words, but how could I be honest with him? If I said that I’d gotten so drenched in blood by fighting with my siblings, would Cassis become more guarded? Worse still, the blood wasn’t mine. If I knew it would be like this, I would have changed before coming here. 

I let my brain chew on the thought, before opening my mouth. “I won’t be able to come for a while.” Cassis looked silently at my figure. Despite his faint vision, he could see the shape of a small girl reflected in clearer view than yesterday. 

“I won’t be gone too long… Maybe just a few days.”

‘Maybe this “Roxana” is injured somewhere,’ Cassis thought, despite knowing that he wasn’t in a position to be worrying about another person’s wellbeing besides his own. But the dank smell of blood emanating from the girl facing him still made him nervous. He hated how helpless he felt in every situation without his sight; it was horribly inconvenient.

“So until I see you again, be well. Though I am slightly worried, since there’s no one available to help you if you need it.” As per usual, her voice was calm, soft, and contemplative.

Cassis thought about how nice it would be to see her face the next time they met.

* * *

Two days later, I was informed that Charlotte had overcome the prison guard and forced herself into the dungeon. Worse yet, she had attacked Cassis and wounded him. “Hmm.” I pondered the situation unconsciously while leisurely sipping poison tea from Emily. How predictable. 

On the day of our “dinner,” Charlotte picked a fight with me over ownership of Cassis, though she was eventually defeated. I couldn’t stand that Cassis had suffered under my ownership, but had to stay still even if she angered me. Plus,  Jeremy would have beaten her up.

I should have guessed what was going to happen from the look on Jeremy’s face at the dinner table. He even tried to hurry me away first so that he’d be the only one with Charlotte. Unfortunately, Charlotte wasn’t willing to leave the issue alone, and threw a fit.

When the three of us brought up the topics of Cassis’ ownership to our father, he simply told us to leave it alone for a while. So despite her overwhelming rage, Charlotte had no choice but to hold off on executing Cassis’ murder lest she be disposed. She was so angry that she lost her appetite, and barely touched her food the entire time.

My father’s order was a big blow to her, and it was clear she had desperately wanted to ruin the first toy I’d wanted. Despite this, Cassis’ injuries were milder than expected. After all, all his limbs were still intact. Is Charlotte weaker than I thought? I even brought sutures.

“Additionally, it was reported that Miss Charlotte accidentally broke the prisoner’s restraints and was about to be attacked herself. It seems like she’ll be punished for that.” 

“What?” The hand holding my teacup went limp. The breaking of restraints? How unexpected. A hemp restraint, known for its top-class durability, if nothing else, was broken?

“This is getting interesting.” Impossible. It was obvious that Cassis had used a trick or fishy method of some kind. Granted, Charlotte is easily provoked and hysterical, it was impossible for her to “accidentally” break a hemp restraint. What if Cassis deliberately used Charlotte?

Of course, that may be overestimating him on my part, but he is the Pedelian heir- he even has the nickname ‘Silver Knight.’ I set the teacup down wordlessly. It seemed that I would have to visit Cassis one more time.

* * *

“Sister, did you hear about Charlotte?”

“Yes… I heard about the dungeon incident.”

That evening, Jeremy stopped by my room. He was a little dense and clingy, retelling Charlotte’s punishment in a small, ignorant voice. She had been imprisoned for twenty days in the punishment chamber. Father was clearly very upset with Charlotte’s direct breach of conduct, while I, on the other hand, found it difficult to be anything other than satisfied with such an outcome.

“So I guess the toy is ruined now. Should I stop going?” Jeremy’s voice grew even quieter, staring at me with his deep blue eyes. I thought about how fortunate it was that he barely resembled Lanche, save for the black hair. If his appearance had looked even a sliver more like Father’s, I would have hated him.

“I’m sure the toy isn’t that damaged, but what can we do?” I said in a slow voice, patting Jeremy’s head gently. With a more devilish smile, he said, “Sister, should I stop Charlotte from going down to the dungeon?” Ah. It must have been Jeremy who encouraged Charlotte to visit Cassis in the first place. It seemed like he was doing all my work for me. It was entertaining, especially considering that I knew the truth about the whole situation.

“Just let it go. If the toy’s life is doomed, Father will take care of it himself. He won’t tolerate being disobeyed twice.” And of course, since Charlotte was locked in the punishment chamber for a while, she won’t be able to get near Cassis, even if she wanted to.

“Jeremy, you’re not going to touch my toy as Charlotte did, are you?” I whispered. “You’re the only brother I trust.”

At that moment, he stopped and looked up briefly. Then he laughed softly. “Of course. I would never do what you don’t want me to.”

* * *

“Charlotte is such an idiot.” Jeremy exited Roxana’s room and into the hall, annoyed.

Of course, an Agriche being attacked after breaking a prisoner’s restraint was unforgiveable. “He’ll just be killed or tortured.” Jeremy’s eyes shone dark and cold. He wanted to kill that Cassis Pedelian, but couldn’t touch Roxana’s toys, even indirectly. 

“You're the only brother I trust.” Roxana’s words rang in his head- it was impossible to betray her trust. Damn it. But why do I feel so happy and proud? He scratched his head in confusion and headed for his room.

#roxana agriche #roxana agreche #roxana #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #korean webnovel #korean manhwa #reincarnation manhwa #manhwa #villainess manhwa #webnovel #dion agriche #isekai #villainess #webtoon

[knitting-goddess]

Star trek:Strange new worlds: the serene squall

T'prill wants to tru butt stuff./j she wants to explore his human side

Nurse chapel and spock are "friends"

You want to see this clichė

This lady slays lesbian energy crop top, tats, cartilage piercing.

Introooo it's more alien and newer but also flourishy and fancier but old elements are included.

The caption has been trying to reach you about your ships extended warranty

We in a net. Spock had to choose with emotion

Spock don't cut yourself on that half vulcan-half human edge

Do-death-ahedron

Orion raiders his name was Remy

He's queer coded. He called pike handsome.

Nurse chapel back woooo. She's badass.

Chilli.

Councilor my husband was maimed and killed. And he was a logical Vulcan emotion would have saved him

Mutiny

Angel? She's a captain.

Oh I came for spock rawr!!!

Slayyy queeen toying with pray.

Gaslight, girl boss, gatekeep, gay. Captian angel

An affair with nurse chapel okay it makes sense. All that tension

Fire gently like non lethal damage on a fireball

Romulan????

Her makeup slayyy.

Spock half brother.

Episode:Elysian kingdom

She's an 11yr old fan fiction writer lmaooo

Use a god damned centrifuge my guy.

Jinx you're self.

Delayed response.

Dafuq.

King?

She's slayy knight.

They in Renaissance Faire land. Fun love these episodes that go from Sci fi to fantasy they are always great.

Nurse chapel also does ASMR apparently

Mercury stone is that just Mercury or something different.

Doggo

Wizard.

Terrible magics.

Song or morning klingon death chant.

Oh my gods he's a hot half elf. Maybe he will actually have some edge. Gay vibes

Uhura is the queen slayyyyy my gods.

Daddy.

In the dungeon?!?!?

Keeps a knife on him.

Shoulder pads.

I hate to kill you you're Honorable or Indigo Montoya looking ass.

Huntress and Sir gay gay gay homosexual gay

No we are not chopping off my head.

Gay gay gay homosexual gay

He's getting not pegged by this evil queen calling it right now. But he wants it. Tbh

I want to see the 2+hr long video essay called Why queen neive was right. (Queen neive is internal queen in the story)

Hemmer wizard has a flame thrower calling it rn.

Please be gentle. Rawr.

Now una with lesbian huntress fantasies with her knight gf

Episode:all those who wander

Don't split the party

Hebra region.

They dead.is it amogus?

It's the abominable snowman. From star wars and Rudolph.

It vented.

Alien chest bursters. Alien and predator abilities heat vision.

Red shirt harmed. If you or a loved one has been harmed as part of star fleet security you may be entitled to financial compensation.

All this gorn reminds me of old videos of oz media playing alien vs predator 3

Alerted to sound

Unrelated but I love one pound yarn balls they are great so much yarn

Ohhh dry ice spooky

Piñata

Bro you're Andorian you love the cold they hate it, its logical.

Hes to emotionally in tune. Oh my God.

He's involved with this person.

Episode:A errand of mercy

Oh my God I'm you from the future.

Oh my God he had a pony. SIR Neighs alot.

It's the time stone!!!

They redoing tos scenes.

James and same kirk are brothers.

Kirk eh don't change things set. Don't like it.

Ah Romulans are just space drow. We get it.

Oh no kirk dies anyways. (As long as we got spock we fine)

Scotty!!!Scotty!!!!

Group call

Rick roll

Shredded.

Romulan and federation war.

Oh no spock died.

Spock is like that girl in life is strange (blue hair)

Spock you are very important to me.... okay a Lil bit of gay vibes hints of it.

Syndrome ass music.

Extras woot: this may just be a tos episode:balance of terror

Mawage is wat bwings us towgewter today wuv tuu wuv that bwesed awangement the dweam within a dweam. (Princess bride quote)

No there is ship to ship communications how would they vlog otherwise. (They are claiming otherwise) but I love how we have more advanced tech they couldn't even think of.

The "married" couple was in the same department and one outrank other that's bad like conflicting interests.

Burned soo good he may as well be anakin

Flash bang the enterprise. But they did a good job at recreating it

Okay slay makeuppp king.

Spock always looks pissed off its great.

I like the way that was written tldr leave your bigotry in your own quarters. Okay yes that is how you deal with it.

Bisexal romulan lighting okay slayyyu.

Hardest substance not toughest yeah you can crush hard substances

Spock being gay again.

Minigun tactic.

Yeet trash at them. To simulates being hit.

He fucking smiled when McCoy came in gay gay gay homosexual gay.

There are 10 million million million million particles in the universe that we can observe. Yo momma took the ugly ones and placed them into one nerd.

He looks so done with this shit and gay. Romulan gayness.

Oh no the gay vibes ahhhhh

Spock saves the bigots ass.

Oh no the person who was going to get married had her fiancé killed oh no.

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.10

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9

The day shift gives you ample time and opportunities to walk around the castle. Within a week, you come to know every chamber and pathway you hadn’t previously crossed, intimately.

At first, you pictured making your escape through a weak point in its fortification. The walls are ancient; You would have bet money on one of its parts having given out in the passing of centuries and gone unnoticed. Now, you know such a thing doesn’t exist. It doesn’t really surprise you that Alcina has made sure the exterior is in the same excellent condition as the interior.

But it is a problem.

The walls are too big for you to scale. If there are any stepping points, you can’t see them from within. You tried over and over to at least peak out into the back yard, but the shrieks and growls of monsters had you immediately changing course.

You don’t know what those things are and you’re not eager to find out. According to the older maids, there are more of them deep in the dungeons. It is only a rumor, of course, since nobody has ventured down there and returned to tell the tale.

Which, taking the window bars into account… leaves only one way out.

The front door.

You are aware that Lady Dimitrescu and the daughters all have a key on them. You know from Cassandra those are the only copies. Nothing enters or leaves unless one of them allows it.

There is not a snowflake’s chance in hell you’re getting Alcina’s key. She will murder you on sight. Bela won’t do anything to disappoint her mother, so that rules her out, as well. Daniela is the one most likely to misplace it or be persuaded to give it to you, but the girl is as unpredictable as she is sly and you won’t risk your wellbeing for a distant chance.

That means…

Cassandra is the only way out, isn’t she…

-

-

You lay low and await an afternoon where the cold is downright bone-piercing. As warm as the castle is, with fireplaces burning everywhere, you can still feel the stinging kiss of the outside frost every time you so much as go near a window.

And it all comes full circle right back to the start; You in front of Cassandra’s bedroom door, trembling with anxiety like the very first time. It is oddly fitting, in a way, that the story of the two of you ends where it began.

For a moment, you almost marvel at how long ago it feels, now. But there is no time nor space in your heart for sentimentality anymore. You stand at the point of no return.

And you cross it as soon as you turn the handle.

Cassandra’s bedroom is softly illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace. You walk forward cautiously, slowly, almost as if you’re expecting a landmine to go off at a single misstep. Except –well. A mine would be far more merciful. Just an explosion and then nothing. If Cassandra wakes…

You try not to think about it, lest your muscles lock in place.

Underneath the heavy covers of the bed, you see her, cocooned, pale fingers clutching tight at the blankets. It is too early for her to wake. She is deeply asleep, you tell yourself, simultaneously praying she doesn’t open her eyes.

You make it to her vanity, soundless. Her amber-jeweled choker and the necklace she and her sisters wear are neatly arranged, yet the key you’re looking for isn’t with them.

Shit. You inwardly curse, your hand shaking from the nerves. It means she’s put it in the drawer of her bedside table. It means you have to go next to her, to literally put your fingers in the sleeping wolf’s parted jaws and hope they don’t clamp down.

Easy, right?

An unsteady exhale later, you move further in and carefully kneel by the small furniture. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep—

But you make the mistake of looking to the side.

Cassandra’s expression is not relaxed in sleep like how you remember it from the time when you would wake her up. Instead, her brow is furrowed, the line of her mouth pressed thin. She’s shivering, you realize, either from the cold or a nightmare or both. Shadows dance across her beautiful face.

Your first instinct is still to reach over and soothe her. You hate it, but you’ve accepted you won’t be over whatever it is you feel for her in quite some time.

It is not your place anymore to touch her, you remind yourself. You cannot ease her through her fears now that she has become your own.

With a clenched jaw, you force your body through the motions of opening the drawer and taking the key within.

At last. Your freedom is in your grasp.

And yet.

Shouldn’t you be happier about it?

Cassandra’s voice nearly knocks the air out of your lungs when it reaches your ears, faint. “No… please…”

You forget how to breathe for a couple of seconds. When your wide eyes shift to her, though, you realize she’s merely talking in her sleep.

Leave. Leave while you can.

But your chest constricts when you hear her sob. “…don’t leave me here… please…”

And out of all the possible things she could say, she utters those words and smashes your glass heart with a sledgehammer into a trillion pieces. The shards cut into you and it hurts—

You pause at the door. The corners of your vision have started to blur.

And then the world snaps, sharply, back into focus when her tone changes;

“…Alexia…?”

Your eyes lock, hazel to amber-grey, for a split second.

You run.

-

-

You don’t think you have ever ran this fast in your entire life. But it’s different now that it is about your life.

Adrenaline rushes throughout your bloodstream. You’re not thinking, just acting. Just fleeing.

Death, in the form of a black swarm, closes in on you with every rapid heartbeat. Cassandra is faster –she can fly and you’re only human—and at this rate you won’t even escape the corridor, much less the castle.

Flies break ahead of the rest and attach themselves to you. The sting of their bite at your nape and arms nearly has you howling in agony. She meant it when she said she would kill you herself. Not that you doubted it. Not for a second.

Because if Cassandra can’t have you, she will make sure nobody will.

You didn’t want to hurt her back the first time, but the stakes are too high now. You grab the nearest solid antiquity in your panic and throw it with all your might against the nearest window.

Glass shatters and the temperature plummets with it. Over your shoulder, you hear her scream. More out of rage than pain.

The flies biting at you drop to the floor, grey and paralyzed. You hear her shout pierce through your eardrums like a gunshot as you dash towards the turn—

“You won’t ever get to that door, Alexia!”

From the corner of your eye, you notice a blur coming towards you and instinctively drop down. A heavy thump later, your frantic eyes fly to the wall to see her sickle embedded halfway through a painting. If you hadn’t reacted in time, that would have been you.

Still, she can’t cross the hallway now, so you scramble to your feet and run while she takes the long way around. Question is, will you make it to the front door before she does?

It becomes a race where the winner takes all.

You practically jump down entire sets of stairs in your struggle for survival and you have no clue how you do it. You just know you can’t slow down for even a second.

The castle feels ten times as large as it actually is. By the time you descend the last staircase and the sound of buzzing insects grows in volume, the entrance is within sight.

You reach for another decoration and smash another window. Cassandra slows down, forced to materialize out of the swarm before she can’t will her body back together at all.

You shove the key into the lock and turn it.

Cassandra fights through the rush of frozen air, taking step after weighted step towards you—

“I won’t…let you leave here…alive.” she hisses, her teeth bared at you, skin growing too pale yet eyes blazing.

“I’m done being your prisoner.” you say back, voice hoarse and raw…

And you open the door. Steps taken backwards carry you away from her faster than she can make it to you. You can see her pain and her frustration, but they cannot compare to your own.

Your wounds ache from the frost.

Cassandra seems just about ready to leap at you even if it will certainly mean something very bad for her—

Until a black blur shoves her a dozen meters back. Bela’s back stands between you and Cassandra’s cracking form. Daniela soon lands off to the side, looking between the two of them.

“Get out of the way, Bela!” Cassandra snaps.

“It’s over.” Bela replies, a grave finality to her voice.

Your breaths are coming out in harsh puffs of smoke. You still have trouble believing that you did it. That they can’t follow anymore. You did it.

“Nothing’s over!” Cassandra snarls and lunges for her elder sister.

The blonde, deadly calm, grabs her by the neck in a choke-hold and drags her closer to the nearly-extinguished warmth of the fireplace. The way Cassandra thrashes in her arms is downright heartbreaking.

Daniela looks at you, almost saddened, then back at her sisters.

“Shh. Calm down, Cassandra. Let go. Mother will be here soon. Don’t let her see you like this.” Bela says. “If you’ve any parting words to say to Alexia, say them now.”

You’re shivering. The cold nips through every layer of clothes you’re wearing to bite straight at your flushed skin. But you don’t move further away. You wait. Why am I even waiting, though?

Realization slowly sinks in, you can tell from Cassandra’s expression. Beyond the wounded pride of the apex predator losing a fight to a rabbit… she understands that she will never see you again.

Bela releases her and steps away, adjacent to Daniela.

“You’ve earned your freedom, Alexia.” Bela speaks under her hood. “Nobody’s ever managed to escape, before. Respect.” In another life, maybe her and you could have been friends. Maybe.

“So you’re really… leaving?” Daniela’s lower lip is slightly jutted into a little pout. “I… who will I use to get on Cassandra’s nerves, now?”

“I’d say it’s been nice, but.” you speak up between pants, birthing forth puffs of smoke. “I was taken from my home and sent here as a slave, so.” You can’t help the bitter grimace.

Cassandra’s chest is heaving, yet she isn’t looking at you. It doesn’t look like she has anything to say to you, either. But you have words for her, because you need to get this out at last, you need to be free of this weight or you will never really have escaped this nightmare.

“Even as your captive, you know what I fucking thought? You three can be so beautiful when you toy with the idea of basic human empathy. I don’t know what you saw our time as, Cassandra, but I was genuinely attracted to you. I wanted to be together with you. At some point, I was even happy!”

You’ve inhaled so much icy air your lungs probably won’t be doing great for very much longer but God, this is so cathartic. And so enraging that she’s not meeting your eyes now, at the very end of it all.

“Look at me! I care for you, deeply, but I can’t do this anymore! I don’t want to live in a cage as a pretty sacrifice, with you as my jailer. I can’t. You don’t know how psychologically destructive it is. You don’t know what it feels like!” you end with a hitched shout.

You hear the ominous sound of heavy heels hurriedly descending the staircase. “By Miranda! What is going on— Cassandra?!”

All three daughters freeze up for a moment.

Then Daniela touches her head as though she’s having a migraine and Bela shuts her eyes tightly, shoulders tensed. And Cassandra… drops on her knees to the floor, gasping for oxygen, clutching at her temples.

Bela shakes her head to snap out of it. Daniela still looks dazed and afraid… but Cassandra is nearly crying—

And then, in her panic attack, she whispers; “Don’t abandon me like they did, Alexia.”

You don’t know who she means or what you’re doing, until you’ve dashed back inside and gathered her chilled form into your arms, tight. You keep her there like you wish someone had held you during your storms. It doesn’t matter that you’re so much weaker than Cassandra, when what haunts her is too powerful even for her to face.

Alcina extends her claws as she advances on you.

You could probably still get away if you make a run for it, but where will you even go, when your heart is right here with the woman in your arms? The world beyond the village died for you a long time ago. The village died in a literal sense.

You wanted to be free. But freedom and being with her aren’t mutually exclusive. Why did it take me this long to figure it out…?

Alcina is too close now. You turn to kiss Cassandra’s hair for what may be the last time. You do not let go.

Bela and Daniela step in front of you.

Alcina gives them a warning, narrowed look.

“Uh— you know what, I just stepped forward because I saw Bela move. Haha, nevermind.” The redhead retreats once more. Maybe you’d roll your eyes at her if you weren’t bracing for your execution.

“Bela… step aside.” Lady Dimitrescu’s tone leaves no room for disobedience.

The eldest daughter lowers her head and hesitantly opens the path, as well.

Alcina casts a deep shadow over you in her massive height and giant claws. You lock eyes with her briefly, with the last, flickering cinders of your courage. Then you shift your face down into Cassandra’s shoulder and prepare to be skewered through. Her fingers clutch you almost painfully close to her.

“As for you…” there’s a growl in Alcina’s voice that makes you cower in terror.

Except...

The horrible pain you expected takes a little too long to come.

“…you have backbone, little human, I will admit.” Is that… is that a smirk you hear in her tone? “And my daughters do seem to want you around…”

…What?

Cassandra slowly pulls away from you to look up at her in disbelief and you dare to open your eyes. The claws are still uncomfortably close to your face.

“I will take responsibility for the damage, mother. Just, please, let her stay with me.” Cassandra says.

“…Hm. Very well. I expect the windows repaired by dinner.” Alcina gracefully pivots and just like that, takes her leave.

You and the sisters are left there, unbreathing, unmoving, wondering what just happened.

“Too cold. See you at dinner.” Daniela is the first to speak up. She rapidly waves and disappears like she’s being hunted by an army.

Bela glances at you, then at her middle sister. “We need to talk. But later. For now, defrost.” She, too, disperses in a swarm of flies.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically vulnerable, looks into your eyes and brings a crystalline hand to your cheek. The soft way she does it, it may as well be the apology she is too proud to voice. You both lean towards each other, resting your foreheads together.

You have a lot to talk about. But there is time.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #resident evil village #fanfiction #writing #we're almost at the end of this guys #thank you for all your sweet support #hope group therapy won't be needed

[likearmor]

do i wanna know? - draco malfoy

summary: typical enemies to lovers with draco malfoy and gryffindor! reader.

words: 2.8k

warning(s): SMUT, cursing,

(draco and reader aged up to 18)

if there's one thing that you knew for sure, it was that you absolutely despised draco malfoy.

and it wasn’t the normal slytherin and gryffindor rivalry, no, it was worse than that. even your friends said that you hated draco even more than harry potter did, and that was saying something. 

“he’s just an egotistical prick. he doesn’t care about anyone from himself, I swear, if he wasn’t all up snape’s ass I would punch him into oblivion,” you said to your group of friends, walking up the moving stairs back to the gryffindor common room for your free period before lunch. 

on your way there, hermione met up with you, ron, and harry and overheard your conversation. “what did he do this time?” she asked, sighing to herself that the conversation had turned to draco yet again. 

“breathed in her direction,” ron joked, earning a hit to the shoulder from you. “hey! sorry, sorry.” harry laughed from beside you, making you hit him in the shoulder too. 

“you guys are so mean, no, he did not just breath in my direction. he messed up my whole potion, put something in it while I had my back turned. snape made me restart it,” you explained. your three friends nodded, not deciding to argue with you because there was no point in trying to change your mind. its not like they liked him either, though sometimes they thought he didn’t deserve all of your wrath. 

~

you were sitting down on one of the fuzzy comfy chairs in the common room going over some of your history of magic notes with hermione when the two boys came down from the boys’ dorms. ron dropped a chocolate frog on your lap. “thanks,” you muttered, popping it into your mouth and humming at the good taste. you and ron lived for the sweets at honeydukes and you always shared stuff with each other. 

“you guys want to go to some slytherin party?” harry asked, sitting down on the floor underneath you.

hermione winced. “why would we go to a slytherin party?” it’s not like your group was one for going to parties in the first place. “plus, wouldn’t they get busted by snape or someone in the slytherin common room? how would we even get in there?” 

“calm down,” harry said to hermione. “you worry too much sometimes ‘moine. it’s in the room of requirement so only the people who know about it can go. teachers wont find it at all even if they wanted to, top secret.” 

you shut your textbook and set it down on the floor. “sure, why not?” you said, looking at the clock. “what time is it at?” 

your friends looked at you with concern. ron even stopped eating his every flavored beans to give you a concerned look. hermione’s eyes were open wide and harry turned around to look at you. “what?” you asked. 

“you really just volunteered to go to a slytherin party?” ron said. 

“so what?” 

“you, y/n, someone who hates slytherins more than anyone else I've ever known, wants to go to a slytherin party?” ron asked again. “no, doesn’t make sense. you have to be a clone or something.” 

you rolled your eyes. “shut up, I only hate one slytherin. and there will be loads of people there, I probably wont even see him there. c’mon, lets go have fun. it might be more fun than you guys think.”

everyone agreed, even hermione who you thought was just going to stay in and get some of her homework done. soon enough, you were up in the girls’ dorms to get ready for the party. you put on a white sweater and some black jeans, hair coming up in a half down half up style. you looked hot. 

you made sure that hermione also looked hot, you even convinced her to wear a shorter black top. now all you had to do was meet the boys and make your way down to the room of requirement. it was friday and you wanted to party. maybe it would be fun and maybe it would help you let loose after this stressful couple of weeks. 

you walked down with your group to the enterance of the room of requirement, seeing the door appear the second that you got there. making sure that the coast was clear, you all scurried into the busy room. there was shouting and conversations over some loud music in the big room. you could see loads of different people from every type of house. 

“im gonna go look for a drink,” ron said, pushing past you and getting lost in the sea of people. you walked with hermione to the farthest edge of the party. from there you guys leaned against one of the stone walls. in your line of vision, you could see people like seamus finnegan and dean thomas dancing with lavender brown, pulling in harry to dance along with them. 

hermione struck up a conversation with some hufflepuff boy beside you. “hey, im gonna go get something to drink too,” you said to her. you pushed off the wall and made your way towards the drink stand. 

from behind you, you heard someone say, “I didn’t think that I'd see you here.”

draco malfoy. just the person you didn't want to see. 

“what do you want, malfoy,” you said, not even turning around to look at him. you kept making your way for the drinks, hoping that you would loose him in the crowd or he would get too bored to mess with you. “don’t you have some hole to crawl back into?”

he laughed. “no, just wanted to see what the hell you’re doing here, y/n. this is my party, I thought I knew all the guests coming and I just saw you come in with potter and his lot.” you reached the table with the drinks and poured some firewhiskey into a disposable cup. 

draco finally reached you and stood across the table. he was wearing a typical black dress shirt and pants, his slytherin tie loosely fitted around his neck. in the back of your mind you thought about how good he looked, but the second that you thought it you wanted to punch yourself in the face for ever thinking something like that. especially about draco malfoy. 

“you don’t know everything about me,” you said to him, a tone of aggression lacing your words. “you know, im not that predictable.” 

“I beg to differ. you hang out with potter and his lot, you’re a high and mighty gryffindor, and you hate slytherins.” 

you laughed, downright laughed at his accusations, downing your drink and pouring yourself another. you could feel the alcohol burn in your throat and settle in your stomach. it wouldn’t take long before you started to feel the affects of it as well. “I don’t hate slytherins, I just hate you, malfoy,” you yelled over the shouting of peoples conversations. “see? you’re wrong.” 

“well then, what do you think of me?” draco asked. 

you walked up to him, setting down your drink and getting all up close and personal. you could feel his breath fanning onto your face as you leaned closer to meet his line of vision. “I think that . . .” you started, jabbing your finger into his chest, “that you’re an egotistical, obnoxious, slytherin prick. who pokes fun at people to get a rouse out of them just for your entertainment.” 

draco’s grey eyes stared into yours with an intensity you have never seen before. it made your knees feel weak as you stood up to him. “wow,” he said. “you really know how to party with all this psychology don’t you?” 

“oh, I know how to party,” you argued. 

draco cocked an eyebrow up. “really? show me then, come dance.” 

“why would I ever dance with you?” you asked. 

draco didn’t respond, only taking a shot of his drink and stretching a hand open for you to take it. a few moments passed by as you weighed your options. you could laugh in his face and leave, spill your drink on him and then leave . . . or you could take his offer. you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol about to take affect or if you were just feeling risky (probably both in the scheme of things), but you downed the rest of your tall drink and took his hand. 

he led you to the dance floor where most of the drunken kids were swaying to the beat of the loud music. the second you got a rhythm set up, you turned your back to him and swished your hips around. you couldn’t see his face, but he seemed to enjoy it because of his hands that rested on either side of you two seconds later. 

it felt good to finally let loose for a while, and if felt even better not trying to keep yourself together. it was easier tolerating draco than actually hating him. not to mention, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, he was looking even more hotter than he was a couple minutes ago. 

“what are you staring at?” he asked you, pulling you closer. 

you hummed. “nothing.”

draco opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by saying, “christ, you talk to much.” 

you pulled his face towards you and kissed him, long and hard. he tasted like firewhiskey and a hint of peppermint and his cologne tempted you in for more. the second you pulled away to take some air, he was pushing in for more. you happily obliged, turning the kiss into an open mouth one. it wasn’t just a normal kiss either, you wanted draco. hell, you felt like you needed draco. and it felt even more extreme because to everyone else, you hated him. but that wasn’t what you really felt for him. you didn’t know what your feelings were for draco. 

it took a little bit of convincing on his friends’ part to allow for draco to leave, but after finally getting him to pull away from the party, both of you spared no time to get out of the room of requirement. you guys practically ran to the dungeons to the slytherin common room, your hands reaching up to undo his tie and buttons while he put in the password. 

no one was in there because virtually every slytherin was at the party, so no one heard your giggles as he picked you up and led to you his dorm. you giggled all the way there, feeling your back hit his bed. 

“who would’ve known I would have y/n l/n in my bed,” draco muttered, helping you take off his shirt and throwing it to the opposite side of the room. 

you laughed, pulling up your shirt over your head and making it join his on the floor. “don’t take this the wrong way malfoy, but I still hate you.”

“we’ll see about that.” 

once both of you were properly in your undergarments, draco laid on top of you, his lips reattaching to yours in a searing kiss. his hands rubbed your sides up and down, gripping your skin. you could feel his cold rings on your skin and it made you crave him, feeling the heat between your thighs get even more intense. 

your hands reached down to push his boxers down, but draco’s met yours and swatted them away, putting them back on his back. at first you were going to pull him away to ask why, though you didn’t have the chance when one of his hands delved into the front of your panties. 

the second that his fingers hit your clit you were moaning into his mouth, pressing your hips up to meet his hand. you could hear him snicker a little bit, just a second ago you were saying you hated him and here he was making you keel into his touch. a second later he was kissing along your jawline, making his way down to your neck and sucking. “I can’t have hickeys, malfoy,” you said through shortened breaths. 

“too bad, princess,” draco said against your neck, pushing a finger into you and making a ‘come here’ motion with it. your back arched and you breathed in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut as he pushed in and out, eventually adding a second finger too. his wet kisses trailed all around your neck, stopping in a few places to give you some marks. 

the way that he was making you feel . . . it was surreal. it was making you feel like you were alive. even if it was just going to be for this moment, all you wanted to think about was draco malfoy. 

“fuck, draco,” you moaned, feeling his fingers hit just the right spot to make your toes clench. his thumb came up and pressed against your clit, which almost sent you over the edge. it was almost embarrassing at how easily he could make you come undone, but you were enjoying it too much to care. 

as soon as you were about to cum, his fingers pulled out of you, and he looked up at you to give you a devilish smirk. “not yet,” he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek and pulling his boxers down onto the floor. you took the time to look him over, seeing how hot he looked in the moment. his blonde hair was disheveled and his cheeks were a little red from the lack of air, and the second you looked down your eyes widened. he was big. probably the biggest you had ever had. 

“are you sure about this?” draco asked, stopping for a moment at what you two were about to do. you bit your lip, taking a few moments to take it all in. “because if you don’t, you don’t have to. . .”

you nodded, stopping what he was saying. “yes, I do.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. the second that he pushed into you, your eyes widened and an elongated moan came out from between your lips. draco also made a noise, which sounded so hot that you were sure would be etched into your brain for the days to come. 

he went at a steady pace, thrusting into you rhythmically with an intensity you had never felt before. of course he was good at this. “right there,” you said, back arching as his hands stayed pressed against your hips to keep you in place. 

you were already really close from his fingers, so it didn’t take you too long to get back into things. 

“you’re taking me so well,” draco said, going at a little bit of a faster pace. he rutted his hips against you that you knew that there would be marks there in the morning. he came down and kissed you again, his tongue pressing into yours and exploring your mouth. 

you gasped. “im not going to last much longer.” 

“then cum,” draco said, motioning his hips around in a circular motion. his hand also came down to play with your clit, which sent you right over the edge. your head came back as you moaned, riding out the rest of your orgasm. not even two thrusts later he was also coming undone, pulling out and doing it on your stomach. 

both of you stayed there with each other gasping for breath, your skin sticking to his from the sweat. draco finally got up and went to the bathroom that was connected to the room, coming back with a washcloth in his hand and pulling his boxers back up. he cleaned your stomach, throwing the cloth into a hamper with his clothes in it and laying down next to you again. 

you couldn’t believe that you had just fucked your sworn enemy. 

and you couldn’t believe that it was the best sex you had ever had in your entire life. 

fuck. 

“I should go,” you said to him, standing up and searching for your clothes on the floor. you put them on quickly, watching him sit up on his elbows and look at you. “if anyone sees me in here they’ll have a cow.” 

“is that the only reason? or because you hate me?” he put air quotes around ‘hate me’.

“fuck off malfoy,” you said, brushing out your hair with your fingers and going towards the door. 

you heard draco laugh. “I'll see you again, yeah?” 

you stopped in your tracks at his words, still facing the door. you could feel your knees quiver at the opportunity of doing this again with him. it was tempting, thats for sure. but you had to get your priorities straight before then. or find someone else, because it was draco malfoy. not just some random guy. 

“if you’re lucky, draco,” you said, opening the door and shutting it, leaving him in his dorm and going to make some excuse to your friends as to where you had been. 

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 23

The Darkling x Reader

Aleksander walked into the dungeons not long after you, Zoya briefing him as you stood over the man who had caused a ruckus in your Palace. You were getting tired of his lies and fibs, basically begging to force the information out of his yourself but alas Ivan had some morals, telling you that the truth would come out of him in due time without the need for torture. Pity.

'I've been swindled, hoodwinked' he cried and you huffed, retreating to Zoya's side in annoyance. This man had some nerve lying in a room with 2 Heartrenderers.

'My guards tell me that they caught you fleeing the scene of the crime.'

'Yes, I followed them.'

'Followed whom?'

'They come from the other side of the Fold. From the start, they seemed, just, a bit off to me...-' You banged the back of your head against the wall in frustration, your patience wafer-thin. Zoya too looked done with the situation. Her jaw ticking in a telltale sign of annoyance.. '-So I ran.'

'How much of that is true?'

'He did cross the Fold with the others-' Ivan started but you cut in to finish.'-the rest were lies.'

You watched as Aleksander and Ivan entertained the man but your nerve had snapped for these theatrics. You needed to get the information and act on it, not make a spectacle. The man was already practically dead so why was he even trying to cover up his true identity?

Aleksander pulled up his sleeve and the tally on his arm was visible from your place at the wall. Countless journeys through the Fold burned into his skin in line form, a tradition used in all of Ravka by members of the public and First-Army.

'That is certainly entertaining. You are the Conductor, Arken Visser, are you not? You smuggle Grisha out of my palace! You help them abandon the war effort.' You were getting tired now, Aleksander had always played with his prey but this was dragging on and you had a growing list of urgent things to do: a dead Inferni to tend to, a missing sun-summoner to find, and a royal proposal.

You sighed loudly again, starting a slow pace around the dimly lit dungeon. To Arken you looked intimidating, his terrified eyes followed your steps around him, but all you were doing was keeping your boredom at bay.

'No. I deal in legal indentures. I don’t mess with Grisha.'

'Lie' both you and Ivan mused.

'I don't need them to tell me'

'Saints, hurry this up' You muttered under your breath as you rounded around to Zoya again. Being the good soldier she is, she ignored you. Your ears perked up and actually started listening as the trembling man confessed his ties with Zlatan, only then did your petty behavior pause momentarily.

'You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin'

'That’s right.' You smiled at his concrete confession, having enough evidence now to use and to kill him. You thought back to the Inferni in the chapel as Arkin mentioned the Ketterdam thieves, did they do that too?

Aleksander turned his head to the side toward Zoya signaling for her to leave. You looked to Ivan and nodded in her direction, instantly assuming you were to stay. Ivan looked less than happy but obliged.

'And the dead Inferni in the chapel? Was that part of the thieves' plan?' You spoke up.

Arkin looked up at you with wide eyes 'That was not me, I swear. I can't be sure it was them either' You scoffed as his heartbeat remained steady indicating no lies. Great, I don't even have the murderer. Aleksander walked away from him, throwing a glance your way as he walked away too. You didn't need to be told what to do, you just did what you yearned to do the second you laid your eyes on the Conductor.

'Tell me how I can help' He shouted as you took a step back creating a distance.

'You already have.' Aleksander's voice echoed in the halls. You raised your hand with elegance and looked into the man's eyes one last time before his demise. Shadows pooled around your feet and fire enthralled the clothes on his back. The vein in his neck grew prominent as your other hand clenched into a fist. His shouts and screams were silent in your ears, a skill you had managed to master years ago to preserve your sanity.

'You don't mess with Grisha, Arkin.'

*****

Hours had passed and the work never stopped. Sleep was long forgotten that night. Aleksander was beside himself too, the search for Alina and the Stag weighed on him heavily, and now with the added search for Nina Zenik he hadn't slept a minute too. You needed to tell him about the Queen, as minutes ticked you cursed your cowardliness and fear. You were scared to tell him. You admitted it, but that fear was nothing in comparison to dread bubbling inside of you on how he would react.

Your steps were slow and lazy, the winter fete gown still on your body. There was a burn on the bottom of it from Polin, the twin sister of the dead Inferni. Upon telling the woman her brother was dead, her grief overcame her and momentarily had a mind of its own. You told her it was okay, but the smell of smoke still loomed around you like a reminder of the night.

Your frame was now in direct line of vision of the open door of Aleksander's study. Fedyor stood in the center of the room, his red kefta eerily similar to the roaring fire. You hesitated to walk in, but your feet dragged you in any way. Compared to Aleksander who'd been in the same predicament as you, you looked chaotic. Your once gorgeous gown was now dirty and burned gown, your hair falling down your shoulders in a tangled mess and the undereye bags contending with Aleksander's kefta. You looked like you'd been to hell and back. So when Fedyor cast a worried look at you on his way out, you simply shrugged and sat down in the chair, shoulder slacking and eyes drooping.

'I'm leading a team to search for the criminals at sundown, care to join?' He closed the doors and walked to a teapot, pouring a mug and handing it to you with a gentle kiss on your head. A sweet gesture but not sweet enough to push your worries aside.

'Aleksander sit down' It came out in a clipped tone and surprised him.

'What?

'Sit down' You waved your hand and the gust of wind pulled out the chair opposite you. Waiting until he sat down, you took your sip of the hot liquid. His body settled into the chair then his eyes studied your face too closely for your liking so you cleared your throat and turned your head away from him, suddenly feeling shy.

'I spoke with the Queen.'

'And?' He was alert and upright, leaning closer to you in an abrupt second. You blew out a breath and choked down the lump in your throat. You were most certainly not going to cry. You started ranting, letting your words run free and take over the panic in your mind.

'Ummmm, well it's definitely not what you think. It wasn't what I thought anyway. I thought maybe she would ask me to be her advisor or something I don't know bu-'

'Y/N what did she say?' He was growing impatient.

'She wants me to marry the Prince. Not just her, the King too.' You set down the hot mug and smoothed out the disaster of a dress on your lap. Your lips pulled down into a frown but you willed yourself not to cry. Don't cry.

'.....what?' His eyes were wide now, you could see his jaw clench.

'It didn't feel like a question. I think she has something on me.' You had been trying to push that thought away as hard as you could but you felt safe telling Aleksander. 'She didn't explicitly say it, but her words weren't kind or gentle. It wasn't a proposal. It felt like a 'do this or else' kind of situation' You played with the handle of the mug to distract yourself from his gaze and your urge to let the waterworks flow.

'I don't know what to do.' As if the burning in your throat wasn't enough, your steady voice cracked toward the end of that sentence, letting the first tear drip from your eye. You let go of the mug and crossed your arms against the table surface.

He didn't say anything just sat back in the chair, letting a hand through the softness of his black hair. Somewhere deep down you felt relief- relief that he wasn't jumping at the opportunity to marry you off.

'Are you sure? What would it be?'

'I can't be sure but I'm being careful. There's only one thing it can be' You let your head fall into your folded arms, shielding away from him in case the sobs you were holding back burst out of your seams. There was only ever one thing you had done that could be used against you and to this day it haunted your nightmares. The gruesomeness of it keeping you up at night.

'Did you give her an answer?'

'No.' The table shook as his fist came down on it harshly after a brief and stealthy silence.

'You're not doing it. No way' You heard his chair move back and his boots walk toward you. His hands came to pick your arms up off the table and haul you up to his height. All his attention was fixed on you. 'Did you hear me? No. I mean it. Don't do that to yourself.'

'It didn't seem like a choice Aleksander'

'Then make it one. Over my dead body are they going to take that away from you' His grip on your arms tightened as he spoke those words and you had no shadow of a doubt he meant them. You had your ups and downs together, but Aleksander rarely ever lied about things like this.

'You don't belong with them, you belong here in the Little Palace and you're not leaving again' His gaze was hot and intense, the anger and rage from the night building up and boiling over.

In that moment, Aleksander had snapped. The Crown was taking you away from him, just like they had done with Luda and countless others. He swore to protect you all those years ago and he was finally going to do right by you.

'I'm not letting that sobachka take you away from me.'

---------

Part 24

Masterlist

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!) @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy @carlywhomever @allisjustok @keepdaydreamingbb @luciadiosa @azkahanif

#shadow and bone #the darkling #the darkling x reader #ben barnes #grisha #alexander #alexander morozova #alina starkov #fanfic #imagine #general kirigan x reader #black general #general kirigan #kefta #series #shadow summoner #aleksander morozova x reader #keftas #little palace #one shot

[askdracomalfoyofficial]

╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮

𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝

╰━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╯

The Mirror of Erised is an ancient, ornate mirror with clawed feet and a gold frame. It’s said that the Mirror shows the most desperate desire of a person’s heart, a vision that has been known to drive men mad. The writing engraved in the frame of the mirror was a forgotten foreign dead language but if one looks closely it says: ‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire.’ backwards.

It’s rumored that men have stood before it, wasted away not knowing if what they have seen was something real, or even possible. It’s as though the mirror had latched a hook around you, pulled you in and forced you to see what could be just beyond the mind's subconscious. But what would happen when a certain Slytherin stumbles upon this mirror, and what are the things that he may be shown?

The Mirror was supposed to be taken elsewhere after an incident with Harry Potter, but for some reason it was still around in third year, lingering like a ghost in the corner of a dark room. With how tempting the thing could be, you’d swear that it was whispering to you, pulling you in like you were in some sort of trance. That’s exactly what was happening with Draco Malfoy.

Third year was so much different compared to the last two, and it seemed as though things were just going to get even more interesting for this year. Though, he questioned how things would go within the next four years.

One lonely dark night while wandering the corridors, usually he wasn’t someone who went out of their dormitory passed curfew but there was just something itching at the surface that he wanted – perhaps needed to do. That’s when he felt the deep urge to head towards an abandoned wing of the castle, where nobody usually goes. With his wand raised, and a Lumos casted. He dipped into alcoves to hide from Filch and Mrs. Norris, but would continue on his way towards this ‘pull.’

That’s when he found it, as if it was whispering to him. Telling him to come, come see your desires that are hidden beneath where not even you, yourself could reach, even if you think you know what your true desires are. It was manipulating, a trance within a trance of its own. How strange of a magical artifact.

Slowly, he proceeded further into the empty room until he stood tall in front of the mirror. His platinum blonde hair brighter than his Lumos. “Nox.” He whispered, and the delicate glow faded from the tip of his wand before sliding it into the pocket of his robes. His molten gray eyes staring through the mirrors surface, staring back at himself mainly. Slowly reaching his hand up to glide his fingers along the golden ornate frame as the coldness seeped through the pads of his fingers while he secretly admired it.

Pulling his hand away, a brow arched. “What is my deepest desire?” He questioned. Though he swore he already knew the answer. It was power. He wanted power. He was already wealthy, that was something he didn’t need more of as he was completely set in life. Eyes closing, and he entered a meditative state as if to clear his head of anything that may mess up with what the mirror could show him, or what the mirror perhaps knew.

When his eyes slowly fluttered opened; nothing was there but just himself. There was no sign that he even desired this said ‘power.’ There was nothing in there about his future. Perhaps there was a flicker of something with not being the greatest Malfoy disappointment to his father but it didn’t linger very long. Instead, a female appeared, making his head quickly turn around to look over his shoulder to see if anyone had come in, but no one was there. When he turned back... there she was.

“You’re bloody kidding, right?” He spoke to the mirror as if it was a joke, because this certainly was not what he desired at all. Draco shook his head disapprovingly. “No. I refuse to accept that this is what I desire. You’re a phony. That’s what you are!” He raised his voice. For a student who was sneaking out of their dormitory to come stand before a mirror, yelling probably wasn’t a good idea. He just – he couldn’t accept what he was seeing.

Hermione Granger.

Mudblood.

The Brightest Witch Of Our Age.

Gryffindor know-it-all, swot.

There she was, standing before him the Mirror’s surface in a raven-colored dress with her hair slightly pinned back. Her skin glowed like a light had been casted over it showing her fairly sun-kissed tone. Her brunette curls seemed tamed, and for a moment Draco got curious of how her hair would feel falling through the spaces of his fingers.

He shook his head. No, no, no. This has to be all wrong or something.

Hermione in the mirror was moving, she seemed much like the one he knew. Innocent looking, someone who’d have her nose buried deep inside a book. Getting all the correct answers and topping him in all his bloody classes. She looked elegantly beautiful; it was terrifying to see her like that. Maybe he was dreaming, oh, he hoped that he was.

But there was a drafted breeze that shifted around in the room, blowing dust bunnies and dirt around on the floor leaving goosebumps to wake on his skin, and hairs to stand on ends at the back of his neck. Of course, that creepingly odd sensation that in a way told him that this may or may not be real. Though, he wanted to stay, and maybe that’s where he goes wrong.

She smiled at him. She bloody smiled at him, and how dare she even spread those filthy lips. How dare she even come about in the damn Mirror. No, how dare him for even coming here in the first place. Now, when and if he leaves. He’s just going to sit there and think about what the hell he’d just seen, and perhaps the way he treats her may even change and... no – no that cannot happen, will not. He refuses to let this be the case.

His mind was not his friend right now, it wasn’t helping in a situation such as this, at this time.

Draco got frustrated, ripping out his wand. “Lumos.” It lit, and the light casted over the shadows in the room, even made Hermione in the mirror fade away. He shook his head angerly and left the room all together. Leaving behind the Mirror of Erised. “What a bloody waste of time.” He grumbled to himself, quickly making his way through the corridors and back to the dungeons.

That night had come and gone the moment his head hit the pillow. Exhaustion sweeping over and covering over his body like a blanket full of comfort. Morning came, and the sun peaked through the windows just barely. Every student got dressed in their robes, including Draco himself. He didn’t wake up in a good mood, after what he had seen and dealt with last night it was something no one would understand; nor was it going to be something he even spoke to anyone about. It wasn’t anyone's business anyways.

“Hello Draco.” Pansy greeted once he took a seat at the Slytherin table. “Did you sleep well?” She asked, why did she even bother half the time anyways?

“It doesn’t look like he did, Pansy.” Goyle chimed in.

“Was I asking you? Is your name Draco?”

“No, obviously not. I answered because it doesn’t look as though Malfoy is in the talking mood, now does it? You aren’t very observant to these kinds of things, I'm not at all shocked.”

Pansy’s mouth gaped open, her eyes fleeted towards Draco as if he was going to stand up for her or something, waiting for him to defend her. Except he wasn’t even listening in on the conversation, nor was he even watching either of the bicker about him. Usually when it came to someone talking about him, his ears would get that tingly, buzzing feeling – either that or just gets that weird strange sensation inside that someone was talking about him. This time around though? He wasn’t at all moved.

They continued talking, and he drowned them out. Thinking back to last night when he snuck out, and went to the bloody forsaken room. His eyes wandered towards the Gryffindor table, in search for a certain bushy-haired brunette know-it-all witch, and for a moment he thought maybe she wasn’t there but just then she took a seat with Harry and Ron, smiling about with her eyebrows fairly loose. Her hair was slightly pinned back, much like how he had seen in the Mirror.

In the moment; she seemed so care-free, like a feather blowing in the gentle breeze. Twirling, and furrowing to its freedom. He must’ve been staring a little too long, because the next thing he knows, her eyes met his. His expression was stoic; unreadable – almost expressionless. Matter-of-fact, his heart had just dropped to the pit of his stomach. She just figured him out, all in one quick look and head on eye contact.

Their eyes remained locked. She looked almost passive aggressive, as if she was partially disgusted but also partially shocked that he was even looking at her in the first place. She was probably thinking that he was going to curse her for even looking at him, for holding that eye contact for little over a minute now. For a moment, he swore that her breath caught in her throat because her lips parted.

Her delicately soft pink lips formed a space between once was a pressed thin-line.

Draco broke it first. Turning his head away from her, and reverting his gaze back to Goyle and Pansy while they bickered.

“You never chew with your mouth closed.” She complained, (even though Goyle did chew with his mouth closed now thanks to Draco, of course).

“And you’re just always complaining about something.”

A gasp.

“You both are bloody annoying. You do know that right?” Draco finally said something, letting his eyes shift back and forth from the two. “Always on about something.”

They both shut up. It’s like they had been Imperio'd or something, because anything he says or does something they seem to either listen or just go along with it. It liked that; he liked the power he had and didn’t care. That’s what he thought – no that’s what he was sure he would’ve seen in that bloody mirror. Now that he can’t stop thinking about Her, he wanted to destroy the thing. Get rid of it.

But as of right now, his thoughts were just going to be consumed by what he’d seen in it. Hermione Granger, the little golden girl was what he desired,

And he hated it.

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter universe #fanfiction #fanfiction author #dramionestan #dramione fandom #dramione supremacy #mirror of erised #writers

[callsign-mischief]

The Gift of a Weasley Sweater is a Powerful Thing [F.W.]

Day 23 prompt of ‘A Very Harry Potter Christmas’ : ‘Weasley Sweater’

Thank you so much to @jamilelucato and @whack-ed for letting me participate in this writing challenge! I am so sorry it is extremely late, please forgive me. Hope you like it!

Fred Weasley x Female!Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: Mention of fighting, Umbridge, Umbridge’s using that quill, George being mean, a few cuss words, mention of  “bloodtraitor” *if I missed anything that should be put into the warning, please let me know!* 

Word Count: 6.5k (so sorry!)

As the Christmas holiday was quickly approaching and many students were preparing to leave the comfort of Hogwarts to spend time with their respected families, it was becoming increasingly normal to see different love-sick couples scattered about the castle basking in each other's presence to soak up every last ounce of time they could before being separated by the long vacation. What wasn’t normal, however, was seeing Fred Weasley spending any, and almost every, spare second he had with a girl doing the exact same thing. And to make it even more unusual, a Slytherin girl! 

It was a few days before Christmas break and George Weasley has had enough of seeing his brother act like a lovesick fool.

“I do not know what is going on in that head of his but I’m right ‘bout to take my beaters bat and knock some sense into him. Thank Merlin she’s not wedged her way into coming home with us!” he huffs sending silent daggered glares toward his twin brother sitting a few feet down the way at the Gryffindor breakfast table with his serpent of a girlfriend nestled into his side. He couldn’t stand the sight. How did Fred Weasley, a proud Gryffindor of all people, become entranced with none other than a snake? It just didn't make sense! 

From across the table, Lee Jordan casts a glance up towards the inter house couple before returning to face the boiling redhead sitting across from him. “Honestly George, I don’t know why you hate her so much, you've never even actually met her! She is actually quite nice y’know? She helped me escape Snape once, it was brilliant!” 

“She’s a Slytherin, Lee! The whole lot of them can't be trusted…” he grumbles, taking a quick bite of his slice of toast before sipping his pumpkin juice and clearing his throat. “I don’t know what game she's playing but I’m gonna find out what it is. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Lee could understand where the boy in front of him was coming from. Fred had never taken a liking to any Slytherin house member before, no matter who they were, up until the week before the end of the previous school year when you had transferred to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons. “Just give her a chance George. You never know, she could be genuine in her love or whatever she feels for him and not be as bad as you think!” 

On top of what George, and almost everyone else at Hogwarts, was already putting up with this school year (aka Professor Umbridge terrorizing the school and you know whos return creating chaos amongst the wizarding world) George didn’t want to add having to be civil with a snake to his list of things to deal with. 

“Yeah...guess not but still! She has not approached any of us, his siblings, to get to know us and they have been cozied up since she got here last semester! In my book, that's already a bad sign.” he frowns looking at the couple again. 

Meanwhile down the table, the two lovesick teenagers are conversing amongst themselves, oblivious to the pointed looks from her boyfriend's twin.

“So I have Ron, George, and Ginny’s gifts all wrapped up and ready to be handed out...and I was thinking, maybe I could come up to the common room later after lessons and give them out? What better time than to finally let me meet them and get to know them than Christmas!” she asks, voice dripping with excitement and hope. 

A grin graced his lips as he admired her excitement. “That sounds like an excellent idea, love, but with Umbridge, I don’t think it’s safe to be going into others common rooms.” 

“I really would love to officially meet them, Freddie. We’ve been dating for three months and you haven’t introduced me to any of them. They’re your siblings, part of what makes you,you! Especially George. I mean come on- he’s your twin! Your other half! And when has Umbridge terrorizing the school ever stopped you from breaking the rules? I can come up and watch them open presents, maybe stay the night so I don’t get caught sneaking back to the dungeons….we can spend some time in the common room after everyone’s gone to bed?” you giggle playfully.  

“You had me at ‘stay the night’!”

Another giggle slips past your lips as you peck his lips before rising from the bench. “I thought you would like that idea. I am off to see Professor Snape before my potions lesson starts, I will see you later in Transfig, yeah?”

Fred nods quickly, leaning up to peck your lips once more before you turn and strut out of the Great Hall. He watches you go with that same dopey smile on his face and his eyes swirling with pure adoration. He was in love. 

After a hefty handful of morning classes, a quick lunch with friends, Transfiguration with Fred (whom of which you got to spend no time with due McGonagall partnering you with other people) and one intense charms lesson, it was finally time for your favorite part of the day; your free period. You weren’t sure how you got so lucky to have a free period at the end of the day but you definitely weren’t going to complain. 

Normally you would spend the free period in the Slytherin common room, on the Quidditch pitch practicing, or in the Room of Requirement (which had quickly become yours and Fred’s spot when he decided to skip afternoon lessons), but today you decided to change things up and direct yourself to the library. You had spent your fair share of time amongst many stacks of the old, dusty books for studying purposes and to grab different for-fun reading material but hardly ever did you come in here to spend your free time. 

Upon entering, you quickly set your course for the small ‘Muggle Fiction’ section that had been added in recent years, in search of a new adventure to lose yourself in. Your study partner, Hermione was the one to actually introduce you to the section and recommend a few novels to try reading and you turned out loving them all. Despite being a pureblood and having the nasty ‘I hate everything Muggle’ stereotype follow you around everywhere like a shadow, your heart couldn’t help but get excited about Muggle literature, your favorite genre so far being Romance.

Once you have made your pick of entertainment, you gravitate your way to a back corner nook of the library to get comfy-that is until you see the back of a familiar mop of fiery red hair fluttering between shelves before plopping down at a table with his books. 

Having not been able to contain the excitement of seeing your man (even though he should be in potions), you quickly divert your course to him, staying quiet with a beaming grin on your face. Once close enough behind him, you reach out, playfully covering his eyes with your hands blocking his vision from the herbology book he had been scanning through. 

"Guess who, Freddie." You giggle. 

"What the bloody hell? Get off of me!"

Your eyes went wide in horror upon hearing the voice of the man who was definitely not your boyfriend!

"Oh, Salazar, I'm so sorry! I thought you were Fred from the back!" 

George stood up from his seat, turning to you with a piercing glare, "You should really make sure you know who you are approaching before you touch them!" 

He hadn't completely yelled at you but the angry tone and rise in his voice made you want to nearly cry. 

 You cast your eyes to the side, the amount of complete embarrassment you felt had your face feeling as though it was on fire. "I..I know, and again I'm really sorry about that. I- I'm uhm...I'm (Y/N), by the way...Fred's girlfriend." You look back to him, introducing yourself properly for the first time. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you George." 

"I can't say the same for you, snake." 

You recoil at the name, "What did you just-" 

"You heard me, a snake. That's what you are, clearly. Whatever love spell you have my twin under, you need to end it, and end it now." 

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "What are you talking about? There is no spell. I wouldn't do that to Fred, or anyone for that matter! How can you stand there and accuse me of something like that when you don't even know me?" 

“Don’t think I know you, do you? You're a stuck up, entitled, conniving witch whose family only cares about things as ridiculous as blood purity and money. Everyone knows what kind of people you are. You and Fred have been dating for months and you haven't approached any of his siblings to get to know them. And what’s more is that over the summer you didn't even want to come to the Burrow to spend time with his family; it was always him leaving to meet you. What does that say about what kind of person you are?"

"You don't know a thing. That was not because of me! That was always Fred's choice, I wanted to-" 

"No, don't try to seem all innocent now. You don’t want anything to do with us and we certainly don't like you. Now, if you'd excuse me, I best be leaving."

Before you could get another word out, George turned and collected the books he had grabbed, walking away to the front of the library and out its doors. 

*

*

After your encounter with George in the library this afternoon, your day had only gotten worse.  

You had attempted to break up a fight between two of your younger Slytherin female students but you had ended up getting elbowed in the face, leaving you with a small black eye. Yet before you had the chance to visit the Hospital wing, you were summoned to Umbridge's office.

What had been intended as a “friendly chat” -the pink toads words, not yours-, upon seeing your forming black eye when you stepped into her office, you were dished up a detention for “unacceptable display of muggle dueling from a prefect”. You tried to explain the situation and what had happened but it only seemed to aggravate the woman more. She implemented your detention immediately- the punishment being having to write lines. Instead of writing lines for the said cause of your detention, you were made to write lines for "associating with a blood traitor below your class grade". The way she talked about Fred made your blood boil with rage but you didn’t want to make your situation any worse than it was so you kept the angry words and insults for the woman to yourself.  

And finally to top off  your terrible day, you had received a letter from your parents stating that they would be spending the Christmas holiday in a tropical paradise while you were to stay at Hogwarts, alone.  The day was turning out to be too much to handle and all you wanted was Fred. But with him nowhere to be found, you took to locking yourself in an abandoned classroom in the dungeons, crying out your frustrations. With your eye swelling, your hand stinging like crazy, and your chest aching knowing that Fred's family already hated you without meeting you, you felt completely miserable.

After what had seemed like hours, you finally managed to get your hysterical sobs under control to only getting small hiccups ever so often. Your eyes stung from the hours of repetitive rubbing away of tears and you could only imagine what you looked like. Breaking from your ball-like position in the corner of the room, you rise from the chilled ground, stretching your aching limbs as you take a glance at the small watch on your wrist. You see that dinner had started almost half an hour ago. With a sigh, you emerge from the dungeon’s classroom making your way up to the Great Hall. 

When you enter through the hall's double doors, you immediately scan the Gryffindor’s table for the man you have come to love. You spot him quickly as he's waving his arms around wildly with a wide grin on his lips, seeming to be telling a crazy story to the surrounding group of his friends made up of George, Ron, Harry Potter, your study partner Hermione, and Lee Jordan. You can't help the way your eyes fill with nothing but pure love seeing him in his element; entertaining people and making them laugh and smile. Your eyes cut to his twin sitting beside him and your face falls. 

In that moment, his harsh words from earlier this afternoon ran through your head on repeat like a broken record you couldn't stop. You never wished for anything more than to meet Fred's family and have them approve of you and your relationship but with the way things were going, that would never be anything but a wish. 

You b-line for the Slytherin house table, taking a seat next to your best friend. As you start to shovel food onto your empty plate, his eyes fill with concern. 

"Blimey, (Y/L/N)! What in Salazar’s name happened to you."

You pause and give him a quick pierced glance before resuming to fill up the plate of food. "Do not start with me Zabini. I've had a rough day." 

"I can tell by that black eye of yours. Did Weasley do something he shouldn't have to make you cry? Because you know I will-" 

You crack a sad grin at his over protectiveness but let out a sigh, "N-no, he didn't do anything...he's great. It's just...I don't know.." you trailed off. You didn't want to out George and have him face Blaise's wrath, but how could you keep the day's events away from your best friend?

Blaise noticed your hesitation and rested a comforting hand on your shoulder, "hey, if you don't want to talk about it right now, you don't have to but I'll be here for when you're ready and have the right words." 

You give him the best side hug you can manage as your eyes begin to prickle with a few tears. "I know and thank you Blaise. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

He returns the hug with a smile, "probably be miserable, I suppose. But I meant what I said. Just because I support you and Weasley's little love fest doesn't mean I won't hex him into next year if he hurts you." 

You shove his shoulder playfully before returning back to plate to enjoy your meal. 

As always, dinner was delicious and you stuffed your stomach full with too much dessert. You rise from the bench along with your fellow Slytherin's and begin to trickle out of the great hall. As you are walking between Theo and Blaise, a hand reaches out and grabs your arm from behind, spinning you around. You're met with a pair of familiar soft and warm lips being placed on your own. Before you can respond to the kiss, your boyfriend pulls away with a smirk leaving you with a small pout.  

“Don’t go pouting, love. You will get more kisses soon, are you ready to go? Hell- what happened to your eye?!” he cups his hands around your face, inspecting your eye closely.

 “It's nothing, don't worry. Where are we going?”

“You don’t remember? You were going to stay the night after you handed out gifts to Ginny, Ron, and George. Which by the way, I've got to tell you, I’m a little peeved off I’m not getting my gift yet and I’m your loving, devoted boyfriend who adores you and who worries about you.”

You rub your neck nervously, looking away from him. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day and I forgot..”

His eyes scan your face, his frown only growing deeper “I thought you were excited, love. I didn’t think you would forget something like this. What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t help it. Hearing Fred ask ‘what’s wrong’ after the day you’ve had, unleashed a new wave of fresh tears. 

“Woah, woah, love what happened? Why are you crying, did I say something wrong?” he quickly encases you in his warm embrace, pressing your head gently to his chest to muffle your sobs. Your body shakes horribly as you try to keep yourself from crumbling right then and there in the hall in the presence of other students. 

He looks ahead to see Theo and Blaise have stopped in their places, noticing your absence and are now looking at him holding your distraught figure. He sends a pleading look to Blaise, desperate for him to give a clue as to what was wrong but Blaise only shook his head and frowned in response.  He knew Zabini was your best friend and that you told each other everything so when even he didn’t know what was wrong, Fred began to worry even more. 

As Fred held you to his chest, he gently brushed back your hair with his fingers a couple of times hoping it would calm you. Bending down slightly so as to not scare you, he whispers into your ear, “C’mon, love. Let’s go up to my room and we can cuddle until you’re ready to talk. How does that sound?”

You nod your head slowly, breathing deeply as you can as you step away from him. His heart shattered seeing your eyes so puffy and bloodshot. Gently wrapping an arm around your waist, he guides you up the moving staircases to the portrait sealing the Gryffindor common room. Fred mutters the password and once there is enough space for you both to walk through, he softly pulls you along, hoping that the room will be empty or at least empty enough so you will be comfortable walking through. To his relief, the only people who have opted to stay out in the common room were George, Lee, Ginny, and the Golden Trio. George is the first to notice his twin's sudden presence.

