#Ashe would take a deep breath and start SCREAMING

[moominpopzz]

Ashe would’ve had the most egregious platonic crush on Cantrip EVER btw,,, they deserved to meet

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Two

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, blood and injury, nurse!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings of fear, anxiety. Panic attack. Implied past abuse. Implied stalking. Deep breath.

There is blood in Johnny's eyes.

He comes to with a start, Price’s voice barking out an order, pressure and flame and blood all washing over him, pain erupting across every receptor in his brain like he’s being shredded alive. 

“Bloody hell, hold him steady.” 

It’s still Price, roaring over the chop-chop-chop of the helicopter blades, bloodied hands trying to keep pressure on the hole in his stomach, his side. 

It burns. Everything burns, his body feels like it’s on fire, bones turning to ash inside his skin, chest being torn apart by some invisible force. He can’t get enough air. There is something shoved inside his ribs, something heavy that’s weighing his lungs down, keeping him underwater, cinderblocks tied to his feet.

He tries to move, but he can’t. 

Gaz is strapping him down to a stretcher, he thinks, and when he ratchets a strap across his legs, Johnny screams in agony. 

“’m sorry mate, I’m sorry.” 

Where is Simon? There are faces here, but none of them are the one he needs. His LT. “W-where is Si?” He slurs, and Price frowns, leaning back over his face, calling his name. 

“Johnny, Johnny. Hold still. You’re on a medevac. We’re lifting you to base.” 

“Si-“ 

“Simon isn’t here, remember? Johnny, oi. Keep your eyes open, Sergeant.” Remember? Does he remember? He tries. Tries to place his partner’s face amongst the rubble, the blast, the screaming. 

Where is Simon?

Your coffee maker sputters to life in the silence of your apartment, churning out the dark, thick, life-giving liquid, and you can’t beat back the glare that fixes your face upwards towards your neighbors, the ones who are running a marathon in their apartment at three in the afternoon.

Seriously. Is there a herd of elephants up there? 

You can’t be too disappointed in them, you know. It is normal working hours. Normal daytime hours. You don’t expect your neighbors to accommodate or understand your schedule. Still, it would be nice if they were just a bit more considerate. 

It’s not the end of the world, regardless. You're up now, already started your day, crawled out of bed and opened the blackout curtains to stand in the afternoon sunlight that streams through your studio apartment. You flick open your laptop as sip your morning coffee, logging into your banking app with quick efficiency, eyes roving over lists of numbers, figures adding and subtracting in your head. You’re so close to being able to move forward with the plan, the light at the end of the tunnel growing stronger and stronger, glowing bright with hope, something that once felt so impossible, so far away. You're going to make it. 

It’s a hike to the train.

You’re fortunate that you only have to take one, no longer having to change once, or twice, in the middle of your commute like you used to, but now you’re walking at least twelve blocks to get there, each way.

It makes you feel very exposed.

You keep your headphones in, hood of your jacket over your head, and move within throngs of people during the trek, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead, posture tilted just enough that you can watch the ground but still see in your peripheral. You don’t relax until you make it onto the platform, and even then, your head is on a swivel as you wait for the train to arrive, and you can melt into the mix of others. Seen, but not noticed. 

Old habits die hard. 

You swipe your card to proceed through the turnstile, cool metal sliding against your hands when you push forward onto the platform, settling against a pylon as you wait, flicking through the news with half interest.

The hair on the back of your neck rises.

Someone is watching you. 

Your skin goes cold, ice beneath your jacket, and your lungs stutter with short breaths. Logically, you know you’re wrong. The faces that wait alongside you are not focused on anything but themselves, too busy staring at their own devices, tablets, readers, phones. A woman fidgets with a stroller, a man wearing headphones spits some corporate nonsense out loud, obnoxiously. You’ve already looked them over, too many times. He’s not here.

You lean against the tile, rocking your back into the grimy wall, fingers clutching against the edge of your phone. He’s not here. You’re safe. The dark of the tunnel mocks you, laughs with his voice, its circular opening growing teeth like his, ready to devour you, drag you back to hell, swallow you whole and keep you there.

He's not here. You’re safe. He doesn’t know where you are. Deep breath. 

You breathe the words deep, counting the time of your inhales and exhales until the brakes of the train are squeaking and squealing to a stop, doors opening with a hiss. Everyone moves in tandem, an amoeba inching towards the same goal, get off, get on, and you go with it, pressing inside and shuffling towards the back, angling your body outwards, molded into a corner so tight your shoulders touch the walls of the train.

Deep breath. 

“Hey, you’re early!” The nurse you’re relieving smiles brightly at you, blonde hair pulled high in a scrunchie, stickers all over her badge and ID.

“Yeah, wanted to get caught up on some admin stuff but I’ve got it, if you want to…” you motion with your head, the universal signal of ‘if you want to leave’ without saying it out loud, lest you jinx it, and the place goes to chaos in the next five minutes. She nods eagerly, launching into a run-down of your beds, who’s stable, who’s sedated, who’s still on a vent. “-and two sixty-eight is about to come down from the PACU.” Your stomach clenches with anxiety, and you check your watch.

“They took him when I left this morning…”

“Yeah, I guess there was a complication. Had to re-open his chest, put in a new tube. Poor guy, he’s battered all to shit. Did you see the scans of his femur? It’s literally in pieces.” She sighs. “His partner is in the surgical waiting room, told him the next shift nurse would come find him when he could come back to the room.” Your anxiety heightens, and an alarm bell goes off in the back of your mind as you think about Simon, pacing back and forth upstairs, and Johnny, alone in the PACU, probably coming out sedation, terrified. What is wrong with you? 

“I hear those guys are like black ops or something.” Nia, the nurse who’s worked the last three rotations with you, comments over your shoulder as she drops her bag in the pit. You raise an eyebrow skeptically. Black ops? You shiver. “They air-lifted him from a military base that’s doesn’t even exist on a map. Cass and I checked.”

“Really?” The dayshifter perks up, interested, and you hold your hands out in caution.

“Okay, okay. Let’s not speculate.” You tap your number into the tablet, reading through charts and noting updates. A little green circle with an arrow through it blinks next to Johnny’s, signifying that he’s about to be moved. “Besides, he’s been through hell. