#Torch Lit Procession

[seashorepics]

Guy Fawkes and the History Surrounding November 5th: A Legacy of Fireworks, Politics, and Tradition

Introduction November 5th in the United Kingdom, known as Guy Fawkes Night or Bonfire Night, is a unique blend of history, politics, and festivity, marked by fireworks, bonfires, and celebrations across the country. The day commemorates the foiled Gunpowder Plot of 1605, when Guy Fawkes and a group of conspirators attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament to assassinate King James I. This…

[moomoorare]

Watching Philz stream Chaynaaanne

[elikajinnie]

Hate Is A Strong Word - N.R

P: Slytherin!Ni-ki X fem!reader

Synopsis: You never imagined that the picture perfect Slytherin would like you

Warnings?: Fluff, Misunderstandings, bullying (not from N-ki). Insecurities.

a/n: So this is the start of my Hogwarts au for each of the members. Ni-ki is the first one out! :D The next one will be Jake!

masterlist

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As the heavy oak doors of the Transfiguration classroom creaked open, you walked in alongside your friend Leeseo. The room, illuminated by large arched windows that allowed beams of sunlight to dance across the stone floor, was already buzzing with the chatter of students.

Leeseo nudged you gently, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I heard today’s lesson is going to be something really challenging,” she whispered, her excitement barely contained. You nodded, sharing her eagerness. Transfiguration was one of the most fascinating subjects at Hogwarts, and Professor McGonagall’s classes were always a blend of rigorous discipline and awe-inspiring magic.

As you took your seats, you glanced toward the front of the classroom. There, standing tall and composed by the blackboard, was Professor McGonagall. Her stern yet kind eyes surveyed the room, ensuring everyone was settled. With her wand in hand, she exuded an air of authority and wisdom, her emerald robes flowing gracefully around her.

The murmurs gradually subsided as McGonagall stepped forward, her presence commanding your attention. “Good morning, class,” she began, her voice clear and steady. “Today, we will be advancing to human transfiguration, a complex and delicate branch of magic that requires utmost precision and concentration.”

The mention of human transfiguration sent a ripple of excitement and nervousness through the room. You exchanged a quick, thrilled glance with Leeseo. This was the kind of magic that defined wizardry, the intricate spells that transformed the very essence of matter.

Professor McGonagall flicked her wand, and the blackboard behind her filled with neat, precise instructions and diagrams. “Now, before we begin, I must remind you of the importance of practice and control. Improper transfiguration can have… unintended consequences.” Her eyes swept the room, emphasizing the seriousness of her words.

With a final nod of understanding, you prepared your wand and opened your textbook to the designated chapter.

After Transfiguration, your day continued with a series of classes, each filled with the usual hustle and bustle of student life at Hogwarts. Charms was lively as always, with Professor Flitwick’s enthusiastic instruction keeping everyone engaged. Herbology followed, where you worked in the greenhouse, learning about magical plants and their properties.

As the day wore on, you eventually made your way to the dungeon for Potions class. The air grew cooler and the corridors darker as you descended, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. You and Leeseo entered the dimly lit classroom, settling into your usual seats near the middle. Around you, your classmates were chatting in low tones, the anticipation palpable.

The door swung open with a dramatic flair, and Professor Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him. The room fell silent instantly, every student turning their attention to the formidable Potions Master. Snape’s presence commanded a certain respect—or perhaps fear—that was undeniable.

“Today,” Snape began, his voice a silky drawl that carried a hint of menace, “you will brew a Veritaserum.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the class. “A truth potion, which when correctly brewed, will compel the drinker to reveal their innermost secrets.”

He moved to the front of the classroom, where a cauldron was already simmering. With precise, deliberate movements, he began demonstrating the brewing process, adding ingredients with a practiced ease. His every action was fluid, almost mesmerizing, and you found yourself taking meticulous notes, your eyes darting between the instructions in the textbook and Snape’s methodical demonstration.

“Take care to follow the instructions exactly,” Snape intoned, his dark eyes sweeping the room. “Any deviation could render the potion useless… or worse.”

He finished his demonstration and stepped back, crossing his arms. “I have set up each of you with a partner, so I expect you all to work together,” he announced. The room buzzed with curiosity as you waited for your name to be called.

One by one, Snape called out the pairings. Leeseo was partnered with a Gryffindor student, and soon your name came up. “You will be working with Nishimura Ni-ki,” Snape declared.

You glanced over at Ni-ki, a Slytherin student known for his cunning nature and sharp intellect. Your eyes met briefly before he stood up and walked toward you, his expression neutral. He took the seat beside you, and for a moment, you simply looked at each other, assessing.

“Shall I cut and you brew?” Ni-ki asked, his voice calm and steady.

You nodded in agreement. “That sounds good.”

With a silent understanding, you both began your task. Ni-ki’s hands moved deftly, slicing ingredients with precision and efficiency, while you focused on the careful process of brewing, ensuring each step was followed meticulously. Though you didn’t converse much, there was an unspoken coordination between you, a shared goal that drove your efforts.

The potion started to take shape, its color gradually shifting as you added each ingredient in turn. Ni-ki’s sharp observations and quick corrections were invaluable, and you found yourself appreciating his expertise despite your limited interactions.

As the final stages approached, the potion glowed a soft, silvery hue, indicating you were on the right track. Snape prowled the classroom, occasionally stopping to observe or comment on various pairs’ progress. When he reached your desk, he paused, scrutinizing your work with his usual critical eye.

“Acceptable,” he murmured, giving a slight nod before moving on. It was high praise coming from Snape, and you felt a sense of accomplishment.

After you and Ni-ki finished brewing the Veritaserum, you let out a quiet sigh of relief and settled back into your seat. The potion simmered gently, its translucent glow a sign of your successful collaboration. With the class winding down, you pulled out your notebook and began doodling absentmindedly, your mind drifting.

Ni-ki, meanwhile, was meticulously sorting out the remaining ingredients. You stole a quick glance at him, curiosity getting the better of you. His recently dyed light hair hung in front of his eyes, accentuating his piercing stare. Despite his cold demeanor, there was an undeniable intensity in his gaze that seemed to see right through people. His robes fit him perfectly, the black fabric contrasting sharply with his pale complexion. The Slytherin badge, neatly stitched into his robes, was complemented by the prefect badge pinned just beside it, a testament to his standing and discipline.

You had to admit, even if only to yourself, that Ni-ki looked good. There was something striking about him, an aura that was hard to ignore. But you would never voice this thought out loud. You admired him quietly, keeping your appreciation to yourself. Despite his coldness, he wasn’t like some of his fellow Slytherins who resorted to bullying and teasing. No, his crime was different—he was aloof, detached, and seemingly emotionless. He was an enigma, always keeping to himself and his close-knit group of peers.

As you doodled, you found your thoughts wandering. What was Ni-ki hiding behind that expressionless face? What would it be like to see him smile, to see his features soften with joy? Did he ever feel sadness, and if so, did he let himself cry? These questions swirled in your mind, each one deepening the mystery that was Ni-ki.

Before you could ponder further, the sound of chairs scraping against the stone floor signaled the end of class. Snape’s curt dismissal barely registered as you blinked, realizing how lost in thought you had become. You looked up to find that Ni-ki had already stood up and left, leaving behind a spotless workstation. The ingredients were neatly put away, the table wiped clean. In your daydreaming, you hadn’t even noticed him tidying up.

As you left the Potions classroom, the dark and cool dungeons faded behind you, but your thoughts lingered on Ni-ki. You shook your head, trying to clear the lingering questions that kept popping up about him. It wasn’t like you cared—he was distant and cold. But the fact that he cleaned up without saying a word or asking for acknowledgment—it was almost… considerate. Strange for someone like him.

You walked down the stone corridor, heading toward the next class with Leeseo catching up to you. “How was it working with Ni-ki?” she asked, her voice light and curious.

You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral. “He’s efficient. Doesn’t talk much.”

Leeseo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Efficient? That’s not the word I expected you to use.” She grinned playfully, nudging you. “You didn’t bicker, did you?”

You rolled your eyes. “We didn’t even speak much, to be honest. He just… does his part and leaves. Not much else to say.”

“Classic Ni-ki,” she mused, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. “Still, it’s kind of impressive that you got to work with him. He’s got a reputation, you know.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” You kept your voice light, trying not to dwell on the fact that you had spent the better part of Potions class analyzing the guy instead of just brewing the potion. “It’s just one class though. Nothing special.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t help but wonder why he kept himself so closed off. There was a quiet confidence about him, yes, but also a wall that he didn’t seem to let anyone through. It made him mysterious, sure, but also frustrating. What was he hiding? Or was it just his nature, plain and simple?

Leeseo and you reached the courtyard, the cool autumn air refreshing after the confined dungeon. You tilted your head up, letting the breeze rustle through your hair, trying to shake off the distraction that Ni-ki had become in your thoughts.

“Well, he’s not bad-looking,” Leeseo added with a grin, catching you completely off guard.

You nearly choked on air, throwing her an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

She laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, you can’t deny it. He’s got that whole mysterious, brooding Slytherin thing going on. You’d be blind not to notice.”

You groaned, tugging your scarf tighter around your neck as you continued walking. “I don’t need any more distractions, thanks. We have enough on our plate with the upcoming exams and essays.” You tried to steer the conversation away, not wanting to admit that, yes, Ni-ki was ridiculously good-looking. Admiring him from afar was one thing, but beyond that? Absolutely not.

Leeseo just smiled knowingly, but thankfully, she let the topic drop as you made your way to the next class. Still, as the day went on, Ni-ki’s expressionless face, his precise movements, and the way his hair fell over his eyes refused to leave the corners of your mind.

You sighed to yourself. This was going to be harder to ignore than you thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It all really started one afternoon at the library when you were tucked away at your usual table near the back, surrounded by textbooks and parchment. You were completely immersed in your reading when you noticed a shadow fall across the table.

Looking up, you saw him—Nishimura Ni-ki.

Without a word, he pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down. No greeting, no explanation, just the soft sound of him placing his books on the table. He didn’t meet your eyes, didn’t acknowledge your surprised expression. Instead, he opened his own textbook and began reading, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to sit there.

You blinked, taken aback. For a moment, you considered asking him what he was doing. After all, it wasn’t as if the library was short on tables, and Ni-ki wasn’t exactly known for being social with anyone outside of his Slytherin circle. But instead, you tried to focus on your work, convincing yourself that he’d leave soon enough.

But he didn’t.

He stayed, flipping through pages, scribbling notes in his neat, precise handwriting. He didn’t speak, didn’t look at you—just sat there, quietly doing his own work. You couldn’t help but steal a few glances at him, confused by his presence. Why was he here, sitting with you, of all people?

After what felt like an eternity, you couldn’t hold back any longer. "What are you doing?" you asked, keeping your voice low to avoid drawing Madam Pince’s ire.

He didn’t look up from his book. "Studying," he replied, his tone clipped and direct.

You raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. But why here?"

For the first time, he looked up, meeting your eyes with that same unreadable expression he always wore. "Is there a problem?" he asked calmly, his voice steady.

You hesitated. He wasn’t being rude, exactly, but the way he spoke made it clear he didn’t think he needed to explain himself. You shook your head, deciding it wasn’t worth pushing further. "No," you muttered, turning back to your own notes.

And so the pattern began.

Each time you came to the library, Ni-ki would show up not long after. Sometimes he arrived before you, already seated at the same table, as if claiming it before you could. Other times, he’d stroll in after you’d settled down, take his seat across from you, and dive into his work. He never spoke unless you asked him a direct question, and even then, his answers were always short, almost dismissive. It wasn’t that he was unkind—just distant, like there was no need for conversation.

"Why do you keep sitting here?" you asked one day, after he’d settled into the chair across from you for what felt like the hundredth time.

He didn’t even look up. "It’s quiet," he answered simply, continuing to write in his notebook.

You frowned, not satisfied with the answer. "There are other tables. You could sit anywhere else."

"True." He glanced up briefly, his eyes meeting yours before flicking back to his book. "But I’m sitting here."

That was all he said. No further explanation, no invitation for more questions. Just a simple, matter-of-fact statement that left you feeling more confused than before.

It wasn’t like he was helping you with your work, either. He didn’t offer advice, didn’t join in on any discussions about the material you were studying. He was just… there. A quiet presence that made you hyper-aware of his every movement, even though he barely acknowledged you. It was unnerving at first, but over time, you began to expect it—Ni-ki would be there, silently doing his own thing while you tried to focus on yours.

There were moments when you found yourself glancing at him more than you should have. His hair, still that light shade, would occasionally fall in front of his eyes, and he’d push it back with a practiced motion. His fingers moved with such precision as he wrote, and his posture was always so composed, like he never let himself relax fully.

And yet, despite the quiet, there was something oddly comforting about his presence. It was strange to admit, but in the silence of the library, having him across from you became… familiar. Predictable, even.

Still, the lack of interaction left you with more questions than answers. Why sit with you every time if he had no intention of talking? What was he gaining from it? Was it simply convenience, or was there something else going on that you couldn’t see?

One afternoon, after another long stretch of silent studying, you finally broke the quiet. "You don’t have to sit here, you know."

He paused, his quill hovering over the parchment. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and for a moment, he seemed to consider your words. "I know," he said quietly, his voice softer than usual. "But I am."

And with that, he went back to his work, leaving you with nothing but the steady scratch of his quill and the growing confusion swirling in your mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the weeks passed, Ni-ki’s quiet presence at your table in the library became something you began to anticipate. It was no longer surprising when he pulled out the chair across from you, settling in without a word. At first, it had unnerved you—the silent way he occupied the space, his sharp focus on his own work, and the fact that, outside these moments, he didn’t acknowledge you at all. But now, somehow, you didn’t mind it.

In fact, you found yourself looking forward to it. His quiet company had a strange, calming effect, as if the library wasn’t truly complete without him sitting across from you. You had started to expect him there, so much so that on the rare occasions when he wasn’t, you couldn’t help but feel a little off-kilter, like something was missing from the day.

It wasn’t that the two of you had grown closer, at least not in the usual sense. He never spoke unless you asked him a direct question, and even then, his answers were brief and to the point. He offered no opinions, no conversation starters—just an occasional glance in your direction, sometimes a quiet nod. And yet, you had grown accustomed to the silence between you, a silence that felt oddly comfortable.

But the strange thing was, beyond these quiet library sessions, it was as if Ni-ki didn’t know you at all.

In classes, he barely looked your way. If he did speak to you, it was only because the lesson demanded it—when he was your partner for a potion, or during group work in Transfiguration. His responses were always curt, efficient, like he was checking off a box before returning to his own tasks. You would pass each other in the corridors, or see him in the Great Hall, always surrounded by his Slytherin friends, and it was like you didn’t exist. Not a glance, not a nod, nothing to suggest he even knew you.

It puzzled you to no end. You weren’t sure if it bothered you or just left you more curious. Why go out of his way to sit with you in the library if he had no interest in interacting with you elsewhere? It wasn’t like he needed help with his studies—Ni-ki was brilliant in his own right. And it wasn’t like you were friends, either. In fact, you had hardly spoken more than a handful of sentences to each other since you first started sharing a table.

You found yourself wondering more and more why he bothered. Why, out of all the places in Hogwarts, did he always choose the spot across from you? Why did he sit with you, week after week, without saying much of anything, only to act as if you didn’t exist the moment you left the library?

But you didn’t dare ask him. For one thing, Ni-ki was rarely alone. He was almost always surrounded by his Slytherin friends—usually fellow prefects or others from his house, most of whom carried an air of superiority that reminded you why you kept your distance from most of them. There was never a convenient moment to pull him aside, and even if there were, you couldn’t imagine what you’d say.

And then there was the other part of you, the part that didn’t exactly want to know the answer. What if it was something you didn’t want to hear? What if the reason was as simple as convenience, or worse—what if there was no reason at all? What if, to him, you were just a tablemate, nothing more?

You’d often catch yourself glancing over at him during Potions or in the Great Hall, trying to make sense of him. His friends would be laughing or talking among themselves, and there Ni-ki would be, sitting quietly, his expression unreadable, completely detached from whatever conversation was happening around him. You wondered if he was the same with them—distant, aloof, only speaking when necessary.

Sometimes you’d catch his eye, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw something—maybe recognition, maybe nothing at all. But then, he’d look away, and the moment would pass as quickly as it came.

It became a kind of ritual—this quiet routine in the library, these fleeting moments of wondering. You couldn’t deny the growing curiosity, though. Why did he choose you, out of everyone he could have sat with? And why did it seem like he was perfectly fine with just… existing alongside you, never crossing the invisible line that separated the two of you?

You wished you had the courage to ask him. But each time you considered it, you reminded yourself of who he was—Nishimura Ni-ki, Slytherin prefect, sharp-tongued and unreadable. He wasn’t someone you could just ask a simple, casual question and expect an answer that wouldn’t make you regret it.

And besides, maybe it was better this way—better to leave the mystery unsolved than to shatter the quiet routine you had somehow built with him.

Even your friends began to notice. Leeseo had raised her eyebrows the first time she saw Ni-ki sitting with you in the library, but she hadn’t said anything beyond the occasional teasing. “Your silent study buddy’s here again,” she’d say with a wink when she caught him at the table. “You two make quite the pair.”

You always brushed it off, rolling your eyes at her remarks. But deep down, a part of you wondered if she saw something you were missing. Was there more to Ni-ki’s presence than what you had convinced yourself to believe?

It was during one of those quiet afternoons, with parchment spread across the table and the soft scratch of your quill filling the silence, that you found yourself thinking about it more than usual. Why, out of all the students at Hogwarts, did he choose to sit with you? Surely, he had plenty of friends or places he could have gone. And more importantly, why did he never talk to you outside of the library?

Your eyes flicked up to Ni-ki, who was seated across from you as usual, engrossed in a large, ancient-looking tome. His light hair fell over his forehead, slightly tousled from the breeze outside. He looked calm, composed, and completely at ease, as if this had been his routine for years.

A question hovered on the tip of your tongue, one you had been pushing aside for weeks now. But before you could find the courage to ask, Ni-ki suddenly closed his book with a soft thud. You blinked, startled out of your thoughts, and he stood up, gathering his things with that same quiet precision.

He looked at you, his dark eyes briefly meeting yours. For a second, you thought he might say something, but instead, he gave a slight nod—his usual, silent goodbye. Without a word, he turned and left the library, his footsteps soft against the stone floor.

You watched him go, feeling that familiar, quiet emptiness settle in his absence.

What you didn’t know was that, in Ni-ki’s mind, a storm was brewing. A quiet turmoil, hidden beneath his calm exterior, had begun to take shape, and it was all because of you. He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain focus, to keep his thoughts clear and his goals straightforward. But lately, you had become an unexpected variable in his otherwise predictable life.

At first, he had taken little notice of you. You were just another student, one among many who populated Hogwarts. But then, slowly but surely, that indifference had shifted to something else—curiosity. He began to notice the way your brow furrowed in concentration when you studied, the way your lips would curve into a small smile when you finally grasped a particularly tricky concept. There was something intriguing about your determination, something that pulled at the edges of his awareness.

As he continued to share those quiet moments in the library with you, he found himself observing you more intently. He noticed the small things: how you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought, how your expressions shifted subtly as you worked through problems. You were a puzzle he hadn’t expected to encounter, and with each encounter, the mystery deepened.

But it didn’t stop there. What began as a mild curiosity morphed into confusion. Ni-ki couldn’t quite articulate it, but there was something compelling about you—something that made you linger in his thoughts long after he had left the library. Why did your laughter echo in his mind? Why did he find himself glancing in your direction during meals, seeking you out in the crowded Great Hall, even when he was surrounded by his friends?

It was disconcerting, to say the least. He was known for his stoic demeanor, for being the type of person who kept his emotions in check. Yet, here he was, caught in an unyielding tide of thoughts about someone he had initially dismissed. It was frustrating, and a little alarming. He was supposed to be focused on his studies, on his role as a prefect, on maintaining the reputation he had carefully crafted. So why couldn’t he shake the feeling that there was something deeper to explore with you?

Every time you caught his gaze across the Great Hall or shared a fleeting moment in the library, the storm would build inside him—curiosity colliding with confusion, a need to understand you battling against the fear of opening up. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if this was all one-sided, and he was just a distant presence in your life? The idea sent a jolt of uncertainty through him.

Ni-ki’s friends began to notice his distraction. They would tease him about how often he seemed to lose focus, how he would sometimes pause mid-conversation, his eyes drifting off to the side as if searching for something—or someone. But he brushed their remarks aside, masking his inner conflict with indifference.

He found himself wrestling with a mounting desire to approach you, to understand the enigma you represented. But every time he would gather the courage to break that silence, to say something more than the necessary exchanges during class, he hesitated. The distance between you felt both comforting and suffocating.

It was a confusing dichotomy, and Ni-ki was left to navigate his own feelings in silence, unsure of where this newfound intrigue would lead him. All he knew was that every time he sat in front of you in the library, the storm inside him would shift—pushing him closer to the edge of wanting to reach out, even as fear held him back.

He didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know why he kept coming back, why he couldn’t stay away, even though he knew that sitting there, in silence, only made things more complicated.

But he couldn’t stop. And he didn’t want to. He just needed to figure out how.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It started gradually, almost imperceptibly. The silence between you and Ni-ki began to shift, not in any overt way but in small moments that made it feel… less heavy. The library sessions continued as they always had, with Ni-ki sitting across from you, his head bent over his books, while you quietly worked on your own assignments. But there were times now when you found yourself speaking.

It started off with casual remarks. Maybe it was the stress of exams or the overwhelming workload that had you venting aloud, but Ni-ki never seemed bothered by it. He didn’t offer much in return—just a short nod or a quiet hum of acknowledgment—but he listened.

One evening, after a particularly difficult day, you couldn’t hold back anymore. "I just don’t get it," you muttered, staring at your Transfiguration textbook in frustration. "No matter how much I study, I can’t seem to get this right. And McGonagall keeps assigning more complex material like it’s nothing."

Ni-ki looked up, his eyes flicking to the page you were stuck on before settling back on your frustrated expression. He didn’t say anything, just kept watching you with that same quiet intensity you had grown used to.

"And," you continued, feeling a strange comfort in speaking your thoughts aloud to him, "there’s this Slytherin who won’t stop picking on me. Every time I pass by them, it’s like they have to make some snide comment or knock my bag off my shoulder. It’s ridiculous." You sighed, shaking your head. "But I guess that’s just how it goes sometimes."

Ni-ki’s eyes darkened slightly at your words, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing. You didn’t expect a response; you were just letting off steam. Somehow, Ni-ki’s silent presence always made it easier to say the things that were weighing on you. You could talk to him without fear of judgment or interruption. He just listened, and that was enough.

The next day, something changed. The Slytherin student who had made it their mission to irritate you suddenly stopped. They no longer sneered at you in the halls, no longer made rude remarks or tried to provoke you. In fact, they seemed to go out of their way to avoid you altogether. You didn’t understand why, but you weren’t about to complain.

And then, there was the folder. It appeared during one of your classes, a neatly organized folder filled with notes on every subject you had been struggling with. The handwriting was unmistakable—precise, clean, and undeniably Ni-ki’s. The notes were thorough, covering all the topics you had mentioned having trouble with. It was as if he had gone out of his way to compile everything you needed to help you catch up.

You didn’t know how to react at first. Gratitude and surprise warred within you as you thumbed through the pages, recognizing the meticulous effort that had gone into writing them. Ni-ki hadn’t said a word about it, hadn’t even hinted that he was going to help you like this. He had just quietly, and without fanfare, made sure you had everything you needed.

The next time you saw him in the library, you didn’t hesitate to thank him.

"Ni-ki," you began softly, looking up from your books to meet his gaze. His head lifted slightly, acknowledging that he was listening. "Thank you—for the notes." Your voice was sincere, full of the appreciation you felt. "I really didn’t expect it, but it helped a lot."

He didn’t say anything in return. He just nodded once, his face remaining as impassive as ever, as if this grand gesture was nothing out of the ordinary. For Ni-ki, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe that was just how he operated—helping silently, without drawing attention to it, without expecting anything in return.

But for you, it meant something. A lot, actually. It was a reminder that beneath Ni-ki’s cold exterior, there was more to him than he let on. His actions spoke louder than any words could, and though he kept his distance in almost every other part of your life, in these quiet moments, he was closer than anyone.

And so, you didn’t ask what had happened with the Slytherin who had suddenly stopped bothering you. You didn’t ask why Ni-ki had gone through the trouble of writing those notes for you or why he had stayed by your side all this time in the library. Because somehow, you knew. This was just Ni-ki’s way—silent, unspoken care hidden behind his cool exterior.

And that was enough for now.

One evening, during one of your usual study sessions in the library, you were stuck. The upcoming exam loomed over you, and no matter how many times you read the same question, the answer refused to reveal itself. You sat there in silence, frustration building as you stared blankly at the page in front of you.

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of parchment and soft footsteps in the distance. Ni-ki sat across from you, as usual, his head bent over his own work. The silence between you two was comfortable by now, and you didn’t expect it to be broken anytime soon. You sighed, trying to push through the mental block that had settled over you.

Then, you heard movement—a soft rustling. Glancing up, you saw Ni-ki standing. For a moment, you thought he was leaving, and disappointment bloomed unexpectedly in your chest. You looked back down, resigned to continuing your struggle alone, but then something surprising happened.

You felt the faint shift of air and the quiet creak of the wooden bench, startled, you turned your head and found him sitting right next to you. His presence was closer than it had ever been during these sessions, and it made your heart race for reasons you didn’t entirely understand.

"Where are you stuck?" Ni-ki asked, his voice soft but clear. There was no trace of his usual distance, just a quiet sincerity that caught you off guard.

Blinking, still mildly in shock from the sudden change in his behavior, you pointed at the question that had been giving you trouble. You half-expected him to glance at it, make some passing comment, and return to his seat. But instead, Ni-ki leaned in slightly, examining the material with a focused expression.

He began speaking, his voice calm and smooth as he explained the concept in clear, concise terms. There was a quiet assurance in the way he spoke, his words precise and easy to follow. He wasn’t just repeating the textbook either—he was breaking it down in a way that made it understandable, relatable even. You listened closely, hanging onto each word, and slowly, like fog lifting from your mind, the confusion began to clear.

With each sentence Ni-ki uttered, the material started to make sense. What had seemed impossible moments before was now manageable, the concepts clicking together as he guided you through the steps. His voice had a soothing quality to it, calm and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to sit with you and explain.

You found yourself glancing at him occasionally, taking in the way his eyes stayed fixed on the book, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he worked through the material with you. There was something unexpectedly gentle about the way he spoke, something that contrasted with the cold, distant persona he usually kept up. And in this moment, sitting side by side in the dim light of the library, it was hard to remember why you had ever thought of him as distant at all.

When he finished explaining, you stared at the page for a moment, absorbing the new understanding. It felt like a weight had lifted, and for the first time in hours, you felt a surge of confidence that maybe—just maybe—you could actually manage this exam.

"Does that make sense now?" Ni-ki asked, his voice still soft.

You nodded, almost dazed. "Yeah… it does. Thanks."

He didn’t say anything in response, just gave a small, barely noticeable nod before settling back into his seat, returning to his own work as if nothing unusual had happened.

But something had shifted between you. You weren’t sure what it was exactly, but the air felt different now—less like the quiet companionship you had grown used to and more like… something else. Something unspoken.

You sat there for a few moments longer, still processing both the study material and the fact that Ni-ki had just sat next to you, helped you. He hadn’t done it begrudgingly either; he had simply done it because you needed help. And his presence, his voice, had made all the difference.

As you returned to your notes, you couldn’t help but glance at him again, wondering what other sides of Ni-ki lay hidden beneath the surface.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

One evening, after hours of studying and flipping through books, you found yourself exhausted. Your eyes were burning from reading the same passage over and over, and you sighed loudly, resting your head on the table. Ni-ki glanced up from his work, giving you a quizzical look.

“Long day?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, almost concerned.

You nodded, not lifting your head. “Yeah. Between Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology, I feel like my brain is going to melt.”

There was a pause before you heard him shifting in his seat. “Potions is your weakest subject, right?”

You looked up, blinking in surprise. It wasn’t like Ni-ki to make small talk, and the fact that he remembered your struggles in Potions caught you off guard.

“Yeah,” you admitted, sitting up straighter. “It just doesn’t click for me like other subjects do.”

Ni-ki seemed to consider this for a moment before responding, “I used to be terrible at Potions too. In second year, I once brewed a Sleeping Draught that knocked out half the class. Snape wasn’t pleased.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a laugh escaping you. “No way! You, bad at Potions? I can’t believe it.”

“Everyone starts somewhere.”

Another time, while working on your Charms essay, you noticed Ni-ki was unusually quiet—even for him. He wasn’t reading or writing, just sitting there, staring at his open textbook with an intense focus that seemed off.

You hesitated before asking, “Are you okay? You seem… distracted.”

He didn’t look up at first, his fingers absentmindedly tapping the table. “I’m fine,” he said, but his tone lacked its usual confidence.

You waited, sensing that he wasn’t fine at all. After a long moment of silence, Ni-ki finally spoke again, quieter this time. “I’m… just thinking about some things. It’s nothing important.”

You could tell that was a lie. He was always so composed, so in control of his emotions, that seeing him unsettled was strange. But you didn’t push him. Instead, you offered something simple.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Ni-ki glanced at you, his expression softening just a little. He didn’t say anything, but the small nod he gave you felt like a thank you.

Another late night, the library was almost empty, save for you and Ni-ki at your usual spot. You had been studying for hours, and exhaustion was starting to settle in. You stretched, groaning as you reached for your quill.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you muttered. “My brain is fried.”

Ni-ki glanced up from his book, closing it with a quiet snap. “Take a break.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the suggestion. “You? Telling me to take a break? What’s gotten into you?”

“Even I take breaks sometimes.”

Skeptical, you raised an eyebrow. “Really? I’ve never seen it.”

Instead of responding, Ni-ki stood up and stretched, motioning for you to follow him. “Come on. Let’s walk around for a few minutes.”

Confused but curious, you followed him out of the library and into the cool night air. The two of you walked in silence for a while, the soft breeze helping to clear your mind. After a few minutes, Ni-ki broke the silence.

“You push yourself too hard sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the observation. “You’re one to talk.”

He shrugged “Maybe. But I know when to stop.”

But perhaps the most unexpected moment came one late afternoon, as you both sat in the library, quietly working on your respective assignments. You were in a lighter mood that day, having finally finished an essay that had been plaguing you for weeks. Feeling more relaxed, you absentmindedly began talking about the ridiculous antics of a few fellow students during Herbology, mimicking the professor's reactions with exaggerated gestures and voices.

Ni-ki, as usual, didn’t say much, just listened with his usual calm expression. But then, something shifted. When you imitated Professor Sprout tripping over a Mandrake root, you caught it—the faintest twitch of his lips. At first, you thought you had imagined it, but then it happened again. His lips curved up into a small smile, and for a brief moment, Ni-ki’s usually composed face broke into something entirely different.

You froze mid-sentence, staring at him in shock. Ni-ki—quiet, serious, and often unreadable—was smiling. Not just a polite smile, but a genuine one, and you could see a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed your stunned expression.

“I… I didn’t know you could smile,” you blurted out, completely forgetting your earlier train of thought.

Ni-ki’s smile widened, and then, to your utter disbelief, a soft chuckle escaped him. It was quiet and brief, but it was there—a real laugh. And suddenly, the cold, distant image you had of him cracked just a little more, revealing something warmer, something softer beneath the surface.

He quickly composed himself, the smile fading but not disappearing entirely. “I’m not a statue,” he said dryly, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that you had never seen before.

“I mean, I guess I just assumed…” you trailed off, still processing the fact that you had just witnessed Ni-ki laugh.

And then, with a small smile still playing at the corners of his lips, Ni-ki returned to his work, leaving you to sit there.

But one of the most memorable moments between you happened during a study session where, for once, things were going smoothly. You were both focused on your work when a random thought popped into your head, and without thinking, you said it aloud.

“Do you think Professor McGonagall’s animagus form ever accidentally knocks things off tables like a real cat?”

Ni-ki looked up at you, clearly confused. “What?”

You laughed, suddenly realizing how ridiculous the thought sounded. “I mean, she’s a cat, right? What if she just can’t help herself and bats things off desks?”

For a moment, Ni-ki just stared at you, and you thought he was going to tell you off for not focusing. But then, to your utter shock, he started laughing—a real, genuine laugh. It wasn’t loud, but it was pure, and the sound of it made your heart skip a beat.

“Why would you even think of that?” he asked, still chuckling.

You shrugged, grinning. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head.”

Ni-ki shook his head, still smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

But there was no malice in his words, only a warmth that hadn’t been there before. And in that moment, you realized just how much closer the two of you had become. And seeing him laugh—really laugh—was something you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

----------------------------------------

It was a quiet afternoon when it happened. You had just finished another study session in the library with Ni-ki. He had helped you with a particularly difficult problem, and though he was his usual quiet self, you had left feeling a sense of warmth—like things between you were truly starting to shift. Maybe Ni-ki didn’t always show it in public, but you were sure he valued your time together, even if it was mostly in the library.

However, as you made your way through the corridors, feeling content from the productive session, a group of girls—Ni-ki’s admirers, if you were honest—blocked your path. Their expressions weren’t friendly, and you could tell right away that something was off.

Before you could say anything, they pushed you into an empty classroom, closing the door behind you. The leader of the group, a girl you recognized as one of Ni-ki’s more obsessive followers, crossed her arms, sneering.

“So,” she began, voice dripping with disdain, “you think you're special, huh? Just because you spend time with Ni-ki in the library?”

You froze, your heart pounding. You didn’t know what to say, so you just stared at them, trying to keep calm.

“Do you actually believe he cares about you?” another one chimed in. “He’s just too polite to tell you to leave him alone.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but the leader cut you off. “Oh, please. He pities you. You should hear the things people say. They’re always wondering why he wastes his time on someone like you.”

Her words hit hard, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “That’s not true. He helps me because he—”

“Because he what?” she interrupted with a cruel laugh. “Because he likes you? Don’t be stupid. He only tolerates you. He never talks to you outside the library, does he?”

That made you pause. It was true—Ni-ki never approached you in the halls, never spoke to you outside of your library sessions. He barely acknowledged you in class unless it was absolutely necessary. Even when you saw him with his friends, he acted as if you didn’t exist.

They could see the doubt in your eyes, and the girl smirked, sensing victory. “See? You know it’s true. If he really liked you, why would he act like you don’t exist when you’re not sitting across from him in the library?”

You stayed silent, unable to find an answer. The doubts they were planting in your mind started to grow roots, wrapping around your thoughts and pulling you into a spiral of overthinking.

“He probably thinks you’re a burden,” one of the girls said with a mocking laugh. “I mean, why else would he avoid you in front of his friends? He doesn’t want them to see him hanging out with someone like you.”

The words stung, each one cutting deeper than the last. You tried to fight back, tried to tell yourself that Ni-ki’s quiet nature didn’t mean he didn’t care, but their accusations fed into your worst fears. What if you really were just a burden to him? What if he did pity you, and that’s why he never spoke to you outside of your study sessions?

You kept quiet, and they could see they had hit their mark.

“Face it,” the leader said, stepping closer with a satisfied smirk. “Ni-ki feels sorry for you. You’re nothing to him.”

You bit your lip, holding back the sting of tears. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but the words had already wormed their way into your head. Why did he only talk to you in the library? Why didn’t he ever approach you outside of that space? You thought you had gotten closer to him, but maybe you had been wrong all along.

They left you there in the empty classroom, their mocking laughter echoing in the halls as they disappeared. You stood frozen in place, your thoughts swirling with doubt and confusion, questioning everything you thought you knew about Ni-ki and your growing connection with him.

That one question kept repeating in your mind: Why didn’t he talk to you outside of the library?

After that confrontation in the empty classroom, you couldn’t shake the words that had been thrown at you. The girls' taunts, the doubts they had planted in your mind—they echoed endlessly, gnawing at your thoughts and twisting everything you thought you knew about your relationship with Ni-ki. Every time you walked through the halls, you felt a strange weight on your chest.

You began to pull away, slowly at first. It started with cutting your library sessions shorter. Where once you might have lingered for hours, speaking to Ni-ki about anything and everything, now you found yourself packing up your things earlier, offering hurried excuses about homework or other commitments. Ni-ki would glance at you but never say much, and his silence only added to your doubts. It was almost like he didn’t notice your growing distance, or maybe, you thought bitterly, he didn’t care enough to ask.

The distance grew wider as the days passed. You started skipping your library sessions altogether, avoiding the places you knew Ni-ki would be. The once-familiar space where the two of you had shared quiet moments now felt like a weight, a place filled with uncertainty and confusion. You didn’t know what to make of your feelings, or of Ni-ki’s. Were you really just a burden to him? Did he pity you, as they had said?

It hurt too much to face him, so you stopped trying.

In the hallways, you could feel his gaze on you. Even if you weren’t looking, you knew when Ni-ki was nearby. It was as if some invisible thread still tied the two of you together, but now it felt frayed and fragile, a connection you didn’t know how to mend. You passed by him in the corridors, your head down, avoiding his eyes at all costs. In the Great Hall, you chose seats far away from where he and his Slytherin friends sat. But somehow, it didn’t matter. You could feel his eyes on you from across the room, his gaze following your every move, and each time, it sent a wave of guilt crashing over you.

You never looked back at him, though. You couldn’t.

You skipped classes you shared with him. It started with one or two missed lectures, but eventually, it became a pattern. Without him, you struggled, barely scraping by with borrowed notes from friends. They weren’t as clear or detailed as Ni-ki’s notes, but they would have to do. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him for help again.

Despite all your attempts to avoid him, Ni-ki’s presence lingered everywhere. You didn’t know if it was your mind playing tricks on you, or if he really was watching you more closely now. Whatever it was, you felt more conflicted than ever. You wondered if he noticed your absence, if he cared, but then that gnawing insecurity crept back in, reminding you of what those girls had said. He’s just too polite to tell you to leave him alone.

The more you thought about it, the more you withdrew. Doubts clouded every memory of your time with Ni-ki, twisting your perception of everything he’d done for you—the notes, the help with your studies, the quiet moments you’d shared. What if it had all been one-sided? What if you had been nothing more than a project, a pity case?

And so, you kept your distance, avoiding the boy whose piercing gaze you could no longer bear to meet, and wondering if maybe, in the end, they had been right all along.

-----------------------------------------

You had been so lost in your thoughts, your mind circling around the same questions, the same doubts, that you didn’t even realize where your feet were taking you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you noticed the dim, cold lighting of the dungeons, the walls lined with stone, and the distant murmur of voices. You froze, recognizing how close you were to the Slytherin dorms.

Instinctively, you were about to turn and head back the way you came when the sound of laughter caught your attention. It was light, warm, and carefree—a sound that felt almost foreign in this part of the castle. Curious, despite yourself, you peeked around the corner.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Standing there, casually leaning against the wall, was Ni-ki. His head was tilted slightly back, his face scrunched up in genuine amusement, his white teeth flashing in a wide grin. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the edges, his normally stoic expression completely replaced by something so light and happy that it shocked you. You had never seen him like this before. His laugh, his smile. It made him seem younger, softer, almost…adorable. For a moment, you were completely transfixed, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

But then, your eyes flickered to the people surrounding him. His friends—other Slytherins you recognized—were standing nearby, laughing along with him. Among them, you spotted a few of the girls who had cornered you in the empty classroom, their cruel words still echoing in your mind. The sight of them, standing so close to Ni-ki, chatting and laughing as if everything was normal, sent a jolt of discomfort through you.

And then, before you could react, one of Ni-ki’s friends noticed you. His expression shifted slightly as he leaned in to whisper something in Ni-ki’s ear.

Ni-ki turned.

Your heart dropped.

His gaze locked onto yours from across the hallway, his laughter fading instantly. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, a gasp escaping your lips as you quickly turned on your heel and speed-walked down the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and that scene as possible.

Your heart was pounding, your thoughts racing. He was laughing with them. With those girls… The image of his bright smile, so carefree, so natural, was seared into your mind, but it was tainted now by the memory of the people surrounding him—the people who had made you doubt everything.

Had he heard what they said? Did he know?

You didn’t wait to find out. All you knew was that you needed to get as far away from the dungeons, and from Ni-ki, as quickly as possible.

You didn’t exactly know how you ended up in the library, but here you were, tucked away in a quiet, hidden corner that no one ever really bothered with. It was your place, somewhere you used to come to study, or more recently, to avoid. The shelves towered above you, enclosing you in their safe, comforting silence, but it did little to ease the heavy weight in your chest.

Wiping away the stray tears that had already started to fall, you slid down to the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest. Your bag dropped beside you with a soft thud, the books spilling out carelessly, but you didn’t bother to pick them up. It felt like too much effort, like you couldn’t muster the energy to do anything but curl in on yourself.

Tears fell freely now, and you buried your face in your arms, trying to muffle the soft sobs that escaped. Everything had just… built up. The confusion, the distance, the hurt from what Ni-ki’s admirers had said, and now seeing him so happy without you. You had tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter, that he was just a library acquaintance, but the truth was that it did matter. More than you wanted to admit.

The quiet of the library felt like it was pressing down on you, suffocating in its stillness, yet at the same time, it was the only place where you could let go like this. Where no one would see you, no one would ask questions, and no one would tell you that you were being silly for feeling this way.

You cried softly, the hurt you’d been bottling up for so long finally breaking free. The words of those girls echoed in your mind, their sneering voices telling you that Ni-ki pitied you, that he didn’t care, that you were nothing to him. The worst part was that you had started to believe it.

The image of Ni-ki laughing with his friends flashed before your eyes again, and it only deepened the ache in your chest. He seemed so happy, so… distant. And you? You were nothing but a fading presence, something he could ignore outside of your shared library sessions. You had convinced yourself that maybe you had become friends, maybe there was something more, but now, it all felt like a lie.

The sobs came harder now, your chest tightening painfully as you curled further into yourself. You didn’t want to care this much. You didn’t want to feel this way. But here you were, hiding in the shadows of the library, crying over someone you weren’t even sure cared about you at all.

The quiet shuffling beside you broke through your tears, making you look up from your curled position. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Ni-ki standing right there, holding your bag in his hand, his face full of worry. His usually composed expression was soft, eyebrows knitted together as he searched your face.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

You sniffled, quickly wiping your nose with the back of your sleeve and nodding, though your heart wasn’t in the gesture. You looked away, half-expecting him to leave like always, to walk away and give you space. But instead, you heard him set his bag down. You glanced at him, shocked, as he sat beside you on the floor.

Ni-ki leaned back against the shelves, closing his eyes for a moment before sighing deeply. "I know you’ve been avoiding me," he said, his voice softer than usual, yet it held a vulnerability you weren’t used to hearing from him. He opened his eyes, looking directly at you, and asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

You sat up, startled by his question. "What? No, no, of course you didn’t!" you answered quickly, panic rising in your chest.

He tilted his head slightly, clearly unconvinced. "Then why…" His words trailed off as he sighed again. He looked at you, his expression filled with something close to concern. "Please… tell me. I’m worried about you," he admitted, his voice quiet.

His words made your heart clench. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it made it harder to stay quiet. You gulped, trying to steady yourself. This was the moment you had been dreading. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to say the words that had been haunting you since that confrontation. But seeing him here, sitting beside you, waiting for an explanation—it was enough to make you break.

"I…" You began, your voice shaky. "It’s not you, Ni-ki, really. You didn’t do anything wrong." You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. "Some girls… they confronted me, said that you pitied me. That you thought I was a burden… and it got in my head. They asked why you never talk to me outside the library, and… I started wondering if they were right."

Ni-ki’s expression shifted immediately, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What? Why would they say that?"

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. "They said I was stupid for even thinking we were friends… that I didn’t matter to you outside of studying."

There was a long pause, the silence hanging heavily between you. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, too afraid of what you might see in his eyes. But then, after what felt like an eternity, Ni-ki’s voice broke the silence.

"That’s not true," he said quietly, his tone firm but gentle. "You’re not a burden. I don’t pity you."

You slowly looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze. His usual calm exterior was gone, replaced by something raw, something real.

"I didn’t know you felt like that," Ni-ki continued, his voice soft. "I… I just didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me outside the library. I didn’t think I was someone you’d want to be around like that."

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "What? But… you’re always surrounded by people. Why would you think that?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, people, not friends. Most of them just see me as Ni-ki, the Slytherin prefect or whatever. I don’t… I don’t let people in easily. But you…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "I guess I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed your company until you started avoiding me."

His words made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth amidst all the confusion and hurt.

"I’m sorry," you whispered. "I didn’t mean to make assumptions or push you away. I just… I didn’t know what to think."

Ni-ki shook his head, his gaze softening. "It’s okay. I should’ve been more clear with you." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I want you to know… I don’t just think of you as someone I study with. I…" He trailed off again, his cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. He looked vulnerable, in a way you had never seen before.

"I care about you," he finally said, the words slow and deliberate, as if he had been holding onto them for a long time. "More than you think."

Your breath caught in your throat at his admission. For a moment, you just sat there, staring at him, unsure of how to respond. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you—it made your chest tighten in a way that was both overwhelming and comforting.

"I…" you started, your voice faltering. You didn’t know what to say, how to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

But you didn’t have to say anything, because in that moment, Ni-ki smiled at you—genuinely smiled, the corners of his lips turning up, his eyes softening. It was a small, almost shy smile, but it was enough to make you realize that everything you had been overthinking, all the doubts and insecurities, had been for nothing.

Ni-ki cared. He had always cared.

Ni-ki stayed by your side, his presence steady and comforting as you finally let the weight of everything spill out. You told him about the girls, your voice shaky at first, but as you continued, you felt lighter, as though every word lifted a little bit of the burden off your chest. His expression shifted the moment you named them, his brows drawing together in a way you’d never seen before—serious, almost dangerous.

For a moment, you worried that he might storm off, that his calm demeanor would crack and he’d go after them. But instead, he simply listened, his face tight with restrained anger, and when you finished, he surprised you once again.

He opened his arms.

Without a second thought, you slid into his embrace, feeling his warmth surround you, his arms wrapping securely around your back. His chin rested lightly on top of your head, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you smiled—a real, genuine smile.

"They were wrong," he murmured softly, his voice vibrating through his chest. "You mean so much more to me than they could ever understand."

You felt your heart swell at his words, the knot in your stomach slowly unraveling. He didn’t hate you. He never had.

When you finally pulled back from the hug, your gaze met his, and the intensity of his eyes made your breath hitch. His face was still close, his cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he paused, swallowing nervously.

"I…" he began, his voice a little shaky. "I need to tell you something." His eyes darted away for a moment before finding yours again, determination setting in. "I’ve been… thinking about this for a while, and I just—" He sighed, clearly flustered. "I don’t know how to say it."

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden vulnerability. Ni-ki, the calm, collected boy who never seemed to let anything rattle him, was stuttering and blushing, his usual composure unraveling before your eyes.

"I-I like you," he blurted out, his face now fully red. "A lot. I have for a while, but I didn’t know how to say it. I’m not good at this stuff, and I didn’t want to make things weird between us, but when you started avoiding me, I—"

He was rambling now, his words spilling out in a rush, and you could tell he was struggling to keep up with his own thoughts. It was so unlike him, seeing him this vulnerable, this unsure. It was endearing.

Before he could continue, you acted on impulse, reaching up to gently cup his face and pulling him toward you. His eyes widened in surprise just before your lips met his.

For a split second, you could feel his shock, his body freezing beneath your touch. But then, just as quickly, he melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to cup the sides of your face, pulling you closer. His lips were soft, hesitant at first, but then the kiss deepened, his movements growing more sure, more confident. He held you like you were something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of.

The world seemed to disappear around you, the weight of everything that had been bothering you fading away in the warmth of his embrace. It was just you and Ni-ki, the soft press of his lips against yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than either of you realized.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, your face warm from the intensity of the moment. Ni-ki stared at you, his lips slightly parted, still processing what had just happened.

"I… uh…" He blinked, his usual calm demeanor shattered, and it made you smile.

"That was your way of saying you like me too, huh?" he asked with a sheepish grin, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

You laughed softly, nodding. "Yeah… I like you too, Ni-ki."

His smile widened, this time filled with a mixture of relief and happiness. "I’m glad," he said softly, his voice warm and full of sincerity.

For a moment, you both just sat there, basking in the newfound closeness, the tension that had been between you for weeks dissolving into something sweet, something real.

"Let’s forget about those girls," he murmured after a while, his forehead resting gently against yours. "They don’t know what they’re talking about. All that matters is you and me, okay?"

You nodded, your heart full. "Okay."

[lilacgaby]

title: awaken.

pairing: barbarian!bakugo x goddess!reader,

synopsisꨄ. you've been asleep all this time, who knew a barbarian would be the one to awaken you?

(extended ver of this)

as katsuki wandered through the never ending forest, he let the words of the elders ring through his head. "you'll never be anything more than a placeholder for the next king."

he set off, destined to prove himself, show that he was worth more than any of them could predict. his father was worried and heartbroken at his sudden departure, but his mother understood that he'd need to do this now, or he'd never forgive himself.

the first thing he did as he set off was to secure food for the night. he eyed a group of hogs, all large and heavy, perfect for feeding him throughout the night. he grabbed the bow out of his satchel and aimed it at the largest one, which landed perfectly in his target's head. he couldn't help but to let out a celebratory laugh as it fell to the ground, making the hogs around it scurry off into the forest.

that seemed to be the last of his luck for the day. he now wished he chose a different day to set off, as the rains and winds were heavy, it was impossible to set up camp in the forest as it was. suddenly, through the curtains of heavy greenery, he saw an abandoned structure. he'd prefer anything to the harsh conditions mother nature set out on him now, so he cut through the vines as he made his way into the structure.

it was grand inside, he thought. he couldn't see very well thanks to the darkness brought on by the rains, but from what he could see it must have been a place of high regard in its peak.

he lit a torch, carrying it as he continued on into the structure. he determined it had been a church in its old days, long forgotten due to.. well he didn't figure that part out yet.

he bumped into a object that resembled a bench, besides the old candle wax, fresh leaves, and golden statutes he saw littering it. he made a mental note to take those with him as he organized his things onto the bench.

he laid his wine down first, a treat he'd enjoy on the way back to his kingdom. next, he laid down his clothes he planned to change into. though he was a barbarian, and by nature they did not wear many clothes, katsuki knew the trip would require such clothing, so he brought the best.

his next item was the huge hog he'd caught earlier. he lugged it on to the bench-like object, thinking of how it was a perfect spot to gut and prepare it for his meal later on. speaking of his cooking, he made sure to bring only the finest oils to cook in. he set it down next to the hog, satisfied with his array of items, he'd slumped against the bench, closed his eyes and sighed.

when he opened it again, he saw the shadow of a person moving behind him. alarmed, he readied his other weapon he always kept on his side, his blade welded by his mother.

though, his blade was dropped out of his hand at the sight. his jaw went slack, eyes wide, and the sudden urge to worship overcame him as he finally saw who was behind him.

a gorgeous.. deity? who glowed with an luminous essence, who adorned pointed ears, heavy amounts of gold, a silk dress that encapsulated your body, and an unreadable expression as you sifted through his items.

the ability to speak was taken from him, he felt as if he was at your mercy, and he was. he was on his knees before he could process it.

your hands glided through the items he had placed on the bench, after you finished looking through the group, you finally spared him a glance.

"your gifts are of high value," you spoke, your voice royal, with an unimaginable presence. "i'm not as powerful as i used to be, my temple and followers were lost to time, my memory faded from the minds of the new." you sauntered over to him now, becoming eye-level with him.

he'd never felt so unworthy.

"i have not much i can give you or do for you, so what would you like from me?"

his ability to speak finalky returned, his mind though, remained blank, so he answered with the only thing on his blank mind:

"your hand."

he immediately rescinded back, never feeling so unnerved and unknowing as he did in this moment. "i- it was an unreasonable request! you-- it's beneath y-"

"that's acceptable. i will go with you, barbarian."

he was shocked as you accepted, though he wouldn't dare question your judgement. "katsuki." he blurted out. "please call me katsuki."

"i will marry you, if it's what you desire katsuki."

his eyes shot open. "yes. i-- it's what i'd like."

"you may call me [name] then." he clutched his heart, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming, but if he was he'd never want it to end.

"alright.. [name]." you smiled at the hesitance in his voice, and waved his worries off with a smile.

"shall we head out then?"

"we can't, the weather is horrible."

"what weather? it's sunny as normal." surely enough, as he turned around the weather had returned to a calm, warm day. the harsh winds and rains no longer present, replaced by the mundane weather.

"i-- i suppose you're correct." he gathered his supplies, even getting your permission to take the things he had on your alter, as he learned it was, back with you two. he slung his satchel behind his back and turned to you.

you held out your hand, and after he placed a chaste kiss on it, he carried you in his arms. the journey back was a blur to him, the burning in his feet nonexistent as he focused on the feeling of his skin on yours, the feeling of his hands on your body.

you arrived sooner then expected. internally, katsuki was excited. not only did he manage to revitalize a goddess, but he'd marry her. he was ecstatic not only at the prospect of beating this into the elders' faces, but to be yours for his eternity.

as he burst back into the conference room, the elders were shocked to see him back so soon. the smug expressions they would've gotten were wiped off the second they noticed you in his arms.

even they, from their distance at their cabinets, could sense the raw presence you had.

"prince bakugo, what is the meaning of this?"

"i've brought to you undeserving folks my wife."

the table of elders all collectively choked at the revelation. "wife? but we've yet to go through the proper trails and period of compatibility. that woman isn't even a barbarian."

"you're right, she's above all of you. she's a deity, and i've earned her hand in marriage. i want my wedding planned for next week, make it fit for a god."

"a deity you say?" the elder's felt like their eyes were about to burst out their sockets. "but--"

they heard nothing as he walked away from the room, you still in his arms. as you eyed the new, strange innovations and buildings around you, katsuki clutched you closer to his chest.

he set you onto a bed, the feeling of silk under your hands one that was foreign, as you hadn't been awakened for over a century.

he knelt in front of you, taking off one of his necklaces, and wordlessly asking for permission to set it on you.

you didn't know this, but this was sacred to the barbarians, presenting one's necklace to another was like talking a piece of your soul and entrusting them with it.

he looked at the sight of you, his ruby necklace with the teeth of the beasts he slayed contrasting severely to the gold you adorned, and he smiled.

you felt your heart go into a knot at the sight of him, he held your hand as he suddenly made a vow to you.

"i vow to be your greatest worshipper. even if i am not the last, i will set a standard that will long exceed my lifespan.

for you are my wife now, and i'll cherish you as long as i may live."

you smiled softly, reaching out to him to hold his other hand. "you've already become my most interesting worshipper, that i'm certain of."

as the two of you basked in each others presence, other gods were smiling upon you two as well.

unbeknownst to you, zeus, a god who had favored you since your birth, had set off the storm on bakugo, leading him to your alter.

not like it was what you were pondering at the moment anyway, as you caressed and embraced your soon to be husband, who you were already planning to turn into a god alongside you.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

SHE’S MY GIRL.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ J. POTTER

SUMMARY ৎ୭ ever since james called you his girlfriend to scare off a guy, he hasn’t stopped holding your hand or looking at you like you hung the stars—almost like he isn’t pretending at all

WARNINGS ಇ. fever, lots of pining, james being annoyingly sweet, your heart betraying you against your will, fluff

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 851

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

James Potter always had a flair for the dramatic. It wasn’t new—you’d witnessed his antics for years, from serenading Lily Evans in the Great Hall to playing keeper with his broom upside down during Quidditch practice. But tonight? Tonight was a new level.

You’d barely had time to exchange pleasantries with the guy—blond, a little too forward, definitely not your type—before James swooped in, wrapping an arm casually around your waist.

“Oi, mate,” James interrupted, his grin as charming as ever but his voice sharp, “appreciate the interest, but she’s taken.”

“Taken?” The guy raised an eyebrow, eyeing the two of you skeptically. “By you?”

“Yep,” James confirmed, pulling you closer. “She’s my girl.”

His hand tightened ever so slightly against your hip, and before you could even process what was happening, he turned to you, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “Right, love?”

“Uh…” You stared at him, wide-eyed. His expression didn’t waver, and somewhere beneath the initial confusion, you caught on. “Right! Yes. Taken. That’s me. Definitely...taken.”

James’ grin widened. “See? Glad we’re on the same page.”

Blond Guy looked unconvinced but grumbled something under his breath before walking off. As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to James, trying to keep your tone light. “Taken? Really?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just declared himself your boyfriend in front of half the party. “What can I say? You looked like you needed saving.”

“From what? An awkward conversation?”

“Exactly,” he teased, steering you toward the snack table. He grabbed your hand. “C’mon, let’s have fun with it.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Truthfully, it was easier this way. James had a way of making things seem natural, effortless, even when they weren’t.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

If James was pretending, he was dangerously good at it. He held your hand as you walked through the party, his thumb brushing idly against your knuckles. He fetched drinks for you, offering the first sip with a playful wink. At one point, he rested his chin on your shoulder while you talked to Mary, his presence warm and steady against your back.

It was…intoxicating. Dangerous.

“You’re really leaning into this,” you murmured at one point, tilting your head to glance at him. He was standing close, close enough that you could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes, the faint dimple in his cheek as he smiled.

“Course I am,” he said breezily. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

Your heart stuttered, but you pushed it down, burying the feelings that had lingered just beneath the surface for far too long.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

By the time James walked you back to your dorm, the party was winding down. The corridors were quiet, lit only by the faint glow of torches, and you felt the weight of the night settle over you.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said, breaking the silence. “I…it was fun.”

James’ grin softened. “Anytime.”

You paused outside the portrait hole, hesitating. Finally, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He stiffened slightly, just for a moment, before relaxing, his arms looping around your waist.

“We’ll tell everyone it was a joke tomorrow,” you murmured against his shoulder. “No harm done.”

James froze. You felt it immediately, the way his arms tensed, the way his breathing hitched.

“James?” you pulled back, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“I just—” He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking anywhere but at you. “It’s not a joke to me, okay? I mean, I didn’t think it would be so bloody obvious tonight, but—I like you. Like, really like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he continued, words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, and I didn’t mean to mess things up or make it weird. I just—ugh, Merlin, I’ve really mucked this up, haven’t I?”

“James,” you said softly, stepping closer. His panicked rambling cut off as you wrapped your arms around him, your cheek pressed against his chest. “You didn’t muck anything up.”

He stiffened, clearly confused. “I didn’t?”

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, a knowing smile playing on your lips. “No. Because I’ve known all along.”

“You—what?”

You laughed, the sound light and happy. “You’re not exactly subtle, James. But for what it’s worth, I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost comical. “You—you like me back?”

You grinned, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

James stared at you, dumbfounded, before breaking into the brightest smile you’d ever seen. “Well, that’s—that’s brilliant!” He hugged you tightly, spinning you in a circle as you laughed.

As he finally set you down, he beamed at you, eyes sparkling. “Guess we won’t be telling anyone it was a joke tomorrow, huh?”

“No,” you agreed, your heart full. “I guess we won’t.”

And as James leaned down to kiss you properly, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[the-sword-lesbian]

There’s a Valkyrie in my repair bay…

“In” is a sort of operative word here, because the only parts “inside” are the crown and 60% of the torso. The legs and three of remaining wings are hanging out clear into the scrapyard. And the fourth wing is still sitting in the crash site half a mile down the hill.

If a drone or any Colonial Empire ships pass over they’ll spot her. And then she’s done for. And my entire family probably will be too.

But we couldn’t just leave her out there.

After we got the Valkyrie towed 'inside', a process that took all three of our heavy loaders and the skifftruck, some of the uncles went to work with the arc cutters on the crown. We figured after being down for three hours now if the pilot still hadn't ejected already something must be really wrong, so we set ourselves to the task of getting them out.

"Ay cousins!" one of the uncles shouted. "Get a chain over here and we can pull this cut plate out!"

Theresa tossed a coil and hooked it on to the crane while I threw it up the scaffold to uncle Rica.

"Estra," they said after catching the chain. "Come up here and help us get this thing open."

I took off up the rails of the scaffold, right as the crane started pulling at the plate.

"Alright take it up Theresa!" uncle Ortega called out.

The slack pulled out of the chain and there was a heavy groaning noise on both ends before the cutout of the plate snapped loose and flew past our heads.

We waited for a moment in silence to see if someone was gonna crawl out or something. "Hello!" Uncle Theo shouted towards the hole in the Valkyrie's crown "We're from Claret Family Salvage, "he continued. "We towed you out of the desert and we're just looking to make sure you're alright yeah?" Another prolonged minute of no response before he passed me a torch. "Hey Estra, take a look inside, Goddess knows I'm too fat to squeeze in that hole," he added the last part with a chuckle.

I laughed in return before taking the light from him and sticking my head down in the gap. The inside wasn't particularly large, no bigger than my bunk honestly. I didn't see any panels or controls or even a chair to sit on. Which should have struck me as odd at the time but I guess I must have glossed over it. Half of the space was taken up by a large, bulbous looking sack of some sort. But I saw no people, living or otherwise. I pulled my head back out of the hole. "Get that chain over here, and some drop lights. I'm going down in there."

Five minutes later cousin Martine and I were inside the crown, a few drop lights hung on the walls.

"So... where is the pilot?" Martine asked.

"You're the mech fanboy," I replied. "You tell me."

"I dunno man, there's no controls or anything in here," He said. "What's this thing?" He pointed at the sack.

It was attached to the ceiling and part of the back wall of the crown, up close I could see a reinforced, rubbery green texture to it that almost looked like it was... sweating?

"Condensation maybe?" Martine asks, gesturing to the wet sheen of it.

I reached up to run my hand across it and a small zap of static arced from my fingers to the sack, and the whole thing suddenly convulsed violently.

"Fuck!" Martine shouted as we both jumped back. "Goddess, what the fuck is that?"

I had a hunch and I didn't like it. Nerves twisted in my stomach as I stepped towards it. I raised my torch up and after a moment's hesitation I pressed the bezzle into the rubbery material, the whole thing lit up like a sickly green lamp and I gasped in horror as I made out the humanoid shadow inside it. Without thinking I pulled the knife off my harness and drove it into the material as shallowly as I could before running it across the bag. As soon as it opened this viscous gel, thicker than oil poured out all over the floor, followed immediately by a mass of cables and a mostly naked human body.

"Estra what the fuck??" Martine shouted again.

"Get the doctors!" I shouted up to the uncles before kneeling next to the body. "Martine help me get these cables untangled from them."

He knelt down on the other side and started tracing the various tube with his hands, trying to get them loose. I put the fact that they looked borderline emaciated out of my mind while I started looking over the only thing resembling a piece of clothing or armor which was the visorless, full helmet fully incasing their head, with more cables coming out of it, I could see some fasteners on the side of it and went to go undo them before Martine spoke up again. "Estra," he said shakily, a pale horror in his voice. "Look..."

I looked over to where he was holding his light to see one of the cables he'd traced and where it ran straight into the pilot's spine. "What the fuck..." I mumbled looking at the series of other connectors coming off the length of their boney spine. I quickly began looking over the pilot before I noticed something on their arm. I pulled my light over it to see a tattoo in bold back lettering.

VALKYRIE CORE MODULE NO. 7723

"Martine..." I said feeling sick. "It's not a pilot..."

"What do you mean they're not a pilot?!?" He shouted, equal parts fear and confusion.

"It's part of the machine," I said following the cables up into the bag and straight into the machinery of the mech beyond that. I looked him in the eyes. "The Empire turned people into computers to run their war machines..."