“There you are Freddie, been wondering where you went off to. Hopefully not to see that-”

“Shut up, George. Do you and Lee mind staying down here for a while? We would like to be alone for a bit.”

Ron pipes up from his spot on the carpet by the roaring fireplace. “We?!” 

Just then, George and Ginny’s head snap to Fred, only now noticing you curled into his side, face pressed into his shoulder. 

“WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE?! She-”

“Not now George! You’re my twin and best friend and I love you but please don’t start right now, mate. Just give us some time, please.” Fred begged. 

George backed away with a scowl before nodding. Fred glances at Lee who gives him an encouraging nod with a soft smile. With a sigh of gratitude, he thanks his roommates, guiding you to the stairs. With a flick of his wand, he says the counter charm to keep the stairs from changing and walks you up.

Once you're in the safe space of his room, he sits you on his bed as he couches down by the end of it rummaging through his trunk. Once he finds what he's looking for, he stands facing you handing you a small stack of clothes. 

"Here, sweetheart. These will be more comfortable for you than your uniform. And look, I even picked out your favorite sweater of mine." 

You let out a weak smile, leaning up to plant a loving kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss, cradling your face carefully between his hands. Fred is the one to break the kiss, placing his forehead softly against yours. 

"Let's get changed, love." 

With a final nod, you pull away and stand, moving to the opposite of the room to change giving Fred his own space. Once you're both changed, you walk back to his bed with your uniform gently folded in your hands. Fred takes the stack from you before gesturing you to get in bed. You happily oblige and wait for him to get I'm with you. Once he settles in, you get comfortable in your favorite cuddling position. You being the little spoon with Fred cradling your body to his front.

No words are spoken for the first half hour. Fred doesn't rush you to talk, only softly brushing his hands up and down your arms in slow comforting strokes. Once you feel comfortable and ready to talk, you turn over to face the loving man behind you. You wrap an arm around his waist pulling your body flush against his, burrowing your head into his chest. 

Fred let out a gentle chuckle, squeezing our waist a little tighter. “Are you ready to talk now, love?”

“I ha...frrible ay…” 

Fred let out a deafening howl of laughter. “I have no clue what you just said, do you mind repeating that more clearly for me, sweetheart?”

You pulled away from his chest, “I said that I had a terrible day.”

His joyful expression was quickly replaced by one of alarm. “Why what happened?”

‘Here goes nothing…’ You thought. 

With a deep breath you begin. “It wasn’t so bad at first. Double potions went okay, lunch with Blaise and Theo was good. Transfig sorta fell short because McGonagall split us up but that was okay too, nothing to ruin the day. It all started in my free period.” you stopped, beginning to feel nervous and nauseous . “W..we always say that honesty is the best policy...right?”

He confirms your question with a small dip of his head. “Of course”

You continue on, “I went to the library today to find a new Muggle romance book to read and well...before I could pick one that I liked, I thought I saw you weaving in and out between the bookshelves. I got excited seeing who I thought was you and so I ran up behind him and put my hands over his eyes like how I do with you and well…”

Fred knew where this was going and he instantly began to feel awful. 

“It was George, as you could have guessed and needless to say he did not appreciate that. Of course I apologized, but he was still so angry and not just about me touching him. He seemed to be mad at me, as a whole person. He accused me of having you under a love spell and said that he knew what kind of person I was because of my family. Told me I was entitled and stuck up because I haven’t approached him or Ron or Ginny to get to know them nor did I visit the Burrow to spend time with your family this summer. I tried to tell him that me not coming to your home or meeting your family wasn’t my choice but he didn’t want to hear it.” you sobbed, letting the building tears in your eyes fall freely. 

If Fred didn’t feel terrible before, he sure as hell did now! He knew that it was long overdue for you to meet his family but just when he got the nerve to introduce you, he couldn’t. While Fred was a very confident man in many aspects, your lifestyles were complete polar opposites and it oftentimes left him feeling inadequate. While you live a life of luxury, Fred and his family oftentimes struggle to make ends meet. While Fred’s family is thought of as a full lot of blood-traitors, your family name is highly admired and respected amongst the Wizarding community. Now, the Weasley boy knew such trivial things didn’t matter to his girl, but the worry he had of you leaving him once you dived in deeper to what made Fred, Fred was just too much to take the risk. 

Fred couldn’t even begin to be mad at George for what he said to you because he was too busy being angry at himself. He was the reason this happened. He was the one who kept you from meeting his family. He was the one who would reject your wishes to spend time at the place he’s called home all of his life and with the people he loved more than anything. He made you look like you didn’t want anything to do with his family when in reality, you wanted nothing more than for his family to adore you almost as much as Fred did.

“Baby I am so so sorry about all of this. George had no right to say that to you but he wouldn’t have if I had just gotten over my own insecurities. I promise I will make things right, love.” his solemn expression broke your heart and made you cry even harder. 

Wiping your eyes hurriedly, you shake your head. “That’s not even the worst of it! I got this stupid black eye from trying to break up a petty fight between two younger girls from my house, and then when I wanted to go see Madam Pomfrey, I was summoned to Umbridge’s office. One look at my eye and she gave me a detention of writing lines with that horrid quill of hers and my hand hurts so bad! And then on top of everything, my mum sent me a letter this morning saying that she and dad will be going somewhere for Christmas while I stay at Hogwarts instead! It was just one thing after another and when I couldn’t even find you, I broke down. Ended up locking myself in a classroom to cry, it was awful. That’s why I was late to dinner.”

“That bloody woman used that damned quill of hers on you?! I swear, I will make that vile woman regret ever using that on you! Let me go see if Hermione has anything to help with the scarring.” 

Before he could get out of bed, you wrapped your arms around him tighter, “No! Don't bother her about it, I just want to be with you right now. Don’t leave, just stay.” 

It was hard for Fred to contain the anger he had raging through his body but he gave in to your request.  He settled back into his position, pulling you in tighter by your waist. “I am so sorry all this happened to you today, sweetheart. I promise, the first thing tomorrow, I will make things right. I will owl mum and tell her you will be coming home with me for Christmas and then I will face my siblings and explain everything to them. Then once I’m done there, I will make that pink toad wish she never set foot into this school.”

By now the tears had stopped falling, leaving you to the occasional sniffle. “Can we just go to bed now? I’m tired.”

Fred snuggles down deeper into bed pulling his heavy crimson duvet up around you both, tucking you in. “Let’s sleep. Tomorrow will be better”

You wish Fred had been right. No sooner than you were both peacefully asleep, you had been rapidly alerted awake by Professor McGonagall busting into the dorm room. You and Fred had both sprung up to see her shaking George awake. When she made her way over to Fred’s bedside, she paused in shock seeing you there.

“Miss (Y/L/N), what in Godric’s name are you doing in Gryffindor tower? And in the boys dormitories no less!” 

“I-I.. well.. You see, what had happened was-” 

“Never mind that, we don’t have time. I need you and mister Weasley to come with me immediately.”

Once you were all out of bed and met with a disheveled Ginny, the four of you were guided back to the Headmaster’s office and upon entering, you all see Harry looking distraught. 

Ginny was the first to speak out, “What’s going on Harry? Professor McGonagall said you saw dad hurt-”

Dumbledore answered the girl before Harry had the chance. “Your father has been injured doing some work for the Order of the Phoenix. I am sending you all to Sirius’s house by portkey instead of the Burrow, where you will meet your mother. But we must hurry before Umbridge is made aware you all are out of bed. Hurry now, all of you.” 

Immediately you all gathered around the kettle you would be using to transport you and waited for the countdown from Dumbledore. On the count of three, you all placed your hands on the portkey and instantly you felt the pull behind your navel and a rush of wind before you were met with the ground of a...kitchen? 

Before you could comprehend anything, into the kitchen came Sirius Black. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of seeing the man in the flesh but looking at him as he spoke to Harry and the Weasley children, there was no way he was this “mass murderer” you had read to believe. After a small riff between the twins and Sirius about staying put instead of rushing to St. Mungo’s, he offered everyone up a butterbeer (which you graciously accepted) to calm the nerves. When you all had received the small letter from Mrs. Weasley, Sirius suggested that everyone try to obtain some rest so one by one, each of you filtered off to catch some sleep once you were finished with your respective butterbeers. You and Fred go off together to find a couch big enough for the both of you, quickly settling into deep sleep.

*

*

*

In the days that followed upon your arrival, you had finally met Mrs. Weasley and although you were seeing her at a tough time, she was thrilled to meet you and have you around for Christmas. Things were a bit tense with Fred’s siblings given the state of things, but you didn’t want to make what they were going through worse so you gave them their space. With your free time you had got to know Sirius and seemed to get along well given the many similarities between the two of you. You had also learned about the Order of the Phoenix and found that his home was made the Order’s headquarters. And then on the day the Weasley family was heading to St. Mungo’s to visit Mr. Weasley, you met a few more of the Order members, including Mad-Eye and Tonks. After a few discussions with them about the Order and their careers as dark wizard catchers you just knew you wanted to follow their paths and become an Auror and join the Order after you finished your schooling. 

It was finally the day Mr. Weasley would be getting released from St. Mungo’s and the whole lot of you Hogwarts students were busy tidying up around preparing for his arrival while Mrs. Weasley, Mad-Eye, and Tonks went out. 

You were currently cleaning down the tabletops in the kitchen with Hermione when you heard George in the next room over beginning to speak out of the blue. “I just don’t get it. My father has a near death experience and he has to come home to around another slimy snake...unbelievable.” he scoffs. 

You halt in your movement as you look up to the door separating the two rooms. The whole time you had been here, you hadn’t possibly done anything to set the boy off.

You hear your boyfriend speak up, anger laced within his tone. “George mate, stop. What the hell! She hasn’t done anything to make you be so cross with her. What the hell gives?”

You drop the towel in your hand onto the dark table, rushing over to the swinging door that separated the rooms. You push it open to see the two redheads glowering at one another in rage as Ginny,  Ron, and Harry stop in the midst of their own cleaning to watch the building argument.

“What gives?” he shouts. “What gives is that she shouldn't be here! She doesn’t belong here with the Order nor is she family! It’s not like she likes us anyways! Besides, she’s a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake! Who knows what she’ll go and tell Umbridge when we get back to school. Better yet, who knows what she will go say to those death eater parents of hers to get all of our asses all killed. ”

“That’s enough! Your bang out of line! You don’t know a thing about her but yet you decide to hate her?! That’s my girlfriend, George!”

 “None of us know her because she doesn’t want us to know her! We’re your family Fred and she’s kept herself from that. She-”

“ENOUGH!” Fred bursts in anger, making you flinch. You had never heard Fred so...so livid before. “That.  Is. Enough.” his tone rough and grave. He looked around the room, looking into the eyes of each of his siblings as he spoke, “You three loathe her because you believe she thinks of us as beneath her. She’s not like that! You all don’t know her because I didn’t want you to know her. I wanted to keep my family and my relationship separate and I see now that that was a horrible mistake and I’m sorry! She truly has always wanted to meet and spend time with you guys  but I have been the one to say no every time, even when she begged and pleaded!”

“Ginny.” His little sister's body straightened upon the hearing of her name, “you would actually really like her. The way you feel and talk about Quidditch, she’s the exact same way. You’re as much of a headstrong firecracker as she is too. You would get along so well..” 

“Ron…” he paused looking at his youngest brother, “I have never seen someone more strategic with Wizard’s Chess and obsessed with the Chudley Cannons than (Y/N). You both could talk for hours about that team and never get tired, you would think she’s great, too.”

Fred looks back to his twin, his eyes softening. “And Georgie...you’re my twin. You have no idea how hard she fought to meet you. After mum and dad, she’s wanted to get to know you the most because she knows just how much you mean to me. You aren’t just my twin, you’re my best mate. Not only does she support me, and you too, she supports our dream of opening the joke shop; something we’ve wanted since we were kids! You would love her maybe just as much as I do.  She’s actually brilliant, I’m telling you. She’s smart, funny, inventive, ambitious, and just as much of a kid-at-heart as we are..” he grinned a bit with a few tears pricking his eyes.

The tension encased in the quaint room was undeniably thick. With teary eyes, you take a glance at his siblings and see their faces are all beginning to mirror the same emotions. Embarrassment, guilt, and shame. You couldn’t lie, seeing them at least a bit remorseful for the way they treated you and made you feel, made you feel a tad bit better.

As he takes a few paces across the room to stand next to you, he looks around at his siblings one last time, “If you want someone to be mad at, be mad at me. Not (Y/N). As my family, I’m begging you, give her a real chance. I love her and I can guarantee you all would love her too.” 

You gently wrap your hand around Fred’s bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze with a watery smile. He looks down at you, tenderly kissing your forehead before grabbing your hand in his much larger one and leading you up the staircase to the room you were staying in. You peek back at his siblings as you ascend the steps, offering them a meek smile of their own. When Ginny had returned with the slightest smile in response, it gave you a new hope that things would be different from here on out. 

*

*

*

Christmas was finally being celebrated at 12 Grimmauld Place and everyone was in high, happy spirits. In the past few days, Ron and Ginny took the initiative to get to know you, and you with them; and as Fred predicted, they enjoyed you and the company you offered. You connected very well with the both of them, and you couldn’t be happier.  Mr. Weasley was ecstatic to finally meet you at last and welcomed you wholeheartedly. He ended up talking your ear off quite a bit about all things he knew about Muggles but you genuinely enjoyed his conversations and enthusiasm! 

Currently, you were helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, placing the last few finishing touches on the small feast the lot of you would be indulging in when Fred and George strolled into the room. Fred waltzed over to you wrapping a strong arm around your waist, spinning you around into his chest. You giggled happily as he placed a quick tender kiss on your lips before pulling away when his mom swatted his shoulder from behind him. Mrs. Weasley announced that the food was ready and for everyone to take their seats so you could get started. Before you all tucked in, she walked around the table handing out brightly colored paper wrapped packages to each of the children. You were beyond surprised when she gestured for you to grab the one she had been holding out in front of you. 

“I got something, too? Mrs. Weasley, you shouldn’t have! Thank you so much!” You spoke as you tore open the wrappings. You see a beautifully homemade scarf and matching gloves in your house colors of silver and green. Your eyes crinkle in excitement as you wrap the fluffy scarf around your neck. You peer up at her again, “I love it, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, dear. I hear those dungeons are quite chilling, those ‘ought to keep you extra warm, I guarantee it.” 

You thank her again and before you can begin to show Hermione your wonderful gift, another package is thrusted your way. You see only this time, it’s George holding it out to you. 

“What is this?” you gently grab it from his hands, your eyebrow arching in wonder. 

“This is technically something from the entire family but I had been the one to ask mum to make it. I owe you, and Fred too, a huge apology. I was a right foul git to you and should have never said those awful things to or about you, and for that I’m very sorry. I know it doesn’t completely change the fact that it happened but I hope you both can forgive me. I have never seen anyone a better match for my twin and I’m happy he has you in his life. Go ahead and open it.“

Your beam at him as you unwrap your second gift, your eyes immediately filling with happy tears when you look down to see what it is. You take the dark green plush sweater out of the paper and hold it up, your eyes roaming over your first initial  that had been stitched in white,  in elation. “My very own Weasley sweater?!” 

George cracked a sincere smile as you hurriedly pulled the sweater over your head to try it on. “Welcome to the family, (Y/N).” 

*

*

*

*

Taglist: @weasleytwinswheezes

#averyharrypotterchristmas #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley #harry potter #weasley family #order of the phoenix #fred weasley x reader

[teshamerkel]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

Chapter 14 (19 Pages)

<< First | < Previous | Next >

Hazel gives Nia a new lead to follow in her search for answers, as well as the courage to confront Tobias.

-

“You’re Hazel.”

The older Pokemon smiles, looking wistful. “I haven’t gone by the name Hazel in over a decade. Most know me as Alice nowadays.”

Well, that would explain why no one knew who Hazel was. Nia opens her mouth to say something, ask something, a thousand questions she’d rehearsed bubbling at her lips. Instead, her throat chokes up as tears flood her eyes.

She finally found her. She found Hazel. And now she’s crying again. Nia scrubs at her face, apologizing, only for soft arms to scoop her into a hug, cutting off her words.

“I know it’s scary,” Hazel murmurs, paw stroking soothingly at Nia’s back. “Everything is so new and different, and you hardly know a soul.”

Nia whimpers, squeezing Hazel back and burying her face in the older woman’s soft fur. They stay like that until the kettle starts to shriek. Hazel gently escapes Nia’s hold, moving to smother the fire and pour out two small cups of tea.

Some kind of power (psychic, maybe?) outlines the cups in gold, and then they levitate into the air, catching Nia off-guard. Hazel floats over to the table, drinks following smoothly enough not to spill, and sets one of the cups in front of Nia. The riolu sniffs and wipes away the last of her tears, accepting the tea with a quiet word of thanks and cupping it in her hands. There’s something soothing about its near-painful warmth and faint herbal scent; even watching the drink’s steam rise and curl into the air feels calming.

After a few moments of silence, Hazel speaks up in a hushed voice. “I found myself in the Pokémon world when I was about...oh, 26 years old or so. It must have been around 1980.”

Nia looks up, taken aback. “1980?”

Hazel nods, taking a sip of tea. “Yes. I’ve had the chance to speak with a few others in our situation throughout the years, and it seems time here runs on a scale similar to Earth’s.”

“Yeah,” Nia agrees, doing the mental math and feeling shock numb her ever so slightly. “You’ve been here for...for 40 years?”

“Give or take, yes.”

Hazel says something else, but Nia doesn’t answer. She’s focused on trying to control the tremor in her breathing, the shaking in her fingers, the violent pounding of her heartbeat. 40 years? Last she’d heard humans had only been appearing in the Pokemon world for about 30 years.

How long has this really been happening?

“Did you—did you ever try to go back?” Nia rasps.

Hazel hesitates. “For a year or so, yes. I did try to find out...why I was here. What happened.”

“And?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t find many answers,” Hazel answers, blue eyes flashing gold as she uses the same psychic ability to stir her tea without using her paws. “There were far less cases of our situation back then, and even less Pokémon who actually believed that we were once human. We were left to do most of the searching for answers on our own, and without many resources it’s difficult to find any solid leads.”

Nia’s grip tightens around her tea. “B-But there has to have been some breakthroughs somewhere after so long, right? How did you do your research? Reading? Traveling around to ask other Pokémon? What about those Pokémon who remember their past? The ones who are always former humans? Yuh—Yamask! Surely there’s something that no one has tried yet!”

Nia doesn’t register how desperate she must sound, how close she is to breaking down again, until Hazel doesn’t answer. She looks worried.

“I mean—there have to be answers, right?” Nia asks, consciously quieting her voice. “Somebody has to know how this happened to us. How to fix it.”

Hazel’s face drops into something sympathetic. “You want to go back. To your old life.”

Nia blinks, bewildered. “You don’t?”

Hazel shakes her head. “This is my life now. I have a husband and a daughter. Beautiful grandkids. A successful career and a home. Every morning I sit on the docks and watch the sun rise with a cup of tea and a pastry from the neighbor’s bakery. At this point, I’m more comfortable as a raichu than I would be as a human.”

Nia can’t believe what she’s hearing. Sure, the Pokémon world is wonderful and the people are kind, but...

“Don’t you...don’t you miss your family? Your friends?”

“Of course I do,” Hazel answers, tone slipping into something sharp for the first time. “But that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes you don’t get a choice in the matter.”

Nia flinches, looking down into her tea again.

The raichu’s voice softens. “I created a new life here, instead. I found love, and friendship. Of course I’m not going to forget my old family and friends, but that didn’t mean I had to stop living my life until I found a way back to the human world. And I’m glad I thought that way. I’m happy here.”

Nia knows the words are supposed to be soothing, but instead she’s fighting off a rising wave of panic. Her stomach rolls and there’s a sinking, heavy feeling in her chest that feels like lead. She doesn’t want to start a new life here. She doesn’t remember her family and her friends, not exactly, but the longing in her heart makes her sure that she needs to get back to them. She has to find a way. There has to be a way.

After a few beats of silence, Hazel asks, “Did you lose your memory, coming here?”

Nia blinks back tears and meets Hazel’s eyes, nodding.

“But you have yet to regain it.”

Nia nods again. “I...I know I was human. I remember certain things, l-like technology and some songs, and that I used to play softball. I don’t remember my family or my friends or what happened to bring me here, b-but...” she reaches up to clutch at the fur of her chest, where it feels like she’s tearing in half.

“You know how you feel about them,” Hazel guesses.

The tears finally spill over, so Nia squeezes her eyes shut. “I need to get back to them.”

Hazel is silent as Nia takes a few deep breaths.

“I wish you luck in finding answers,” Hazel finally says, words slow and careful, like she’s trying to find the perfect way to phrase this. “Just...know that they may not be the answers you would like.”

Nia’s not sure what to make of that, so she just takes another deep breath and sips at her tea. It is tasty, if a bit bitter.

“Where are you staying now? Do you have anyone to help you?” Hazel asks.

Nia finally offers a small smile. “Yeah. I’m living at the Lexym Guild, with a meganium named Maggie and my, uh...my Seekers partner, Tobias.”

Hazel tilts her head, frowning. “He didn’t come with you today? It’s quite a walk from the guild.”

“N-No, he did,” Nia answers, shifting uncomfortably as she once again feels the emptiness of Tobias’ absence. “He’s, um...out somewhere in the port.”

“This was an important mission for you, to find me. He didn’t want to be a part of it?”

Nia isn’t sure how to answer that without admitting aloud that Tobias doesn’t care about Nia’s goals at all. Instead, she simply shrugs.

Hazel hums. Then, she slides a paw across the table to gently lay over Nia’s own. “Nia, I’m going to tell you something very important, okay? Look at me.”

Nia does, swallowing hard.

“The Pokémon world is...kinder than the human world, in many ways. But you still have to be careful that Pokémon don’t take advantage of you. Of your lack of knowledge regarding this world. Your fear. Your kindness.”

“What—“

“I could be wrong,” Hazel says, cutting Nia off softly but firmly. “But this Tobias sounds like he isn’t there for you the way partners—and friends—should be.”

Nia feels her ears pin back, betraying the truth of Hazel’s words. “H-He’s had a rough life—“

“Which is unfortunate,” Hazel says, squeezing Nia’s paw. “But that doesn’t excuse his actions. Everyone needs to learn to adapt and grow. With you, he has the chance to become a better Pokémon. And if he decides not to take that opportunity, then it isn’t your job to deal with him. Your feelings are important too.”

Nia’s vision blurs with tears, and she looks down at her cup of tea as it slowly loses its warmth. “You sound like Maggie.”

“If this Maggie agrees, then I’d say you should really consider your current arrangement. It’s easy to take advantage of someone like you. You’re sweet, and you’re lost. Don’t take that.”

Nia sniffs, squeezing the raichu’s soft paw. She already knew this, but hearing it from Hazel, from someone who has been in her exact position...maybe it is finally time to make a change with Tobias.

“It’s your decision, of course,” Hazel says, voice lighter again. She leans back. “Just...think about it. Why don’t you tell me about how your life has been since coming here? How long have you been in this world?”

Nia smiles, relaxing and slowly unraveling the story of the last two weeks of her life. Waking up in the Pokemon world, settling at the guild, choosing a name and meeting everyone, saving Tobias and forming a team with him, training and starting out as Seekers, meeting Hadley and hearing about his old “human” friend...

At the mention of Hadley, Hazel laughs, looking like she wants to be mad but can’t quite manage it. “I haven’t seen that silly old bug in years! Of course he’s the one to rat me out. Always had loose lips, that one. Which is remarkable for someone without actual lips.”

Nia giggles. “Sorry. I’m glad he told me, though, or else I never would have found you.”

“Did he tell you how we met?”

Nia shakes her head, leaning forward in her seat.

“Well, I’d fallen terribly ill while on the road in my early years. When I went to a doctor, they were shocked to find that I had a developed a form of the common cold.”

“One of the medics at the guild mentioned something about that,” Nia says. “They said if I got sick, it could be, uh. Serious.”

Hazel hums a thoughtful sound. “I don’t remember much about that week or so I was sick, but doctors did seem rather...cautious. About telling me whether I’d pull through or not. Looks like I brushed by death’s door a bit closer than I thought.”

Nia’s fur prickles at the casual way she mentions it. “Y-You aren’t scared that you’ll get sick like that again?”

“No, not really. I did have a few more bouts of illness throughout my life, but nothing that I couldn’t pull through. Nowadays, I’m fairly sure I’ve been through most common ailments, having had children and all. They’re germ magnets!”

Nia cracks a small smile.

“Still, that does remind me,” Hazel says, focusing back on the riolu. “The first time you start feeling ill, do go ahead and check in with one of the medical Pokémon at the guild, all right? Your symptoms might come on weak, but don’t take any chances.”

The riolu swallows hard and nods. Hazel said when she got sick, not if. The raichu seems sure that it’ll happen eventually, and Nia would be lying if she said that didn’t send a bolt of fear into her heart. She doesn’t want to die, and especially not here, sick and without her family.

“I met Hadley when I was recovering in hospice,” Hazel continues. “He’s always been a reckless thing, and he’d chipped his shell in a fight with a golem, of all things. He lost, of course, but he didn’t want to tell me that.”

Nia tries to relax again as Hazel dives deeper into her story. Soon enough, they’re both laughing, and moving on to talking about the oddities of the Pokémon world, of how strange it was to wake up with tails and ears and superpowers. Apparently, Hazel had arrived as a pikachu, like her daughter Margot is now, and had decided to evolve later on in life. She explains that the levitation abilities of alolan raichu help a lot with larger wood carvings, when she has to work on areas much higher than she can reach on foot.

“So evolution didn’t...hurt, or anything?” Nia asks at one point. “It still sounds so weird to me.”

Hazel nods understandingly. “It is odd, no doubt. But no, it didn’t hurt. It was...a bit strange, feeling my body shift and change in the span of a few seconds. But I certainly don’t regret it. It’s quite sad, really, that evolution doesn’t seem to be working anymore. An upsetting development, to be sure.”

“H-How long has that been going on, anyways?” Nia asks. She’d been meaning to bring this question up with Maggie for days now.

Hazel stirs at her cold tea. “Oh goodness...maybe the last ten years or so? It’s fairly recent.”

“And no one knows what’s causing it?”

Hazel sighs. “Well, we’re certainly getting the share of the blame. Has anyone warned you about that yet?”

Nia nods. “Y-Yeah. Everyone at the Haven is really nice, but August and Maggie said I should be more cautious about revealing that I’m human when we travel farther away. Why are we getting blamed?”

Hazel shakes her head, looking bitter. “When a problem rises up that no one knows how to fix, it makes it easier on folks if they can blame someone else for it. The animosity has only gotten worse as time goes on and more things change. Being unable to evolve has changed the lives of a lot of Pokémon, and not for the better. I shudder to think about all of the poor cocoon Pokémon who got caught in their middle stage and are trapped there.”

Nia frowns. That’s such a strange thing to happen so suddenly, presumably after never happening before in the history of this world. “What did everyone say, right after it happened?”

“Oh, they were sure the world was ending. That Arceus herself was forsaking them. But then nothing else drastic happened immediately after, the days carried on, and eventually Pokémon grudgingly adapted.”

“Are any Pokémon still looking into it?” Nia asks, feeling her curiosity rise and her itch to research resurface.

“Oh yes, the last I heard it was still a hot topic, particularly in the bigger cities. Around here, Pokémon are content to make due.”

Nia thinks about the evolution that she would have available if she could evolve. A...lucario, she thinks it was? Similar to her current form, but bigger. Taller. She remembers reading that Tobias would eventually become a much larger creature, though, a dragon with wings and everything. It’s difficult to imagine the little charmander going through such a huge growth spurt.

After a moment of thoughtful quiet between them, Hazel lightens the mood by launching into another story from when she’d first arrived in the Pokémon world. Apparently when she’d first woken up, she’d screamed and accidentally electrocuted a kind but terrifying-looking Pokémon who was just trying to help her out. Nia listens and strokes the rim of her cup, smiling warmly at the old raichu. She has such an obvious grandmotherly air about her—even more so than Maggie.

At the end of her story, Hazel suddenly sits up. “You know, that reminds me of something I saw last week. There’s a Pokémon who’s trying to gather former humans for a meeting sometime soon. Some sort of club, I suppose?”

Nia’s ears perk up. “Really?”

Hazel nods. “I’m comfortable as a Pokémon now, so I dismissed it. It seemed like a load of hullabaloo to me! But maybe you would want to look into it? They would likely know more than I would about how the research on this phenomenon is going.”

“Y-Yeah, absolutely! Do you know where I could find out more about it?”

“I believe there was a flyer up in the bazaar near the waterfall, on one of the bulletin boards.”

Nia jots that down in her mind, beaming. “Thank you so much, Hazel! Oh man, I’ll check that out as soon as I leave.”

Hazel chuckles again. “Why don’t you go on ahead? If you don’t have anything else to ask me, that is. You look ready to jump out of your seat.”

Nia laughs, embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m excited.”

Hazel shifts, sitting heavily onto her tail before rising into a float. She collects the two cups from the table and sets them down in the kitchen area. “It’s fine. Come along then.”

Nia moves to follow the raichu out into the shop. She casts a quick glance up at the loft, but it’s quiet. Margot and her boys must already be asleep. When the two of them reach the front door, the raichu turns to her with a smile.

“You take care, all right? Smack some sense into that partner of yours or tell him to hit the road.”

Nia laughs, nodding. “I’ll do my best.”

Hazel leans in, taking Nia’s hands in her own and dropping her voice to a whisper. “And if things don’t turn out how you want, just remember that there’s always a silver lining. You’ll reach happiness, one way or another.”

Nia’s breath catches. Fear and denial roll in her gut (she will find a way home, she will), but she knows the raichu only means well. So she offers a shaky smile. “R-Right.”

“Thank you for the talk. Come back and visit this old girl if you’re ever in the area. It’s nice to have another human around.”

Nia nods. She is right about that. “Absolutely. Thank you so much for talking with me.”

“Of course.” And with that, Hazel pulls her into another hug. Nia hugs her back, squeezing hard and breathing in the scent of her short fur. She’s only known her for a couple of hours, but she already knows she’s going to miss her.

“C-Can I write you sometime?”

“Please do,” Hazel says, pulling back and patting the riolu’s cheek. “I would love that.”

“I’ll send you a letter as soon as I figure out how the mailing system works.”

Hazel laughs, playfully pushing Nia out the front door and into warm night air. “Go on, get out of here! And good luck. Remember what I said.”

Nia nods and gives the raichu one more wave before turning to join the Pokémon still milling about on the boardwalk. She’d passed the bazaar earlier in the day, when she was searching for Hazel. It’s...to the right? She thinks. She supposes she could just follow the sound of the waterfall, too.

As Nia makes her way through the port town, faintly lit by the fat moon overhead and the light spilling out from homes and shops, she keeps an eye out for Tobias’ tail flame. As much as Nia hates conflict, Hazel is right. She needs to have a talk with the charmander about their partnership. She can’t keep sacrificing her emotions and her own goals just because Tobias insists on keeping up such a bitter attitude and shoving her away at every opportunity.

Nia finally finds the giant bulletin boards in the bazaar, sitting in front of shops and between closed market booths. Wait. Dang it, she can’t read anything at this time of night! Great. If only a certain fire type were here. A small growl of frustration slips from her throat. She doesn’t have anything that can make light, right?

Oh! Wait, maybe..? Nia hesitates, glancing around. Would she even be able to do it here, already so worked up and exhausted from the day? She supposes she doesn’t have much of a choice but to try. She closes her eyes, feeling the tear-drop appendages framing her face rise as she searches for that fire at the core of her being. Her aura. After a moment she finds it, burning strong and bright. She stokes it with thoughts of her family, of Maggie, of Xander and Andyn, of Hazel...and she feels it grow. Satisfied, she directs it towards her hand with a little nudge, focuses it in her palm, imagines the light cradled there...