[ducksido]

hey so how do you think Lilia, Azul, Epel and Riddle would deal with meeting a reader in the kitchen of their dorm. Their reader is a chaotic ninja chef human. Like has you questioning if they even exist and then these boys randomly meet them in the kitchen of their dorm. First time it’s normal and reader leaves with the thing they just made. Blink and they gone. Second time, they walk in on a frightening sight of reader wearing a helmet and holding a blow torch and it’s activated. Reader seems to be doing something with food. The process looks chaotic but it looks amazing when reader puts the torch down. The boys manage to catch reader before they do their disappearing act. (Bonus if Epel ever shows his apple carving skills and the reader is like “you’d be really good at cake decorating”.

(If its not to your standards tell me and i'll do it again)

🦇LILIA VANROUGE🦇

First Encounter: Lilia walks into the Diasomnia kitchen at night, expecting to grab some bat-shaped cookies for a midnight snack, only to see Y/N casually whisking something in a bowl. He tilts his head, intrigued, but before he can say anything, they just poof—gone. The only sign they were ever there is the lingering scent of something delicious. Lilia chuckles. “Oh-ho~ How delightful! A mischievous spirit, perhaps?”

Second Encounter: Lilia walks in again, expecting another fleeting visit. Instead, he is met with Y/N wearing a full helmet and brandishing a blow torch like they’re about to wage culinary warfare. Flames dance across the surface of a crème brûlée (or whatever creation they’re working on), casting eerie shadows. Rather than be disturbed, Lilia claps his hands. “Now THIS is how you cook! What an artful display of chaos!”

He catches them just before they vanish, appearing right behind them like a wraith. “No need to run off, dear chef~! Why not stay for a taste test?” He’s absolutely fascinated by their methods and would love to swap chaotic cooking tips.

🐙AZUL ASHENGROTTO🐙

First Encounter: Azul strolls into the Monstro Lounge kitchen to check on his stock, only to see someone expertly filleting a fish with ninja precision. The knife work is too good. Before he can demand who they are or what kind of agreement they have with his employees, Y/N finishes their dish, plates it beautifully, and then vanishes. Azul freezes. Did he imagine that? …No, the fish is gone.

He calls Floyd and Jade. “Did we hire a new chef?” They don’t know who he’s talking about. Azul is disturbed.

Second Encounter: This time, Azul enters cautiously. And what does he see? Y/N in a full helmet, armed with a blow torch, roasting something with deadly precision. Azul nearly drops his clipboard.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Making a caramel glaze.”

The process is pure madness, but when they set the torch down, the dish looks like it came from a five-star restaurant. Azul is torn between admiration and absolute horror. Before they disappear, he grabs their wrist. “Oh, no. You’re not getting away this time! Do you have any idea how valuable you’d be to my business?!” He’s already drafting up a contract.

🍎EPEL FELMIER🍎

First Encounter: Epel sneaks into the Pomefiore kitchen, hoping to make some apple desserts before Vil catches him. Instead, he finds Y/N casually tossing ingredients into a bowl, flipping a pan like it’s second nature. He watches, intrigued, but the moment he blinks—they’re gone. He checks the counter. There’s a perfectly made pastry.

“...What in tarnation?” He eats it. It’s perfect. He’s now both impressed and weirded out.

Second Encounter: Epel opens the kitchen door and immediately regrets it. Y/N, decked out in a helmet, wielding a lit blow torch like some kind of culinary demon, is creating something otherworldly. Epel instinctively takes a step back.

“...Y’know what? I ain’t even gonna ask.”

But when Y/N finally notices him and sees his apple that he was carving their eyes sparkle. “You’d be really good at cake decorating.”

“Huh?”

Suddenly, he’s getting an in-depth lesson on piping techniques and sugar work. He was not expecting this when he walked in, but he lowkey enjoys it.

🌹RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS🌹

First Encounter: Riddle walks into the Heartslabyul kitchen for tea, only to find Y/N moving around faster than Cater with a viral trend. They chop, mix, and cook with an alarming speed, only to disappear the second Riddle blinks. He stands there, gripping his teacup, completely baffled.

“...Who was that?” Trey shrugs. Cater takes a photo.

Second Encounter: Riddle enters the kitchen again and immediately sees something that nearly makes him faint. Y/N, in a helmet, torching something in his kitchen. HIS kitchen. WITH FIRE.

“WHAT IN THE QUEEN’S NAME—”

Y/N calmly sets the torch down. The dessert looks immaculate. Riddle sputters, trying to decide whether to scold them for unsafe cooking practices or praise them for their technique. Before they disappear, he orders, “STOP RIGHT THERE.”

Cue a very formal interrogation about their qualifications and kitchen habits. If they’re going to be here, they need to follow the rules! (Spoiler: They do not.)

[sarahisslytherin]

on the kingsroad.

cregan stark x reader

summary: you try not to let your feelings for lord stark show as you travel to king's landing together.

contains: forced proximity, fluff.

a/n: there was only one bed!!

word count: 1.2k

You struggled to keep your heavy eyes open as your mare clopped down the dirt road. You trotted alongside Cregan, whose gaze was now fixed on the inn that grew closer with each passing moment. “Almost there, my Lady.” The young lord of Winterfell addressed you gently. He was as weary as you were, and longed just as much for the warmth of a bed. You tugged feebly on the fur lining your cloak as you neared the inn. It had been a few days on the Kingsroad in the company of Cregan Stark. 

You both had business to attend to down in King’s Landing and the noble lord deemed it necessary that you be accompanied. Though you were merely a lady of his court, you had never been able to deny the part of you that longed for something more than polite manners from Cregan. The look in his icy blue eyes as he strode down the halls of Winterfell had put you in a trance more times than you cared to admit. Equally culpable for this were the stolen glances during feasts, the electricity you felt at his touch when he would help you out of a carriage. These small moments provided you with enough warmth to survive the longest of winters. 

Soon enough, you were at the inn’s doors. Cregan dismounted first before aiding you as you did the same, his strong, leather-covered hands holding your weight as your boots hit the snowy ground. You thanked him for the help as he led the way inside. The innkeeper marveled at the sight of him. Tall, wide, commanding; a young wolf.

“Forgive me, Lord Stark.” the man stuttered. “But there are simply not enough rooms left to accommodate both yourself and the young lady.” At this, Cregan looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze. Something in your expression must have given away that you didn’t mind sharing chambers for the night, because he swiftly turned to the innkeeper and paid for the remaining room.

You tried to suppress the churning feeling in your stomach at the thought of such proximity to Cregan, thankful you could blame the pink hue of your cheeks on the biting northern cold. You followed Cregan up the stairs, the wooden boards creaking under his steps. The hallway was lit by torches, the warm light leading you to your chambers. “After you.” Cregan bowed his head ever so slightly as you stepped into the room, the stone and wooden walls encapsulating the heat from the fireplace. 

“Gods, how I’ve longed for the comfort of a bed.” you chuckled as you shrugged off your furs, leaving you in your gown. You felt Cregan’s heavy gaze as you undid your simple braid and let your hair cascade down your shoulders. “You must know your company has been a great comfort to me, Lord Stark.” you confessed, offering him a sheepish smile as your eyes met his. He too was in the process of removing his cloak, his thinner garments capturing your attention more than could be deemed fitting of a proper young lady. 

“I am glad to hear it. I must admit that when I heard you would be traveling to the capital on your own, I couldn’t help but worry for your safety. I shall stay close to you at King’s Landing as well. It is truly a viper’s nest, no place for an innocent lady.”

“My Lord, you underestimate me.” you smirked as you stood up from your place by the crackling fire. “Surely the vicious men of King’s Landing cannot be much worse than the brutes back home.”

Cregan laughed at that, a good hearty laugh. “Is your opinion of Northmen truly so low?”

You felt heat begin to creep into your face once again. “I- I meant no offense, my Lord. The men I speak of are nothing like you.” You were too nervous to be sure, but you were quite certain it was a look of amusement now on Cregan’s face.

“Are they not? I am a man of the North, born and raised. What could possibly save me from your damning opinion?” he teased, but you sensed he truly wished to hear the answer.

“Well,” you sighed as you fiddled with tendrils of your hair, “They are not nearly as handsome, and not one of them has ever made me laugh the way your jests have. And they are unkind, inhumane. They regard me as no more than an object, something to be enjoyed as one enjoys a feast. But you-” you cut yourself off, looking up to meet Cregan’s gaze. The look in his eyes was soft, hopeful even. 

“But I?” he insisted.

“But you are kind. Not only to me, but to your people. You are a rare man of honor, true honor. A man I feel safe with.” you finally said. If Cregan was moved by your confession he tried his best not to show it, his gaze fixed on the ground as if lost in thought. You decided to make yourself busy with the fur covers on the bed. Cregan stood up to help. 

“My Lady, please have the bed.” he said, his voice scratchy from the cool winter air. “I will arrange my furs on the floor.” Your eyes widened at that, your hand reaching up to clutch your heart incredulously.

“Nonsense, I cannot allow you to sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly fine bed large enough for the two of us!” 

Cregan made an effort to suppress his smile, but it was not enough. “Are you absolutely sure? I only wish for you to be comfortable.” he insisted.

“Certainly.” you assured him, allowing your hand to rest gently on his chest. You tried not to focus on the beat of his heart beneath your icy palm. He wasted no time in taking it in his own hands and bringing it to his lips, the gesture awakening butterflies in your stomach. 

You gently stepped away to your side of the bed, slipping in and doing your best to stay on the edge of the bed. You felt the mattress dip where Cregan did the same on the other end. You ensured you were both back to back with room to spare between you. You tried to drown out the thoughts you were having about the Lord of Winterfell as you drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until the first rays of dawn began to pour into the chambers that your eyes began to flutter. You were so accustomed to sleeping alone, you didn’t know what to make of the presence you sensed so close to you. Only then did the memories of last night come back to you, and you looked down to your abdomen to find Cregan Stark’s large paw of a hand resting there. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of his breath hit the back of your neck. He had pulled you flush against him in his sleep, and it seemed you had done little in protest. The butterflies in your stomach returned as you let your eyes close again and leaned into Lord Stark’s embrace, impatient to continue your journey on the Kingsroad.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kindgomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever

[cursedfallingmoon]

Bring Honor to Us All || Yan GB Mulan x GN Reader

Characters: Ping

Summary: An awkward boy who goes to war for and with you

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness

A/n: I finally finished it oml!!!

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan GB Mulan who so badly wants to be seen as a man. He dresses like one, and he tries his best to act like one. His family doesn't seem to notice it. Well, anyone other than his grandmother. She seems to understand. And then there's you. His best friend. Who he's known since you two were infants. You make him feel like the man he truly he is.

Yan GB Mulan who is upset that he has to go through the match making process. Not only does he have to dress so feminine, he has to act like the perfect bride. Ping couldn’t bring himself to even think of that. He had a plan to marry you, no matter what. He dreaded the days leading up to it. However, he still worked hard to remember “The Final Admonition”. Ping's fear of disappointing his family drove him. He tries so hard to keep it together as he’s dressed. His only solace was you being there. In moments where he’s alone, Ping clings to you and begs for comfort. All your words are of reassurance. You constantly remind him that even if he looks like this, like a woman, you see him no different. That even in such attire, he isn’t any less of a man. He has to leave you reluctantly with his mother. Before he leaves, his grandmother gives him a lucky cricket.

Yan GB Mulan who messes up majorly with the scary matchmaker because the lucky cricket got free from the cage. He ran out of the building in tears. He didn’t mean to mess up. He tried so hard. He was panicked that his father would think less of him. That you would think less of him. Once Ping had made it back home, he broke down in tears. He wandered around his family’s estate as he rummaged around his thoughts. He ended up in the ancestral temple. In the reflection of one of the plaques, Ping wiped off the makeup. He finally saw himself. He sat under a cherry blossom tree, where his father had joined him. His father tried his best to bring some comfort to him.

Yan GB Mulan who is ripped from his sadness from the sounds of horses. A declaration was being made that seemed to rouse all the villagers. The emperor’s advisor was giving a call to war. Ping was watching from behind the large stone wall. He witnessed his father being handed a scroll. His stomach dropped. He wasn’t going to let this happen. Ping jumped off the wall and ran into the crowd. He gave his piece of mind to the advisor and shared his concerns to his father. They weren’t received well. The royal advisor simply sneered at Ping. The royal advisor couldn’t understand the audacity of Ping. After the advisor had left, Ping’s mind wandered to you. His only solace. Like always. He ran his way to you and shared his worries. You were always there to listen. It was then that he learned that some of your family got the same message.

Yan GB Mulan who decided that night to take his father’s place in the war. He uses this as a chance to cut his hair and bind his chest. In the reflection of his father’s sword, he finally saw himself. At least who he was meant to be. He feels like himself. In the rain, he rides off to the camps with his father’s sword in his hands and with his horse. What he didn’t realize was that you were watching him ride through the night. It didn’t take much mental work to figure out what Ping was up to. You followed him through the night on foot and with the help of kind cart riders.

Yan GB Mulan who tried to hype himself up to join the other soldiers. He was also working on asking his voice. He was startled out of his skin when a booming voice took over the secluded area. The area seemed to be lit up with a torch. Ping was thusly introduced to Mushu, his family guardian. Or so Mushu claimed. Ping thought Mushu was a lizard at first. Mushu offered Ping help which he took. Once Mushu helped hype Ping up, he was ready. As he was walking through the campsite, and Mushu offered some not so sound advice, Ping caused a huge mess in the campground. Not only that, but the other soldiers were pissed at him.

Yan GB Mulan who’s anxiety flared up even more as the general confronts him. The question he wasn’t prepared for. The general had asked his name. He was fumbling. Mushu starts to rapid fire names. Each one he mumbled made the General even more upset. Ping. He’ll go with Ping. Ping is shocked when the General points someone out to him. The General was gesturing to you. You were sitting so perfectly in the chaos. You weren’t meant to be here. Not only that but you were being used as a god example. Why did he feel so betrayed?

Yan GB Mulan who was incredibly embarrassed that he causes the rest of the soldiers to clean up. He kept his head down, but bumped into you. You tumbled down, which triggered his quick reaction. He brought his hand down and quickly helped you up. Ping was cautious about the amount of time he was holding your hand. Or how long he was staring at you. You gave hm your name, and he tried to act like he didn’t know you. He wanted to ask you a million questions. But he bit his tongue.

Yan GB Mulan who got a late start the next day. He was awoken by Mushu with a hearty warrior breakfast. Atleast, that's what Mushu called it. When Ping was told the troops already left, he bolted out of the tent. He scrambled to put his shoes on. As he ran, the first thought in his head is you. His pace quickened. Once he made it, he lined up next to you. Two other men were next to him. Ling and Yao.

Yan GB Mulan who stood at attention next to you as the General greets all of you. Ping became anxious. His hands itched to hold yours. He was pulled out of his thoughts when everyone took a step back, other than Yao. You and Ping watched as the General shot an arrow to the top of a wooden pillar. The General instructed Yao to climb the pillar to retrieve the arrow. The catch was, everyone needed to wear golden weights.

Yan GB Mulan who watched all the other soldiers fail to retrieve the arrow. He fails too, but his focus was on you. He felt so much wrry when you had to climb the poll. Ping bit his knuckles while you made it more than half way up. The moment you start falling, he ran to catch you. He doesn’t care about the stareson him. He only cares about the stares on you. He wants to shield you from them. He also hates that you’re the best soldier. Ping doesn’t understand it. He resents you for it. He wants you back home. He wants to be the one protecting you.

Yan GB Mulan who tried his best to perfect all the training practices but with no success. Ping fell everytime and caused the other soldiers to slow down. He felt like a burden. This was not what he wanted. Luckily, he had you to help him up everytime. Mushu watches from afar with Cri-kee. The dragon can’t help but joke about the heart eyes the boy had whenever he looked at you. His failures, however, make it to the General.

Yan GB Mulan who is met with the General one night. The General had Ping's horse. This wasn't a good sign. He was told to leave. Ping couldn't leave. He needed to prove himself. Not as a man, but to show that he's capable of being independent. Mot importantly, he doesn't want to leave you. So he found the weights, and climbed up the wooden pillar. He made it as the sun rose. He was greeted with cheers. Your cheering was the clearest to his ears.