Nia cracks open her eyes, grinning with delight to see the cyan of her aura condensed into a tiny flame. It casts a faint blue glow over her and the flyers, and she hurriedly starts skimming the papers for anything about humans. She scans the board once, twice, feeding more energy into her palm and feeling it start to strain her as the seconds tick by.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she mumbles, picking up the pace as she frantically scans flyer after flyer. She eventually abandons the board and runs to the second one nearby. Hazel said it was only like a week ago, right? It has to still be here. What if it’s buried beneath other papers? What if—

Nia’s gaze snaps back to a particular flyer as she catches sight of the word ‘human.’ There are a few of the flyers nailed to the wood, so Nia snatches one, dimming her aura and skimming through it.

The Will of the Humans Movement

Are you a human who suddenly ended up in the Pokémon world? Looking for answers, a network of others that understand you, a place to talk about your past and the human world? Come join us in one of the largest cities in the land! We’ll be having a conference in the city of Ghatha on the first day of the fall season. Food will be provided, as well as resources for finding your way in the Pokémon world until you can be returned to your human life.

Nia takes a deep, shuddering breath, killing off her aura and laughing to herself. She’s incredibly relieved that this sort of idea even exists, that this group sounds so confident about being able to return her to the human world, but she can’t help laughing at the very human-like advertising method. It almost sounds like a college club flyer, or a support group. These guys are the real deal, all right. And it says the first week of fall? If she recalls correctly, it’s nearing the end of summer right now, so that can’t be very far away at all!

Nia folds up the flyer and carefully tucks it away into her satchel. Then she sets off again, wondering how she’ll find Tobias. It’s a warm night, but he probably would have gone inside by now, right? Nia knows she passed one or two larger buildings that advertised themselves as inns. Or maybe he’s still at one of the restaurants? He did seem really excited to eat here.

Just in case, Nia peeks into the restaurants she passes on her way towards the inns, scanning the small crowds inside and feeling her belly start to rumble at all of the delicious scents. Finally, she pokes her head into a restaurant with savory, smoky scents pouring from the kitchen area. In the dim lighting, a familiar tail light and red scarf catch her eye. Tobias!

The charmander looks relaxed, slouched into a seat, empty plate in front of him as he picks at his teeth. Nia hurries over to him, taking the seat across from him and making him jump.

“Sorry,” Nia says, smiling. “Good meal?”

Tobias sits up. “Yeah, definitely. Worth the trip for this alone.”

A silence falls between them, and Nia feels her happy expression slowly drop. She doesn’t know why she expected it from Tobias, but...he didn’t even ask if she’d succeeded in her search for Hazel. Didn’t even mention how his supposed “search” went.

“So I was thinking of just using the inn two doors down for the night, and then heading back a bit after dawn tomorrow.”

Nia nods. “Uh, sure. But, um. Can we talk first?”

Tobias stops cleaning his teeth, giving Nia a suspicious look. “What about?”

“It’s...kind of important. To me. Please?”

Tobias heaves an annoyed sigh, but this time Nia doesn’t wince away. In fact, she feels her anger and frustration only grow stronger.

“Fine,” he says. “Shoot.”

Nia glances at the owners of the restaurant, adorable blue and white otter Pokémon with seashells on their chests, chatting amicably at the entrance to the kitchen. A purple bulldog Pokemon with huge fangs sips quietly at a bowl of soup nearby. The atmosphere is peaceful. She doesn’t want to shatter that with a potential argument.

“Not here,” Nia says, meeting Tobias’ annoyed gaze. “How about down on the docks?”

“Seriously? Why?”

Nia bites back an exasperated sigh. “Just trust me on this. Please?”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Tobias grunts a quiet, “Fine. Let’s go, I already paid.”

Nia nods, and the two head out. Tobias falls back to let her take the lead, and she guides them to one of the staircases, down to an open dock over the water. As they walk, Nia feels herself grow more and more nervous. Her stomach feels tight and nauseous. Maybe this can wait? Maybe she should keep the peace this far from home. She could always just talk to him about this tomorrow.

Hazel’s serious expression flashes through her mind. No. The raichu was right. She needs to put this out there right now, before she loses her nerve. The two of them reach the end of the dock, and Tobias crosses his arms, shuffling away from the edge.

Nia swallows, mouth opening and closing as she tries to figure out how to begin. “W-Well, I wanted to talk about, uh, our team.”

That at least seems to pique the charmander’s interest.

“I-It’s just...I was wondering if you could m-maybe try being, uh...a little nicer?” That’s it, Nia. Nice and stern. God, she’s such a pushover.

Tobias blinks, snorting. “What? Is that seriously why you dragged me out here?”

Nia cringes. “I mean, yeah! I...I-It’s just that you don’t ever want to talk, and you don’t seem to really care about w-what I want, and we’re partners and all, so—“

“We’ve been through this before,” Tobias interrupts. “I’m not nice. And we’re partners, not friends.”

“I know that!” Nia says, voice sharp. Tobias straightens up, anger flashing across his features. “I know that, but there’s a difference between being partners and being whatever we are! We should care about each other, have each other’s’ backs! Actually talk to each other! But every time I try to start a civil conversation you just say something cruel or don’t even answer me!”

“Look, you aren’t special,” Tobias growls, stepping closer with a snarl curling at his lip. “I treat you like I treat everybody else—better even, and—“

“And that’s what I mean!” Nia says, voice edging on a shout. “You treat everyone like dirt! Even Maggie half the time, and she’s been nothing but kind to you your whole life!”

Tobias actually winces at that, but the shame on his face only seems to fuel his anger. Even his tail flame flickers brighter. “Look, I signed up to be Seeker partners with you, nothing more. It doesn’t say anything in the contract about me being nice. You knew how I was before you asked me to form a team with you.”

Nia feels angry tears prick at her eyes, and she throws her arms out in a bewildered sort of gesture. “Okay, fine, I did! Maybe I thought that somehow I could change you, be your friend and help you open up. I know you can be kind, Tobias, I’ve seen it with Maggie and the kids—you can be nice, you just choose not to!”

Tobias huffs, smoke pluming from between his teeth. “That sounds like a mistake on your part.”

“Maybe it was,” Nia admits. “But I don’t think it’s wrong to expect that my partner would have the basic decency to care about me and my goals a little instead of only focusing on himself.”

Tobias opens his mouth to respond, but Nia beats him to it.

“I know you didn’t go looking for Hazel like you said you would. You didn’t even ask about my search or if I found her when I finally tracked you down! You didn’t do a single thing to support me even though you knew how important this was to me!”

“I’ve been nothing but kind to you,” Nia goes on, ignoring the way her voice breaks as she steps forward, feeling a thrill of satisfaction when Tobias steps back. “I’ve kept your secrets, lied to protect you, tried to befriend you so you’d have someone to talk to...I’ve tried so hard to be a good person and bring out the best in you.”

“I didn’t ask for that,” Tobias protests weakly.

“You shouldn’t have to! We’re partners! We should be on each other’s team, not two separate ones. And I shouldn’t have to ask you for the simple courtesy of respecting me and not being a—a total jerk!”

“I protect you in dungeons!” Tobias snaps back. “I share the money we get! What more do you want?! Where is all of this even coming from?”

Nia makes a frustrated noise. “Tobias, we’ve only been partners for two weeks and already I’ve reached the end of my patience! This isn’t a sudden thing! How did you not see this coming?”

“How am I supposed to know if something’s wrong if you don’t tell me?”

“Maybe by paying a little attention! All I’m asking is that you try to care a little bit!”

“And if I refuse?”

Nia tries to take a cue from Margot, straightening up and changing her expression into something harsh and unmovable. “Then I’m leaving the team.”

Finally, Tobias’ mask of anger melts away, leaving only horrified shock behind. “W-What? You can’t—you need to gather information, and—”

Nia crosses her arms. “We both know you’re the only one who would be struggling to find a new team, Tobias. I’d be fine.”

The charmander’s expression closes off, cold and distant. “...And to get you to stay?”

Nia doesn’t answer for a few moments, thinking and enjoying the way her piercing gaze seems to make Tobias squirm with unease. “I would need you to try to be kind. To be an actual partner. Care about me and what I want, the way that I’ve been doing for you. Actually talk to me. Trust me.”

“Trust you? You’re blackmailing me.”

Nia fights back a new surge of anger, sighing. “Tobias, this isn’t blackmail. This is a second chance.”

The charmander doesn’t answer that, and the two of them stand locked in a tense silence.

“So that’s all? I just need to be nice to you?”

“I need you to try to be kind,” Nia corrects. “There’s a big difference. Sucking up to me or faking a personality isn’t going to cut it. You don’t need to be sweet and bring me breakfast in bed. I’m just asking that you stop treating me like the enemy. Like someone whose wants are lesser than yours.”

Tobias is silent, flexing his claws as he stares out at the water with fury in his gaze. Eventually, he says, “Did Hazel put you up to this?”

Nia barks a short, humorless laugh. “You’d know if she had if you’d actually gone with me, wouldn’t you? I’ve been feeling like this for a while, Tobias. Maybe if you paid attention to someone but yourself you would have noticed.”

Tobias growls at that, a few embers fluttering from his breath, bright in the darkness.

“You don’t need to decide now,” Nia says, feeling her anger start to drain in favor of exhaustion. “I want you to be serious about your answer, either way. This is a dealbreaker for me.”

Tobias glares at her for a moment more. Then he snarls something under his breath and storms past her, back towards the staircase to the shops and inn. Nia watches him go, and doesn’t relax until the charmander’s bobbing tail flame disappears completely in the darkness. Then she sinks to the ground, cradling her head in her hands. That was...more intense than she’d been expecting. But she also got her point across. She thinks.

She sits there for a while longer as the moon climbs high into the sky. Eventually, she rises to her feet, taking shaky steps back towards the buildings of Afon’s Cap. She’s definitely not going to go sleep in the same inn as Tobias after that. She considers returning to Hazel’s to ask to stay the night, but she really doesn’t want to bother the little family when they’re likely all asleep by now.

Instead, Nia picks a different inn than the one Tobias had suggested earlier. What tomorrow brings for her and her team she doesn’t know, but when she flops down into a pre-made nest, she feels...light. Relieved to finally have that off her chest, to finally have a resolution between her and Tobias one way or another.

Nia is done being the charmander’s doormat. 

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #alolan raichu #riolu #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

[pixxiesdust]

Crimson Snow (pt. 1) • Bakugou Katsuki

Summary • We all know the story of Little Red Riding Hood. But all stories, especially ones passed through spoken word, can change with time. This is the true story of a girl who wandered into the forest, wearing a cloak white as snow, and left on the back of a beast with a crimson cape trailing behind her.

Pairing • Shifter!Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Word Count • 4.9k

Tags and Warnings • Fairy tale AU, kidnapping, experimentation, violence, blood, swearing, angst, eventual happy ending (just not in this part oops)

Note • This is a fic for the @bnhabookclub event! It’s also my first time writing for BnHA, so thank you to the lovely @lesbian-peanut-writer​ for reading over it for me! I intended for this to be a one-shot but it started to get very long so it’s going to have one or two more parts.

part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4

–

It is dark inside the hunter’s mansion.

You can’t even guess how a hunter could ever make enough to buy a mansion. Maybe he inherited it from a family member. Or maybe, just maybe, the hunter has a side business that makes him profitable amounts of money, like kidnapping young women. Oh, just an example, of course. It definitely isn’t your reality or anything.

And the room isn’t exactly dark. The hunter left a candle on the ground for you when he locked you in this room, and a full moon shines through a small window near the ceiling. But it just feels dark. The room is pristine and is devoid of furniture. There’s no dust to be seen and the air carries traces of lemon, probably from whatever soap someone used to clean. There's something off about this place that makes you shiver and wrap your white cloak tighter around you. 

Before you can do anything else—not that there would be much to do in an empty room—the lock clicks and the door swings open, revealing the hunter that had brought you here. You immediately take a couple steps away from him, back straightening. 

The hunter doesn’t move. He only stands in the doorway, hands behind his back, studying you. 

You glare back, ignoring the plague doctor mask that covers the bottom half of his face.

“You’re filthy,” he says. You look down at yourself, taking in your wrinkled dress and the mud that has crusted over the pale green cloth, all from struggling to escape the hunter when he came upon you in the forest. His outfit—a full suit, the type noblemen wear—is perfectly clean and crisp, even though he had kidnapped you in it.

“At least your cloak is clean."

It is, and you have no idea how. 

“Change into this and keep the cloak on.” He pulls out a set of clothes for you—all white—from behind his back and tosses them at you. You don’t move to catch them, watching as they land on the ground. He throws a pair of white slippers on top of the pile. “You have two minutes. I’m afraid it won’t be pleasant for you if you make me wait.” He exits the room and shuts the door behind him, turning the key in the lock.

You hesitate for a second. Can you escape? But the only exit besides the door is the window, and it's so small that you won't be able to fit your shoulders through it even if you could reach it. So you take off your cloak, letting it drop to the ground. Two minutes isn’t a lot of time to change, especially with the layers you have on, but you manage. You finish with getting your feet into the slippers and fastening your cloak around your shoulders just as the hunter reopens the door. 

“Come,” the hunter says, moving back into the hallway. 

You follow.

The hall is just as clean as the room you were in, though it’s even darker because of the lack of windows. You follow the hunter in silence, slippers quieting your footsteps. As you turn the corner, the wall to your left is replaced by a railing as the hallway opens into a balcony at the top of a staircase. 

A door is at the bottom of the staircase. Your heartbeat quickens.

The hunter walks closer and closer to the stairs. He passes the wooden railing of the staircase and you throw yourself into action, pushing past him and flying down the stairs, skipping three steps at a time. Chest heaving with every breath, you sprint to the door, nearly tripping in your haste. With trembling fingers, you struggle to slide open the bolt, and a heavy thump behind you makes you whip your head around to look. 

The hunter is now on the same floor as you. How? you wonder as you manage to slide open the bolt. He must have jumped over the railing. What kind of monster is he? You wrap your hand around the doorknob, turning it all the way, pulling the door open, you’re free–

But your entire body jerks away from the door as the hunter yanks on your cloak. One gloved hand wraps around your throat, pulling upward so you struggle to stand on your toes and air no longer flows freely into your lungs. “It’s such a pity,” he says, watching as you scrabble at his fingers, trying to pry them away. “I was expecting so much of you. I’m disappointed that you tried to escape; you were the purest one I’ve found yet.” 

Anger burns in your veins, as powerful as your fear. And though you gasp for air, chest burning, you manage to spit out two words. “Screw. You.” 

The hunter tightens his grip in anger. A wave of darkness overtakes your vision and your body goes limp in his hand, struggling no more.

Chisaki Kai lets go of your throat, watching your body fall to the floor. “Filthy,” he mutters, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping his gloved hand on it. “Such crude language, too. It matters not; I will cure her. And I will cure the beast as well.” He folds up his handkerchief, taking care to fold the used part on the inside, and tucks it back into his suit pocket.

“Chronostasis. Bring her to where our other guest is residing. I’m afraid you’ll have to chain her up. She’s a bit flighty at the moment.”

“I’m sure you’ll fix that soon, Overhaul.”

–

You first feel the cold stone leaching warmth from your back. Shivering, you slowly sit up from the ground and look around, immediately freezing when you see a massive wolf lying halfway across the room.

Room? It’s more like a dungeon. Stone floor, stone walls, and stone ceiling. An array of sharp tools hang from one wall and heavy chains dangle from metal rings attached to the others. You shudder, this time not from the cold air. 

The hunter walks into the room, not sparing you a glance as he strides towards the wolf. Looking at him makes your throat pulse and you wince as you gently press on your skin. If you could look into a mirror, you’re sure that five finger-shaped bruises ring your throat. You start to move towards the nearest wall as quietly as you can to avoid drawing the hunter’s attention to you, but the rattle of chains makes you freeze. There’s weight attached to your left ankle. Before you even pull up the hem of your white dress, you know that you’ll see a metal shackle wrapped around it. Your eyes follow the chain to an iron ring in the wall, and your heart sinks when you realize that it’s impossible for you to break free.