Yan GB Mulan who snuck awat one night to bathe. Mushu was talking over him, which he grew used to. Ping had a towel wrapped around him to hide what he was. More specifically, what he didn’t want to be. It was stupid, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Once in the lake, he had Mushu stand watch. Three men, Chien Po, Yao, and Ling, came running by and jumped into the lake. Mushu followed, and before any got to close to Ping, Mushu bit one of them. You made it into the lake last. It was just you and Ping alone. He kept his distance. His face was a bright red. How could he handle being naked in a lake with you? It was torture.

Yan GB Mulan who was now marching into battle with all the other soldiers. And you. He became anxious when Ling started to talk about women. More specifically, women that the soldiers were into. He gets asked about his type. What was he supposed to say? You? No! That would give him away! And it wasn’t something he was ready to confess to you. When he was going to confess to you, it would be beautiful. Not marching into death. Ping took to long to answer to you’re asked about your ideal partner. He wanted to push everyone away from you. He can’t handle your answer. What if you say something that he isn’t?

Yan GB Mulan who is relieved you don't get a chance to answer the question. The interruption, however, was saddening. The troops walked into a burned down village. There were no remnants of life left. Ping’s face fell. He reached out to grab your hand. He didn’t want you to see such a thing. As the troup walked treacherously through, Ping found a child’s doll. He touched it gently. The doll seemed well loved. He noticed your hand wasn’t holding his anymore, so he looked over at you. You were in tears. You didn’t make a sound, but the tears flowed down your face. Ping wanted to protect you from the sight. It hurt him even more to see you like this. Before the troops had to continue up the snowy mountain, Ping had placed the child’s doll onto the floor. He propped it up on the sword the General had placed for his dead father.

Yan GB Mulan who was attacked by the huns. Everyone scrambled to run away in the deep snow. They weren’t prepared for the ambush. In his quick thinking, Ping grabbed Mushu and shoved the General away from the firework. He aimed it at the top of the snow mountain, not at the Huns. Ping used Mushu as a lighter and the firework fizzled before it shot up into the sky. There was a silent anxious pause. A rumble then took over. An avalanche! Ping shot up and started to run before the snow had toppled him over. In his escape, Ping searches for you frantically. He catches a glimpse of you about to fall off the cliff. He was not going to let that happen. Chien Po, Yao, and Ling quickly follow to help you both up.

Yan GB Mulan who lifted you in his arms. He’s so grateful to the gods and his ancestors that you were okay. That you were alive. He nearly forgot the pain in his abdomen. When you brought it up, he panicked. The General had called for a doctor as the rest waited anxiously. You couldn’t handle the suspense. You wanted to make sure Ping was okay. That he was going to survive. Once the doctor was finished, they informed the General of who Ping really was. What he really was. It broke Ping’s heart as he heard all his friends leave him behind. All because of something he couldn’t control being. Of what body parts he had. All for a body that wasn’t his. Mushu, Cri-Kee, and his horse were all that was left. The only ones who didn’t abandon him. At least, that’s what he thought.

Yan GB Mulan who left the tent to go back home. He wasn’t watching where he was walking. His foot had ended up hitting something. He looked down and saw that you had stayed. You stayed. He nudged you gently to awake you. When you were conscious, you jumped up and tackled Ping into a hug. You told him that you knew of his true identity the whole time. In fact, you had followed him here to make sure he would be okay. He teared up at the sentiment. You really were his. Ping took this chance to introduce you to Mushu too.

Yan GB Mulan who rushes after the troop that had left him. You were riding with him on the back of his horse. You held onto Mushu and Cri-Kee. You four managed to make it. The parade going on made it difficult to gain the attention of the surrounding people. It was so frustrating when everyone ignored Ping. They even ignored you. Ping quickly hopped off his horse. He tried to prevent you from following, but you practically threw yourself off his horse. He sighed, however, he grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd. He made sure no one touched you as you two rushed to try and find the General. The two of you tried to get someone to listen.

Yan GB Mulan who ends up getting help from you, Chien Po, Yao, and Ling. He dresses the four of you up in women’s clothing and traditional makeup as disguises. He paused when he saw you. You looked so beautiful. Granted, you looked amazing in anything you wore. The love sick gaze he held was short-lived. Yao had punched his arm to get his attention back to the task at hand. The five of you set out, and succeeded to get inside the castle. The General had joined in too. Ping, you, and the other three men had fought off the hun soldiers, allowing the General to go after the emperor. Once all the huns were knocked out, you five ran down the hall to where the emperor had been taken. Ping distracted Shan Yu so Chien Po could take the emperor away.

Yan GB Mulan who is urged to cut the rope to prevent Shan Yu to follow after the emperor. He also pulls you away to keep you safe. You were not going to be one of Shan Yu’s victims. Not when you’ve gotten this far. While he has you against his chest, Ping shows Shan Yu who he really is. Or, well, who Shan Yu thinks he is. When Shan Yu became violent, you were quick to react. You pulled Ping behind you as you started to run. As you run, you tell Mushu and Cri-Kee to go to the fireworks. As they rush off, you and Ping end up on the roof. When the dragon gives you the signal, you have Ping duck. Mushu had the fireworks aimed at Shan Yu. Ping took the commotion as a distraction. He grabbed you once more to pull you off the roof. He uses himself to cushion your landing. It was finally over. Ping had saved China.

Yan GB Mulan who was awarded with the sword, the jian, for his honor. He had also been titled an honorary prince. He was truly recognized as a man. A man with true honor. As even more recognition from the emperor, Ping was also given a medallion with a dragon carved on it. He couldn't help the tight hug that followed. The both of you cried in so much joy as you held onto each other. He was finally able to go home. And he had gained the confidence to face his father.

Yan GB Mulan who brings his father the medallion that resembled his honor. Ping presented the jian to his father as well. He took this chance to finally explain to his father who he truly was. What he was. Ping was appalled that his father's response was to hug him. He embraced it. Ping wanted to cry. When he felt you hugging him from behind, the dam broke. He was so happy. Ping was finally home. He was finally him.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Property of @secretcoralgarden! Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[platinumshawnn]

Bound by Blood and Fire — benjicot blackwood x tully!oc

prologue

masterlist

forward

A/N: new fixation of the month, another skinny yt boy! I haven’t written an actual series in a few years, so here I am giving it another try. Also I know he didn’t turn out to be Benjicot, but I’m sticking with fancast!Kieran as Benjicot. Benjicot is aged up to 21, character is 18 — semi-proofread and updated (the character was changed into a random oc) characters physical description is not detailed or referenced to.

You can now read the next part here: i (posted July 17 2024)

Synopsis: Amidst rising tensions and a looming war, House of Tully seeks to strengthens its strongest alliances by proposal a marriage between Benjicot Blackwood, heir to Raventree, and Elmo Tully’s only daughter.

Content Warning(s): mentions of violence, no detailed depictions however. Era related content and sexism.

Word count: 1.8k

“It is done then?”

Elmo looked across the table at his son, his heir, as Kermit Tully nodded his head — his head bowing forward in response to his father’s words, “It is.” He simply replied, head lifting then to make eye contact with his father’s.

The pair stood in silence as the weight of his admission lingered in the air, the flames from the torches that lit the room casting a dim glow over the face of the father and his son who could have been mistaken for a mirrored image of himself if not for his own having grown aged throughout the years — Elmo’s gaze darted to the walls of their meeting room after a small, meek nod that hinted towards his reservations; gaze scanning the walls built of solid stone that stretched upwards in seemingly endless slabs, high enough that it almost seemed as though they were attempting to reach up high enough to the Gods themselves. The air was damp, caused by the ongoing storm outside having plagued the House of Tully for days — it made for a mess keeping guard amidst the growing tension between the houses, further enabled by the ongoing dispute regarding the throne.

“I do wonder, father,” Kermit suddenly spoke again, interrupting his father’s silence of contemplation as his grip on the hilt of his holstered sword at his hip readjusted, the glazed over look in his father’s eyes briefly clearing as he once more looked at him. “If I might…do you think she is ready? I do not wish to rush her into this, this is not a decision I think should be lightly considered…”

“Worry not, Kermit.” Elmo snapped, the anxiety in his chest heavy again at the thought of his daughter, shrouded by guilt that he was forced to swallow down. Pride. He released his grip on the ledge of the table made of weirwood and wrung his hands as he paused, his brow twitching and inhaling deeply, “We have given her more than enough time — all she’s had is time. It is her turn to perform her duty, just as we all must.”

Kermit’s gaze shifted, blinking a couple of times as he nodded, processing his words. There was a silence that fell over them both once more, the tension in the air almost suffocatingly thick and crushing him under the weight of it as Kermit thinks of his sister. Thinks of how she will react when he tells her she’s to be married. Thinks of his sweet sister, caught in the middle of the politics of the realm — treated as nothing more than a pawn and broodmare; his sweet sister who cried when he brought back his first deer after a hunt when he was twelve, big eyes welled with tears and nearly inconsolable. He recalled the days it took for her to speak to him again after that, promising to never subject her to such a sight again and do his best to sneak any catch in through the back gates. He thinks of the soft, sensitive girl who picked flowers and was fascinated by bugs growing up, much to their mother’s dismay — so curious and quiet, innocent and in her own world. Kermit wished he could have understood what it was like to see the world through her eyes sometimes, to see what it was that she did. Sometimes.

He almost felt dirty at the realization of just who — what — she would be marrying and that he was subjecting his sister to a lifelong commitment to a man who used to throw mud on her dresses; teased her until she cried as a girl, and then teased her more because she was a girl. That he was giving her hand away so quickly without giving her even a chance to agree or defend herself or choose — but what choice did a woman have in these matters? Kermit swallowed thickly, exhaling as his hands clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword.

Kermit did not have many friends beyond these walls that were not of his own blood. Benjicot Blackwood was one of the very few exceptions — introduced as children, both heirs to their respective houses, Kermit naturally found himself in the other’s presence more often than not; learning the ways of running households, trailing behind their fathers. Hells, they had trained together for several years and even fought alongside one another, too, on a few occasions after run-ins with Brackens. Benjicot had become a close friend of his over the many years they’d known each other, coming to know him as soft spoken, if not even shy and quiet and still, even knowing him and his character as well as he did — the decision still had not been an easy one. But he had mulled over the many available lords and their heirs across the realm, thoroughly considering each of them and whether they were suitable for his sister’s hand. No matter how close and good of an ally any of them were, how loyal they were, how fierce and powerful….Kermit simply could not consider any of them to be good enough for his dear sister. Benjicot hadn’t even been his idea. It had been his father’s idea, in fact — he was one of the first names that had been put forward when the discussion had first come up, but he had shot it down just as quickly.

He pictured the thought of his sister, sweet and soft spoken, scared of anything violent and bloody beside Benjicot — wild, crazy, and psychotic Benjicot whose eyes were wild in battle, bordering feral in simple fights that did not require getting bloody, pummeling men bloody regardless until they were nearly unrecognizable. The thought made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Do you think…” Kermit began to say, cutting himself short as he did not know what he intended to ask. He blinked twice, glancing down briefly before looking back up to where his father had turned his head to stare at him. They were both quiet, staring back at one another, as if they both seemed to be sharing the same thought.

Elmo looked back out the windows, looking over the fields that were soaked and flooded by the rains, seeming to know what his son intended to say, “She will understand.” He stated, taking a few steps closer towards the window’s ledge, looking up at the sky that was covered by dark, full clouds that hid nearly any and all traces of sunlight. “You should be off to speak to her, let her know of the news. Lord Samwell will be expecting you in the coming days. I am entrusting you to oversee finalizing everything. Oscar and I will follow.” He explained, back turned to him still as he spoke.

Kermit was not one typically to shy away from making difficult choices, but this one still felt like he was ripping out a part of himself. Like he had betrayed his sister somehow.

He nodded abruptly, bowing his head before taking his leave with a pivot-step and striding out of the room quickly, the doors swinging open before slamming shut behind him with the force of the guards stood outside. With a curt nod to the guards, Kermit turned and began wandering through the halls; absentmindedly guiding his way to the library, his hands clenched so hard his knuckles had turned white and jaw clenched as if that would steady him.

The doors to the library could have otherwise been a comforting sight on any other day, given that he had spent several days there in his youth, studying and teasing his sister into their adolescence over her obsession to memorize the history books front-to-back rather than being outside with the girls her age; knowing this was her safe haven amongst the busy day-to-day hustle of their house. However, it appeared daunting that particular day as he paused outside them, hand stretched out and ready to push inside as he listened for any noise; hoping that he would be met instead with silence that he could use as an excuse to walk away and claim that she wasn’t there — that he did not know where she was at that moment. Give him any excuse not to tell her…not yet. But instead he was met by the soft shuffle of shoes and melodic humming, his eyes closing with a furrow of his eyebrows as his shoulders slumped, sighing out a breath.

It took him a moment to compose himself — straighten his shoulders and stand upright, taking one final breath before he pushed open the door to find his sister; her head turning immediately to look at him, eyes wide and one hand up to her mouth as she picked at her bottom lip, frozen as though he had startled her, her humming ceased as her other hand held an open book, “Brother?” She suddenly asked, voice small amongst the room.

“Sister.” He greeted, voice low. “We must speak — join me.”

—

“Winds are coming from the east today.” Benjicot said, looking out from the entrance of his tent before letting the flap drop closed, shielding him and his cousins from the cool winds that had picked up over the past few hours with the storm; clothes still clinging to his limbs from the rain that had caught him on his way back to camp, his hair soaked as it stuck to his forehead in stringy strands that dripped into his eyes. He used the damp backside of his hand to wipe a bead of water from his eyes as he knelt close to the map, staying far enough back so as to not damage it by getting it wet as he’d yet to change into something dry. “We can use that to our advantage if this rain slows down.”

“Any animal with even half a brain across the realm has gone into hiding by now, there’s nothing left out there.” Emrys said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he sat back on his elbows, earning a pointed stare from his cousin. “Let us just call it a day for now. We will continue in the morrow — rest, warm up.” He pleaded.

“Don’t be foolish, Emrys.” Benjicot snapped while standing back up, circling the tent towards his cousin and deliberately nudging him with his rain soaked boot. “A true hunter does not just give up so easily, dear cousin. Though, I imagine this isn’t how you would rather spend your day — rather instead spend it with your whores, yes?” Benjicot mocked, the men letting out a chorus of laughter that was muffled by the sound of heavy rainfall.

“Regardless, we still might —”

Benjicot’s words were interrupted as a guard arrived, calling out to him as he entered the tent where the group of men were meeting, “Ser,” the guard said, stopping abruptly by the entrance and holding out a scroll. “A Raven has just arrived for you.” He announced, the scroll dampened by the rain as Benjicot retrieved it from his grasp, eyes narrowing slightly at the stoic male who stood still as a statue; awaiting his next orders. His gaze dropped to the scroll in his hands, the seal recognized as that of his house and glancing up at the guard once more before cracking the wax seal to unravel the paper, his gaze scanning its contents. In his peripheral vision, he could see his cousins sit up, Emrys to his right.

“Who is it from?” Emrys asked.

Benjicot blinked, jaw clenching as he lowered the scroll, sighing, “My father.” He replied. “He’s instructed us to return to Raventree at once. I’m to be married apparently.” He explained, voice just above a mutter as he crumpled up the paper and shoved it into a pocket.

[pearlesscentt]

kitchen floor picnic

it was finals week, or hell week as you’d affectionately call it, and due to the onslaught of deadlines, everything was in shambles. good thing, you have your boyfriend to weather that cyclone with you.

mingyu x reader, college!au, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k words

in contrast to science, sound traveled faster than light—literally at that very moment.

when MINGYU opened the door to your studio apartment, it was pitch black, and all he could hear were your soft snores and the whirring of the dinky air conditioner. he started walking in blindly, worried about waking you up if he dared to turn on the lights, so he just clutched the paper bag full of groceries and hoped for the best.

his luck seemed to run out within a few seconds, as it wasn't long before he tripped over something hard, making him yelp in pain.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath. when the noise registered, his head immediately snapped in your direction, and he sighed in relief when you remained fast asleep. he kneeled down to clutch the toe he had stubbed and reached for his phone. he fumbled with it before eventually clicking on the torch, realizing he tripped over your bicycle helmet lying haphazardly in the hallway.

she must've tossed it on the floor from exhaustion, he thought, picking it up to hang it on one of the hooks on the wall.

it was finals week, or hell week as you’d affectionately call it. “i might not survive,” you told him at the beginning of the week during an afternoon at the library. “in our next life, remind me never to study architecture. this is torture, i will never put myself through this again,” you groaned dramatically.

he reassured you of everything you were capable of because he knew by now that the theatrics were just a part of your process for acing your classes. if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were an exceptional student. that was why he could only chuckle as you spent the next fifteen minutes complaining about your program while also perfectly tracing the pencil marks with ease on the plan you were working on.

which brings MINGYU to his current predicament: he was standing in the middle of your apartment, unsure of what to do next. he turned on the downlights from the kitchen. it was still dark enough to not disturb your sleep, while being bright enough for him to see the current state of your place.

it was a mess—even the word felt like an understatement. it was a category 5 tropical cyclone. there were different drawing and drafting materials scattered everywhere, papers of different sizes covering every flat surface he could see, an unfinished scale model perched on top of your desk, a pile of clothes on your unmade bed (indistinguishable whether clean or dirty), and a bunch of empty energy drink cans and instant ramen cups. lastly, there you were on your loveseat sofa, sleeping soundly in a fetal position because of the drawing tube and t-square at the far end of it.

beep, beep, beep.

he flinched at the sound, his gaze shifting to the phone on the coffee table as it lit up due to the alarm. power nap alarm, he knew immediately. you moved in your sleep, reaching to turn it off.

after a few moments, you sat up, stretching your arms out. MINGYU watched, he couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you looked with your messy hair. soon enough, your eyes darted in his direction.

“hi,” he whispered with a little wave.

you furrowed your brows and blinked at him. it felt like an eternity before you spoke up, “shit, i’m hallucinating.”

“uh, i’m really here, babe.”

“gyu?”

“mhm.”

“gyu!” your face lit up in recognition. standing up to make your way to him, you were quick but careful not to step on any of the clutter on the floor. “you’re really here.”

he opened his arms for you and gave you a warm hug. he rested his cheek on the top of your head as you melted into the embrace.

“why are you here?” you asked against his chest.

“for an intervention,” he joked before kissing your forehead. “i’m here to make you real food.”

judging by the state of your place, you had been living off instant ramen, any caffeinated drink you could find, and whatever was on sale in the nearby convenience store. your stomach growled for some real food.

“go do your thing while i cook,” he said with a laugh.

nodding, you settled on the floor by the coffee table and grabbed a technical pen nearby. you drew some finishing touches on the plan, continuing where you left off earlier before your nap.

it took about 30 minutes, using the shuffling sounds from the kitchen as your white noise while you were laser-focused on your task at hand.

“babe, time for dinner,” he called out softly.

when you looked over, he was holding two plates of what looked like katsu curry and rice with a proud smile on his face. suddenly, you wondered: where are we gonna eat?

noticing the change in your expression, he said, “hey, it’s fine, we could just eat here.”

“eat where?” you asked, walking over to him. even the small island in the kitchen was full of papers, you didn't even know which ones were important anymore; while the counter space between the single burner stove and the sink was not enough for both of you to eat comfortably.

“here.”

you raised your eyebrows at him while he placed both plates on the counter. then, he went toward the round dining table and retrieved two placemats from underneath a different set of papers.

“let’s eat here,” he said, placing the placemats on the floor, “like a picnic.”

frozen in place, you stood in front of him, still confused.

“don’t worry, i mopped earlier while i was waiting for this to simmer.” he took the plates again and motioned for you to sit. “we have picnics on the grass at the park and on the sand at the beach all the time, what difference does your kitchen floor make?”

with nothing to counter his argument, you obliged. you sat down cross-legged and used the counter behind you as a backrest. MINGYU followed suit, placing your respective plates on the placemats in front of you.

“are you sure you have time for this?”

“for sharing a meal with you? always.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to place a kiss on your temple. “besides, i've already finished all my exams earlier.”

you raised your eyebrows, thinking about the days; it was just last week when you shared schedules with each other to stay informed in case the workload made it hard to give updates.

“i’m sorry, i forgot your schedule,” you sighed in defeat. your eyes misty as you turned to face him, a pang of guilt starting to consume you. “you had mine memorized, but i couldn’t even recall yours.”

“hey, it's okay, i understand.”

“but still…”

“but still—nothing.” he shook his head to assure you, “we’re not here to keep score, baby. we're here to take care of each other. now, let’s eat, hm?”

as you took the first bite, warmth radiated through your body. sure, the food was good, but it was MINGYU’s steadfast presence that calmed your storms. the onslaught of deadlines and exams was eased by his unwavering love and care.

in the dim light of the kitchen, amidst the scattered papers and unfinished projects, you felt a profound sense of peace. not because he made the cyclone disappear, but because he was there to weather it with you.

author's note: just a little something bc i'm so soft for mingyu's acts of service and bc i missed writing here :(

svt masterlist | navigation ─��� reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2024 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[novaursa]

The Night They Came

- Summary: The night is dark and full of terrors.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: This short story describes events of B&C, but if assassins succeeded in their mission.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for blood, gore and death)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround

Maps are spread across the table, their edges curling slightly under the weight of time and hurried hands. Aemond stands tall, clad in black leather and polished silver armor that glints under the torchlight. His brow is furrowed, one eye sharp and calculating as it scans the map.

Ser Criston Cole leans beside him, pointing at the parchment with a gauntleted hand.

“The Velaryons will not take kindly to the shattering of their blockade. If they move toward the capital, we’ll—”

“Then we’ll burn their ships before they ever touch sail,” Aemond cuts in curtly, his voice low, yet it resonates through the chamber like a blade dragged across stone.

Criston glances at him, faint approval in his eyes. “Swift, but it’ll require Vhagar to—”

The sound splits the air like a knife to the gut—a scream.

Your scream.

It echoes through the stone halls of the Red Keep, piercing and raw, like an animal caught in a trap. Aemond’s head snaps up, his body going rigid. The blood drains from his face. Before he can even move, a second cry follows—one equally chilling, but distinctly Alicent’s.

“The nursery,” Criston breathes.

Aemond is already moving, his long legs carrying him toward the door in a flash of black and silver. Criston is close behind, his sword clinking faintly against his armor as they race through the halls.

The corridors seem impossibly long, the screams echoing in Aemond’s ears like the tolling of a death bell. The flicker of torches blurs as he runs, but your voice—high-pitched and frantic—grows closer.

“No! Please, no!”

Aemond reaches the nursery door and shoves it open with enough force that it slams against the wall.

The sight that meets him stops him cold.

The room is dimly lit by a single, swaying lantern, the shadows distorted and crawling across the walls. The air is heavy—sickly. The scent of blood is faint but unmistakable.

You are on the floor, trembling, your nightgown soaked and streaked with scarlet. One hand is outstretched as though to reach for something—or someone. Your other hand clutches a dagger, its tip still dripping crimson.

The cradle in the center of the room—the one where your and Aemond’s youngest slept—lies overturned, blood soaking the blankets. Your other children huddle in the corner of the room, their small faces streaked with tears. Their frightened cries pierce the silence: a daughter clinging to her younger brother, shielding his face from the scene before them.

Alicent is being held back by two guards near the door. Her face is pale and stricken with terror, her sobs strangled as she calls out names she cannot see.

“Aegor,” she gasps, collapsing against the guards. “Aegor…”

Aemond’s heart stops when his eye falls on the bloodied cradle and the small form that is missing from it.

“Y/N!” Aemond shouts, his voice hoarse.

You whip your head toward him, your tear-streaked face wide-eyed and frantic.

“They were here—they were—” you choke on your words, pointing toward the shadows, where faint footprints of blood trail out of the room.

Aemond drops to your side, gripping your shoulders tightly. “Who, Y/N? Who was here?”

“Two men,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “The rat-catcher and a man with knives—they came.” Your sobs wrack your body, and Aemond feels your trembling beneath his hands. “They—they killed Aegor.” Your voice breaks again. “They took his body, Aemond. They took him!”

The blood in Aemond’s veins runs cold, his mind struggling to process your words.

“And the children?” he asks, though dread already curls like a snake in his gut.

You don’t answer.

From the corner of the room, a tiny voice trembles, “Papa?”

Your daughter’s voice is so small, so full of terror that it shatters what little composure Aemond holds. He turns his head sharply, seeing your other children—your eldest daughter clutching her brother close, their faces pale and wet with tears.

“Father,” your daughter whimpers again, as though the very presence of her father might save her from this nightmare.

Aemond forces himself to speak, though his voice trembles. “It’s all right. I’m here. I’m here.”

“They—they said they’d come back,” the girl whispers faintly, clutching her brother tighter. “They said we would see the same fate.”

A cold chill runs down Aemond’s spine, but he stands, his face a mask of cold fury. Criston, who has just entered behind him, takes in the carnage with a grim expression.

“Aegor,” Aemond murmurs, his son’s name a growl in his throat. He looks to you, still slumped against the floor. “What did they do, Y/N? Tell me!”

“They—” You swallow thickly, unable to look at him. “They made me choose.”

The silence in the nursery is suffocating.

“What?” Criston’s voice cuts in, low and full of disbelief.

Your tear-filled gaze finally meets Aemond’s. “They made me choose which child to spare. I—I couldn’t—” A sob breaks free, your body curling into itself. “I couldn’t choose, Aemond! I tried, I tried to fight them…”

The rage that coils within Aemond’s chest is volcanic. His fists clench so tightly his knuckles whiten, and his jaw works as he grits his teeth.

“They killed him?” Criston says softly, as if testing the very words.

“They killed Aegor,” Alicent wails, collapsing to her knees. “And they took him…”

Aemond’s single violet eye burns, his pupil small with unrestrained fury. He moves toward the overturned cradle, the blood-streaked blankets tangled and empty.

“I’ll have their heads,” he snarls, his voice ice-cold, deadly. “Every man, every servant who aided them, every soul who dared let them into this keep—I will burn them alive.”

Criston steps forward. “Prince Aemond—”

“Find them,” Aemond spits, turning on his heel and glaring at Criston with such ferocity the Lord Commander takes a step back. “Find them before the day’s end, or I will see the entirety of Flea Bottom reduced to ash.”

Your faint whimper draws his attention again. Aemond’s fury softens—only slightly—as he kneels beside you once more. He cups your tear-streaked face in his hands, tilting it up to meet his gaze.

“I swear to you,” he says, voice low and hard, “they will pay for this. These men will beg for death before I am done with them.

From behind him, the soft sobs of your children echo, their cries quiet but haunting.

You clutch his arms, your blood-slicked fingers staining his black sleeves. “They took our son, Aemond…”

Aemond presses his forehead to yours, his eye shut tight as if to block out the world around him.

“Then I will bring him back,” he promises, though he knows the words are hollow.

And as the cries of the Red Keep continue to echo around you, you feel the walls of your world crumble.

[twinklejones]

drunk on you, literally

synopsis park sunghoon is the leader of a rebellion and he kidnapped the king's daughter, you, and, as expected of a leader, he is very serious, controlled and reliable, but what no one knows is how weak sunghoon is against alcohol, so so what could happen if he eats a sweet with a slightly different taste?

starring enhypen's park sunghoon genres just fluff warnings sunghoon is a big loser in this one (my favorite); cute down bad wrapped around yn's finger, honestly; english is not my first language sorry for any mistakes

wc 990

it's my first time writing something and posting so, hope you like it!

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the feast was lively, with the members of the rebellion laughing and swapping stories around a long makeshift table. simple yet flavorful dishes filled the air with a welcoming aroma, and the soft candlelight made everything seem more intimate. everyone was finally enjoying peace after winning a battle against the king's soldiers.

you had your reasons for hating sunghoon and the whole rebellion situation against your father and his antics, but over time you've learned that not everything is as it seems...

park sunghoon seemed the most relaxed person in the place, something that didn’t go unnoticed by you

he ate some sweets from a wood platter that was passed hand to hand a while ago, but he didn’t notice someone yelling "watch out for these, the liquor is strong" in the midst of all the talk, laughter and music

you didn't think much of it

minutes later, you noticed something weird with his posture

— sunghoon, are you okay? — you asked, patting his shoulder lightly

— yes, your highness — he replied, but his voice was slightly slurred and weak. you observed him, his body slowly swaying from side to side. it really was a strong liquor he ate, but did he really got tipsy just from that tiny amount?!

he suddenly stood up, startling you and some people around, and started walking towards his room, but his steps were less steady than usual. in a second you also stood up, apologizing for leaving so early to no one in particular

— let’s go to your room. you need to rest — you said softly, placing your hand in his arm and back, trying not to attract too much attention.

— no, i’m fine — sunghoon murmured, but contrary to his words he didn't resist being guided out of the hall

in the middle of the torch-lit corridor, sunghoon stumbled over his own feet, but managed to balance himself by leaning on the wall behind you, not realizing that he pressed your body between him and the wall in the process.

sunghoon could feel his eyes getting heavier and heavier. he wanted to sleep so badly...

you chuckled. even though you could feel the heat radiating from sunghoon's strong, tall body, his behavior was very amusing. it wasn't every day that you got to see the rebellion leader behave in such a... vulnerable way. rosy cheeks, brows furrowed and a very bad sense of direction. very sweet

after a few minutes trying to balance a large part of sunghoon's big body on yours, you managed to reach his room.

— did you know those sweets had alcohol in them? — you asked as you untied his boot as he sat on the bed

sunghoon looked at you, very confused eyes with a playful spark that was very rare to see.

his lips formed a small smile, showing his sharp canines for a brief moment

it was like a blow to the stomach. you didn't know that the man in front of you, the one who kidnapped you and made you see all the barbarity of the kingdom you father ruled, could smile so breathtakingly beautiful

— maybe? — he replied, lifting an eyebrow

nothing but silence and admiration came out of you. has your heart just skipped a beat?

sunghoon scratched the back of his neck and started watching as you lowered your head and began to untie his boots. the alcohol unfortunately let your red ears go unnoticed, but there are evils that come to the good; if sunghoon had been sober and had witnessed this reaction from you, the rebellion wouldn't have a leader in the morning

you finished untying his boots and asked him t lay down, to which he readily complied, but as soon as you looked up to him, you noticed dazed eyes roaming your face

— you seem hot

you got closer, lightly touching his forehead

you couldn't see how sunghoon gripped the bed sheet as if it was the last hope of world peace, trying to control his own emotions. sunghoon looked away

— i'm... i'm fine, yn — he murmured, but his strained voice betrayed him. you tried to not let the butterflies explode inside of you because of your name slipping through his glazed... beautiful... lips, but this task proved impossible

sunghoon fiddled with the ring on his finger, spinning it frantically while trying to stay sane. you snorted

— maybe spinning this ring on your finger is making you even more nervous, want to take it off? — you said, trying to dissipate the tension that has formed between you two (didn't do a good job, apparently)

sunghoon chuckled softly, but remained silent for a few seconds

— it’s not the ring, yn.

he looked up to you once again, beautiful, desperate, eyes... you stopped breathing for a moment (along with your heart)

— it's you.

sunghoon's confession took you by surprise, more than the attacks by your own father's soldiers in the middle of the night against the rebels.

he was so readily admitting that your presence affected him as much as his affected yours. so all that tension you felt so many times... wasn't it just you? oh, you needed fresh air

meanwhile sunghoon took a few seconds to realize that he had admitted his own feelings for you. he was done for — the silence was so loud

safe to say that you were both a blushing mess; you got up and rushed towards the door, face red and hot as ever, as you jabbered "good night, I'm goint to head back, maybe they'll need me to clean up the hall, haha, what a night" while sunghoon hid under the covers, mumbling "yes, of course, thanks, god bless you" and other nonsenses

before you could close the door, though, sunghoon peeked out from under the blanket and you caught a glimpse of his always pale face, now a deep shade of red

— good night... my princess

neither of you slept very well that night.