The hunter moves to the wall that has all kinds of deadly instruments of torture hanging from hooks embedded in the stone. He stops in front of a table pushed up against the wall. His gloved hand plucks a syringe off the table and deftly twirls it in his fingers as he approaches the wolf. Your heart skips a beat as gleaming crimson eyes snap open and the wolf starts to growl, a low rumble filling the air. It struggles against the cuffs wrapped around each limb, the thick silver collar around its neck, and the band of metal clamping its muzzle shut. The hunter bends over the animal, jabs the needle into the wolf’s neck above the collar, and pushes the plunger, emptying it of the misty purple solution.

The hunter steps back and places the empty syringe onto the table. He stands and watches the wolf. Waiting.

The wolf starts to shake, rattling the chains attached to its limbs. Its growl grows in volume until it tapers off into whimpers of pain. 

Your heart aches for this beautiful, wild creature that is now subject to the cruel hands of the hunter. “What are you doing?” you cry out over the wolf’s misery.

Yellow eyes gleaming in satisfaction, the hunter does not look away from the wolf as he answers, “I am curing him. I’ll purify him from the disease that has taken hold of his body! And when the filth is purged, he will thank me for it.” 

The wolf growls again, which grows quieter in volume, before he collapses onto his side and his red eyes close.

“But you’re hurting him!” 

“No one is ever redeemed without a little pain,” the hunter says, almost poetically. He leaves the room, pushes the door shut, and locks it behind him.

You get up from the ground, wincing when sore joints pop and shift as you stretch. You want to see how long the chain running from your foot to the wall is, so you walk toward the middle of the room, toward the unconscious wolf. When you’re right in front of the wolf, the chain is at its limit and you can’t move your left foot forward anymore. 

If the wolf were awake, you wouldn’t even think about trying this. But it hasn’t shown any signs of waking up, so you sit down on the ground in front of him. You sit there for a bit, studying him. 

The first thing you notice is the color of his fur. It’s a cream color, just a few shades off of pure white, but most of it is matted and dirty, or is clumped into spiky tufts, held together by dried blood. It makes you sick to think about the amount of time this animal has been in captivity, subject to the hunter’s cruel experiments. And if the hunter can do this to an animal without feeling remorse, what will he do to you?

The next thing you notice is the size of the wolf. Looking at him from the tip of his muzzle to the end of his tail, he’s definitely longer than you are tall, likely the length of the larger horses people own in your village. If he stood up, you think his back could reach your waist. He’s certainly larger than any of the dogs that people in your village own. And even though he's likely been a captive for a long time, there’s still muscle on his bones. If you met him in his full glory in the middle of the woods, you’d probably run off screaming. 

In addition to the sorry state of his fur, the areas around his restraints look strange. You reach out a hand towards his head and use a finger to gently stroke a line between his ears, past his eyes, and stop at the silver band that is tightly wrapped around his muzzle. Anger heats your blood as you take in the puffy flesh around the band. The hunter had tightened it so much that the band digs into the wolf’s muzzle, and when you try to gently nudge the band down to get a glimpse at the fur underneath, the band doesn’t budge. 

You eye the sliding bolts on either side of the muzzle.

It’s dumb to even contemplate it, but the silver band looks painful. Besides, the wolf hasn’t stirred at all since he fell unconscious. Even if he does wake up, he’s held in place by all the other shackles, and surely you’d be able to tell when he is starting to come to. 

You fumble with the first bolt for a minute before it slides open and the right half of the band loosens. 

The wolf shifts. You freeze. He doesn’t move again, but lets out a noise of pain. Your panicked expression softens and you work on the next sliding bolt. 

It opens, and the band is loose enough for you to gently pull it off with one hand. Your other hand supports the wolf’s head off the ground until you finish taking the band off and set it down by your side. Your breath hitches and your eyes widen in horror at the sight that the silver band—no, the sight that the torture device reveals.

A ring of exposed skin goes all the way around the wolf’s muzzle. There’s no fur left, as if the silver band had burned it away. The skin is pink and angry like your hand was after you once spilled a kettle of boiling water over it.

Is there poison or something on the inside of the silver band? You shudder and rub your hands on the stone ground. You didn’t touch the inside of the band when you removed it, right?

Are the other shackles doing the same? You move until you can get a good look at the wolf’s front legs. Thankfully, the silver cuffs aren’t as tight around his legs as the band was around his muzzle. You slide one of the cuffs up his leg a bit, taking in the missing fur and irritated skin that rings his leg where the cuff was. A quick peek under the cuff on his other leg shows the same thing. 

It just looks so painful. You’ve only been wearing the metal shackle around your ankle for a couple hours at most, yet it’s already growing uncomfortable. The wolf seems like he’s been here for a while now, and if there is some sort of poison on the inside of his shackles that eats away at his fur and skin, he must be in so much more pain.

You can help him, you decide. The dress the hunter made you change into has multiple layers and is frilly with ruffles and lace. It makes you sick to think that he wanted you to change into the dress and keep your white cape because it made you look "pure." You shudder and push away the thoughts of the hunter.

If you rip the lace off the hem of your dress, the hunter surely will notice with his observant, amber eyes and might deem it necessary to punish you for it. You don't want to find out what that entails. So you lift up the outer layer of the dress and rub one of the thinner layers underneath between two fingers. This will do.

It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to rip three uneven strips of cloth that work as makeshift bandages.

You pick up one of the wolf’s paw with gentle hands, noticing the size of it compared to your own, and set it into your lap. You start wrapping a strip of cloth around the exposed skin, taking care to not press down hard. The cloth goes around the wound a couple of times, before you tuck the end of it under the rest. 

Sliding the shackle back down the wolf’s leg so it covers the bandage, you let out a little hum of satisfaction. It shouldn’t hurt the wolf so much anymore.

Now onto the other leg. You move the wolf’s leg off your lap, take up the other one, and start bandaging it too. You’re concentrating so hard on covering all of the wound that you don’t notice the wolf starting to shift.

A growl fills the air, and before you can try to move out of the wolf’s reach, sharp teeth latch onto your left wrist, freezing you in place. 

Your heart pounds heavily in your chest as you slowly look into the wolf’s crimson eyes. You wriggle your left arm just a little, trying to pull your hand out of his mouth, but he’s biting down hard enough that it stings—although he hasn’t broken skin. 

“Hey,” you say softly, trying to keep your fear from bleeding into your voice. “It’s okay. I’m sorry if I startled you–” He growls, causing another spike of fear to shoot through your veins, but you continue. “I was just trying to bandage your legs so the shackles won’t hurt anymore. I think the hunter put something on them to eat away at your fur and skin, maybe some kind of acid.”

You continue to explain what you are trying to do, keeping your voice low and even, finishing with “–you’re so...so magnificent, and wild, and I don’t like seeing you suffer at the hands of such a monster.”

The wolf stops growling and lets go of your hand. You quickly pull it back against you, looking at your wrist. There’s little imprints of where his teeth were, and it does sting, but there’s no blood. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, meeting his eyes once more. “I think it’s better if we help each other here, don’t you? It’ll be easier to escape if we’re both in good health. Would you let me finish bandaging your leg?” You wait for a second, then huff a small laugh, wondering why on earth you’re talking to this wolf like he can understand you.

Then the wolf shifts and you freeze, but he just places the leg you were bandaging back into your lap. You look at him for a moment, amazement shining in your eyes, before continuing where you left off. When you finish, you make sure the cloth doesn’t peek out from under the shackles, so the hunter won’t see them and remove the bandages or do something worse.

You have one more strip of cloth left, and you look at the wolf’s muzzle. “Would it be okay if I bandage your muzzle too? The silver band that was around there looked like it did the most damage.” The wolf huffs and turns his head to the side. “I’m sure you can handle it,” you say with a smile, “but there’s no need to make it worse.”

He turns back to face you, red eyes boring into your own. You reach out a hand slowly with your fingers curled towards you and let him bump his nose into the back of your hand. “Okay then,” you say, and start wrapping the cloth around his muzzle over the injury.

You’re just tucking the end of the cloth under the rest of the bandage when the wolf’s ears perk up. A low rumble fills the air and the wolf turns his head toward the entrance to the dungeon, baring his teeth even with the bandage on.

“What is it?” 

His head snaps around toward you and you’re taken aback at the ferocious expression on his face. He lowers his head so his nose points at the silver band on the ground next to you. You pick up the band, looking at it, then at the wolf. “This?” you ask. His growling grows louder as he nudges hard at your hand. Your eyes widen. His growling stops. And then you hear them.

Footsteps.

They’re growing louder and louder with every step. 

“Shoot, shoot, shoot.” Your heartbeats pick up speed as you slide the silver band over the wolf’s muzzle. Despite your haste, you try to not let it touch his muzzle any more than necessary until it’s over the bandaged part. You fumble with the sliding bolts for a moment before you get them closed, grimacing as the silver band tightens again, digging into his muzzle. At least it shouldn’t burn his skin anymore. “Sorry,” you murmur, stroking him behind his ears. You reflexively press your lips to the top of his head before you scoot back against the wall, pulling your chain with you.

You don’t see the wolf’s red eyes widen in surprise, but you watch him shift onto his side, returning to the position he was in when he collapsed from the hunter’s injection.

The hunter enters the room, still dressed in a full suit with the plague doctor mask covering his nose and mouth. He’s carrying a plate, though you can’t see anything that is on it from your position on the ground. He sets the plate on the ground a couple of steps to the side of the wolf. “I’m sure you’re hungry,” he says. “It wouldn’t be good for my guest to starve to death.”

Guest? You stifle a scoff. If this is how he treated his “guests,” you don't want to see how he treats his enemies.

The food on the plate is clearly scraps left over from a meal. But the sight of food makes your stomach growl in hunger. Hours must have passed since you last ate—an early dinner before you headed to your grandmother’s house.

You’re hungry and you need to eat, even if it is those scraps on the plate. But you’re not going to do it until the hunter leaves the room. You won’t allow him to watch you scarf down leftovers like some pet, eager to take whatever he gives.

So you stay in your spot against the wall, watching as the hunter moves to the other side of the wolf. 

He eyes the still animal. 

You hold your breath, wondering if he can tell that the wolf is faking it.

The hunter turns his back on the wolf, and you exhale in relief–

But he spins around, swinging his right foot forward, pointed toe of his boot smashing into the wolf’s side. The wolf jerks, eyes snapping open, a yelp of pain leaving his throat. He gets onto his feet and lunges for the hunter, straining against the chains, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

The hunter only looks at the wolf before he turns around, moving to the table. He picks up a syringe filled with the same purple fluid as before. As he walks back to the wolf, you recall the immense pain that the wolf experienced after the last injection.

“Hey! Stop!” you shout, getting to your feet. 

Both the hunter and the wolf turn to look at you. You freeze for a moment, having no plan in mind to prevent the hunter from administering the syringe. But you can’t just not do anything. So you march toward the hunter, going as far as the chain around your ankle allows, then cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, huh?” you sneer, “Trying to pick on something you’re so afraid of that you chained him up so he can’t fight back?”

The hunter closes the distance between you and him with two long strides and his empty hand suddenly grips your face, holding you in place. You glare at him defiantly, despite the nerves coursing through your veins. 

“I was not planning on working on you tonight, but if you insist, we can get started,” the hunter says, fingers tightening on your skin. You don't let yourself flinch. “Unless you will behave?”

You keep your eyes on his own as your lips curl up in a smirk. “How about,” you say, body tensing, “you go screw yourself!” With that, you push your weight into the hunter’s body, snatching the syringe from the hand by his side, and throw it to the ground. A hard stomp with your right foot shatters the glass, and you hold back a whimper of pain as shards pierce through your slipper and cut into your skin. Misty purple liquid pools on the stone, soaking into your shoe and seeping into cracks in the floor.

Chest heaving, you straighten up and glare at the hunter. His yellow eyes meet yours before they narrow into slits. “Very well," he says.

The air is forced out of your lungs as the hunter drives his fist into your stomach. 

Gasping for breath, you fall to the ground and curl up on your side, disregarding the glass and liquid. Over your rapid inhales, you can hear the wolf snarling and pulling against his chains.

“You’re lucky I still have more of the cure left. It would have been worse for you if I had to stop and make more.” 

You can only work to pull air into your lungs and watch through watering eyes as the hunter returns to the table and picks up another syringe. You manage to choke out a weak “No!” before the hunter drives the needle into the wolf’s neck and presses the plunger. 

As the hunter places the empty syringe back onto the table, the wolf starts to convulse, sinking to his belly. The hunter looks on for a moment with satisfaction before he leaves the dungeon.

You stay on the ground for a few more moments to catch your breath, letting the pain in your stomach recede to a dull ache before slowly sitting up. Crawling to the wolf, you sit down in front of him, frowning as his body twitches periodically. He’s unconscious now, and you hope that he can’t feel the pain that the injection causes him. But you can make him a little more comfortable.

In smoother movements than the first time, you slide open the bolts on either side of the silver band. Removing it from his muzzle, you set it to the side. You rub your fingers over the copper pin that keeps your cloak on your shoulders before you unclasp it, sliding the cloak off your back. A shiver runs down your spine when that extra layer no longer warms you, but you ignore it as you fold up the cloth. You raise the wolf’s head, slide the folded cloak underneath, and gently lower his head onto the makeshift pillow.

Sighing, you move to where you had shattered the syringe, glass and liquid still on the ground. With careful movements, you pick up the needle and as many pieces of glass that you can. You get to your feet and hobble over to the wall that your chain connects to, wincing each time your injured right foot hits the ground. At the wall, you move as far along it as your chain allows you to, before bending down and letting the needle and the glass pieces slide off your hands. The shards tinkle like bells as they hit the ground.  

With your hands empty, you’re able to crawl until you return to your spot in front of the wolf. You take off your right slipper, now partly stained red, to examine the cuts on the bottom of your foot. Thankfully, you can't find any glass in your cuts. Ripping up a strip of cloth from one of the under-layers of your dress, you bandage up your foot as well as you can, and put the slipper back on.

Your foot stings, your stomach aches, and your ankle is getting rubbed raw by the shackle. Everything that has happened since the hunter kidnapped you weighs down on your shoulders and chest, making it hard to breathe. You just want to be free.

Tears start forming at the corners of your eyes and you blink hard, trying to hold them back. I can be brave, you think to yourself, I’ll make it. 

But you’re tired, and in pain, and you’ve had to witness and experience cruelty at the hands of the hunter. So you lay down, head resting on part of the cloak that the wolf isn’t using, ignoring the cold, hard floor that draws the warmth from your skin.

Your shoulders start to shake and the tears finally fall, and you can’t stop them from streaming down your face. 

Keeping one hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs, you let out all the sorrow and anger and fear in those salty tears, before exhaustion overtakes you and you slip into a deep, still, sleep.

–

Bakugou Katsuki is barely conscious from the injection, but the smell of salt is so heavy in the air that he notices it immediately and it wakes him up further. He slowly raises his head from something softer than the stone floor, a quick look revealing a familiar folded cape that was not there when he fell unconscious. 

His ears twitch when he hears your teeth chattering, even in your sleep. He ignores it and tries to fall back asleep, but the sound continues right next to his head because you're also on the makeshift pillow.

A displeased rumble fills his chest. Annoying, he thinks. But you helped him when you saw the burns from the silver band and shackles, and Bakugou does not like being indebted to anyone.

So he shifts to his human form, wincing as the cold air of the dungeon brushes across his naked skin. “Fuck!” he hisses. No wonder your teeth were chattering. He lifts your head from the cloak and pulls it out from under you, then sets your head back down on the ground. Shaking the cloak out, he drapes it over your still form. 

His own body starts to shiver so he turns back into his wolf form, wincing at the unnatural pain that wracks his body as his bones and muscles shift. It’s those goddamn experiments from that fucking Plague Doctor. I won’t have much time left if it continues, he thinks. His red eyes look over your sleeping body.

You certainly showed bravery—or stupidity—today, willing to bandage his wounds despite the fear he could smell on you when he took your wrist between his teeth. And you stood up to the hunter, although it was useless to try and stop the injection. 

Maybe, Bakugou thinks, maybe we’ll make it out of this shithole before it’s too late. 

He shifts his paws under your head so you’re not pressed against the floor, and rests his own head next to yours. The warmth of your body seems to alleviate some of his pain, and sleep is quick to pull him under, taking him to a better time and a better place. 

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