[dionysusmybeloved]

ORPHIC HYMN #52

TO LORD DIONYSUS

I call upon you, blessed, many-named,

frenzied Bacchos,

bull-horned, Nysian, Lysios,

Lenaios, conceived in fire.

Nourished in the thigh, Liknites,

you lead torch-lit processions,

you lead them in the night, O filleted,

O thyrsos-shaking Eubouleus.

Your nature three-fold, your rites ineffable,

O secret offspring of Zeus,

primeval, Erikepaios,

father and son of the gods,

you take raw flesh, and sceptered you lead us

into the madness of revel and dance,

into the frenzy of triennial feasts

that bestow calm on us.

You burst forth from the earth in a blaze . . .

O son of two mothers,

horned and clad in fawn skin, you roam the mountains,

O lord worshipped in annual feasts.

Paian of the golden spear,

nursling, decked with grapes,

Bassaros, exulting in ivy,

followed by many maidens . . .

joyous and all-abounding, come,

O blessed one, to the initiates.

(trans. by Apostolos Athanassakis)

[salaimoi]

cw: implied suicide, concubine reader, grieving sukuna.

As the final hour approached and the evening shadows crept across the horizon, the air became heavy with an unspoken sense of impending finality. The room was swathed in red, lit by feeble flickering torches that cast erratic shadows on the walls, welcoming an eerie ambience in their path. The atmosphere in the room grew thicker, the scent of incense mingling with the faint but distinct whiff of death in a sickeningly sweet blend.

Ryomen Sukuna’s red eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, betraying no emotion; this was not unusual. As the King of Curses, he had no need for emotions. He had never been one to care for anything or anyone, and his cold demeanor was a testament to that. But that belief was shattered the moment he stepped foot into your final resting place, forcing Sukuna to halt in place as he stared down at your body in a mix of perplexity and irritation.

“Had one too many drinks, hmm?” Sukuna rolled his eyes half annoyed, body dipping slightly so his hand could latch onto your wrist tightly. He tugged your arm upwards in an attempt to force you to stand up, still under the naive impression that you were just passed out drunk. His brows furrowed in suspicion the moment he noticed how you hung limp like a rag doll — head falling back on your shoulders while he held onto you. 

"Quit playing dead, woman. I’m not in the mood for your theatrics right now." Sukuna growled, his patience running thin with you.

The only response he received in return was a blood-curdling silence.

"Concubine?" He murmured, his tone low and raspy as panic subtly overtook the stoic man’s features in a matter of seconds. He desperately grabbed at your frame, shaking it once more in a futile attempt to force you to open your eyes — to make you say something, but it was all fruitless effort. The only thing he could do was stare blankly at you, as if his mind refused to process what was going on. “I see.” He mutters under his breath, slowly squatting before you as he continues holding onto your arm. His breath momentarily hitched in his throat as he scooped your static body in his arms, refusing to let go despite the coldness of your skin; there was no warmth whatsoever left in your body. The only thing left was regret and an immense pain as he realized this was the last chance he'd ever have to see you. To talk to you. 

"Is it an apology you’re looking for?” He finally whispered, choking back on the heavy lump of grief and heartache lodged in the back of his throat.  “I'm sorry, okay?" 

The desperation in his voice was clear as he repeated himself over and over. He knew he was grasping at straws, his apology and pleas falling on deaf ears — ears that were no longer attached to a living body. Whatever words he spoke were only met with a soul-killing silence. The body of the concubine he never dared admit to actually needing, was no longer a body; it was a corpse. And even so, he didn't feel like letting go — as if his refusal to do so could somehow force you back to life. 

His panic spread like wildfire the longer he held you, because everything he'd come to know about you, every moment shared together, all of it was no more. Your body remained unresponsive and dull, eyes shut as if you were asleep or in some kind of trance. Even the way the light from the ceiling bounced off your soft and pale skin, to the curve of your lips as he remembered them from days ago, was all surreal. But he refused to accept that this was what it looked like — that his concubine was gone just like that. 

He had never felt this way before — not even with any of his previous concubines. Every other one, he would have left to their own devices, not caring in the slightest about what became of them. But this concubine... this one was different. She made him feel things he'd spent his entire life avoiding. Sukuna didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid; he was afraid of accepting the harsh, cruel reality that you were no longer here. If he held onto you tightly enough, or if he refused to let you go, maybe, just maybe, he thought, this could somehow be a nightmare — just one big cruel, sick joke. And when he wakes up, everything will be back to normal. Back to the way things used to be between the two of you.

But despite his optimistic outlook, even he couldn’t forgo the harsh, bitter reality that laid just outside the boundaries of his dreams. 

"Concubine," he murmured, his voice barely even a whisper. "I don't want to," trembling from the trepidation he felt, his voice dropped to a whimper.

"I can’t do this without you.” 

His words came out weak and pathetic, but they still held true nonetheless. There was so much more he wanted to say to you during your final moments in his arms, but he couldn't bring himself to continue. All throughout his life, Sukuna was afraid of being, well, human. The reality was he was just as weak as you, but it took losing you in order to discover this bitter truth about himself. Emotions equaled weakness to him, so he never demonstrated an ounce of care for your existence. He never married, afraid his enemies would come after the only person he truly treasured in this miserable life. And yet, his beloved fled his side on her own accord.

Was he really that unlovable? Was the afterlife pleasant in all the ways his presence wasn’t? 

He hated himself for ever treating you like he had, for not telling you how much he loved you while your eyes still fluttered at the sight of him, but it was too late now. You were gone. Even if he couldn’t confirm it, the heavens must be delighted to finally have a real angel in their mix. All he could wish for now was that it enveloped you in the ways he never did. 

Maybe in another life he’ll tell you how much he loved your irritating defiance. The way you didn’t fear him the same way others did. The way you let your presence be known when you entered a room. The way you voiced thoughts others didn’t dare voice. 

Maybe in another life he’ll allow himself to be human for a change. 

For you.  

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈.ᐟ only adding this because of @luvvsoft ‘s response when beta reading LOL

i’m so sorry that he only addresses reader as concubine even in her final moments, i just really loatheeeee using y/n ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა ⠀

[thealtoduck]

Well, fuck me… on a magic altar

Garfield Logan x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut, bottom!Reader, top!Gar, anal sex, virgininty loss, missionary position, magic sex ritual, unprotected sex, friends with benefits (… kinda)…

Part 1 & Part 2…

Summary: Rachel needs your and Gar’s help to seal away a demon but the process of doing it is rather heated…

——

You were working your regular shift in Madame Xanadu’s parlor, it was only 2 hours left until closing. There wasn’t a lot of business that day so you sat behind the reception reading a magazine. The bell over the door rang making you look up as Rachel and Gar came over towards you.

”Hey guys, what’s up?” you said casually, closing your magazine. Rachel looked awkwardly towards Gar for help but Gar looked just as lost on what to do. ”Y/n, uhm- there is no way to make this easy so i’m just gonna say it” Rachel warned.

”Y/n, i need you to have sex with Gar” Rachel blurted out.

”Get out of my parlor! What kind of establishment do you think we’re running here?” you stated shocked.

”Y/n, you don’t understand, i need you and Gar to have sex on a magic altar to seal away a demon” Rachel tried.

”I’m sorry, what did you just say…?” you asked still just as confused.

”Okay, Y/n, listen! There is this magic evil demon who was sealed away in a magic prison 5000 years ago in a magic temple. Every 100 years you need to do a ritual to keep him locked in, the ritual includes having virgin get their virginty taken on the altar inside the magic temple, that’s why we need you” Rachel explained fully.

You turned to Gar and said seriously ”Bro… you told her i’m a virgin… not cool”. ”Sorry, it was urgent” Gar apologised. ”Y/n focus! Are you in or not?” Rachel questioned in a panic, banging her fist down on the counter. ”Will you at least buy me dinner first?” you asked. Rachel looked like she was about to kill you before Gar cut in saying ”Of course we will”.

”Okay sick, let’s go” you said and picked up your jacket. You then walked in to Madame Xanadu’s fortune telling room, where she was shuffling a deck of cards with magic and said ”Hey, Madame Xanadu?”. ”Yes, dear?” she said looking up from her cards.

”I’m gonna have to leave early, Rachel and Gar are taking me to somekind of temple so Gar can can take my virginity to keep a demon imprisoned” you explained. Madame Xanadu didn’t flinch at the statement, only uttering a small ”Has it already been a hundered years, huh? Wow, time flies”. Before saying a quick ”Alright have fun”.

The three of you left stopping at a fast food place to get you and Gar some food. You three then made your way in to an alley where Rachel opened a portal that you all went through. On the other side you stepped out to a magnificent stone temple.

Intricate carvings were all along the walls and pillars. Torches were spread along the walls, tons of candles had been lit around the big stone altar table which was waiting for you and Gar. ”There’s the altar, when you’re ready just get up on it and do your thing” Rachel explained drawing a chalk circle around it.

”I guess i’ll just leave you to it then, good luck” Rachel said and re-opened the portal and went through, once it closed you and Gar were left alone. It didn’t hit you how awkward the whole thing was until now, when Rachel was there it had felt like you were doing your part in saving the world.

Now that it was just you and Gar the whole thing felt a lot more personal. Sure, you and Gar had been flirty and had cuddled a little in the past but you weren’t boyfriends or even dating. The two of you sat down on the temple floor in silence and ate your food.

”How are you feeling?” Gar asked caringly nudging your leg. You took a sip from your soda and answered ”Just trying to absorb the whole thing, i’m gonna be completely honest this is not how i imagined losing my virginity”.

Gar let out a small chuckle. ”Are you fine with you know… it being with me?” he asked. ”Yeah, i’d rather it be with someone i know and trust” you answered making Gar smile and say ”I promise i’ll try to make it special for you”. The two of you finished your fast food dinner and stood up.

”So… where do we begin…?” you asked awkwardly. ”How about…” Gar started and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, the action made your cheeks heat up. Gar then led you in to the chalk circle Rachel had drawn out and you sat down on the edge of the stone altar.

You took of your jacket and threw it aside, Gar stood himself between your spead legs and you and Gar started shyly making out, Gar letting you get a feel for it. His lips were delicate to yours making a quiet moan escape your mouth. Gar ran his hands on your thighs massaging them lightly.

You put your arms around his neck as your make out grew more heated. Once you pulled your lips apart, Gar looked at you with loving eyes. He wanted to make you feel good so you could remember it with joy despite the circumstances.

”Can you help me undress?” you asked him he nodded and got down on one knee. He started by taking off your shoes and socks, he then took of his own, he then stood up again. You unbuttoned your pants and Gar helped you pull them down your legs.

Gar then removed his hoodie and t-shirt revealing his slim athletic physique. You put your fingers against his chest trailing them lightly over his skin. You moved further up on the altar as Gar took of his own pants leaving him in his boxers.

The two of you sat on the altar making out, Gar lifted your shirt and helped you remove it. You had expected the big temple room to feel cold and drafty to your skin, but the many lit candles around the altar and spread through the room made it warm and cozy almost like being next to a fire place.

Gar helped you lay down on the altar which felt chilly at first touch to your back making you let out a small gasp, Gar noticed and picked up his shirt laying it down under you as a small blanket. ”Is that better?” he asked. ”Yeah” you said.

Gar positioned himself on top of you as you made out in your underwear, your bulges rubbing softly against each other for the first time. Both your cocks had grown hard in anticipation what was about to happen between the two of you.

You broke your lips from Gar and whispered ”I’m ready”. Gar nodded and uttered a small ”Okay”. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your boxers and Gar gently pulled them down, revealing your untouched manhood to him. Once your boxers were fully of he threw them aside.

He then tugged of his own underwear revealing his hung dick. Gar climbed off the altar and rumaged through his bag eventually picking up a bottle of lube. He then came back, he sat on his knees and spread your legs revealing your virgin ass for him, your face heated up as he did.

Gar noticed you had grown a bit nervous and he looked you in the eyes. ”You’re so beautiful” he said genuinely he then leaned down placing a kiss on your upper chest. He trailed kisses down your body until he eventually placed one on your dick making it twitch in excitement.

”I gonna stretch you out now, okay?” he let you know. You gave him an approving nodd and he poured some lube in his hand spreading it on his finger. He lifted your legs revealing your tight virgin hole to him, then his first finger made contact making you let out a light gasp as his lube slicked finger penetrated you.

The new feeling made you let out quiet moan. Gar studied your face for signs of discomfort but you were taking it so well. ”You’re doing so good, Y/n” he praised lightly as his finger was all the way inside you. He slowly moved his finger in and out of you until he felt he could add another finger.

He kept stretching you out until he had added a third finger and worked you open. He then removed his fingers from your ass making sure to pull out slowly. ”Are you ready?” Gar asked softly. ”Yeah” you confirmed taking his hand yours and placing a kiss on it.

Gar then spread lube over his cock and aligned himself with your hole and slowly started pushing in to your virgin heat. You gripped Gar’s arm, squeezing it as Gar slowly filled your ass with his cock. ”Your taking me so well Y/n” Gar whispered encouragingly.

Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he gave you time to adjust to him as he placed kisses on your cheek and whispered praises in your ear. After a while you told him ”You can start moving”. ”Okay” Gar nodded and slowly started pulling out before softly pushing back in.

Gar was completely stuffed inside but the previous pain had turned to pleasure as Gar rhythmically moved in and out of your tightness. You and Gar started hungrily making out once more, both your moans in pleasure echoing through the temple room

Your shared body heat created beads of sweat on your foreheads and gave your naked bodies a light sheen in the candle light. The carvings along the walls had started glowing white, probably a sign that the magic ritual had begun.

You wondered if the demon could see you get deflowered for the purpose of sealing him away. ”Gar, fuck your big” you moaned as his gentle thrusts filled you up. ”That’s right baby” Gar said with a cocky smile.

You hands pressed against Gar’s pecs, this action made Gar release a loud moan. He was in ecstasy as your tight virgin hole was squeezed around his large cock. ”Such a perfect ass” Gar praised, he wanted to bring you to the same kind of pleasure he felt.

He did his best to thrust deeper in to you without going to hard wanting to stay gentle for your first time. It worked as his length grazed against your prostate making you let out a sudden moan.

His sudden action made your orgasm quickly approach making you brain go foggy from . ”Gar, I’m gonna- I’m gonn-!” you moaned but couldn’t finish as you shot ropes of cum over yourself and Gar’s abs. The sight of your cum covered self made Gar wanna go wild.

He did is best to contain the beast from erupting from within him and taking you like a common bitch. You and Gar kissed and he said gently ”I’m close”. As he plowed himself in to you the feeling of your walls clenching around him drove him over the edge.

With one last pump in your now loose virgin hole, Gar groaned loudly as his cock erupted filling you with his warm load, his seed staining your innocence forever. Both of you panted heavily as your hot and sweaty bodies tangeled together letting you both catch your breath.

The glowing white walls created a large flash of white signifying the rituals completion. Your body felt shaky as you tried to move, Gar let you sit on the edge of the altar as he helped you get dressed again. ”Did it feel good?” he wondered.

”Yeah” you answered dreamily not having fully snapped back to reality yet, this made Gar smile. ”Was- Was i good?” you found yourself asking. Gar cupped your cheeks and said ”You were perfect” and he placed a loving kiss on your lips.

Once you both were fully dressed Rachel soon emerged through a portal to pick you up. She understandingly didn’t ask a lot more questions than ”Did it go well?” and a ”Feeling okay?” directed towards you. She opened a portal that led to right outside your apartment building and you all walked through.

Gar then turned to Rachel saying ”Can we have a moment?”. Rachel nodded understandingly and gave the two of you some privacy. ”Look i know this whole thing wasn’t ideal so i wanted to ask you out on real date to you know make up for it” Gar said.

You smirked and said jokingly ”Really? This was all i could have possibly wanted” making Gar chuckle. You continued ”I will however take you up on that date offer, how about sometime next week?”. Gar nodded and said ”Sure, i’ll text you later with a date”. ”Okay” you nodded and you pulled each other in to a hug. Gar gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before letting go.

You waved him and Rachel goodbye as they entered another portal taking them home. You then on shaky legs made your way in to your apartment building, dreaming about you future date with Gar.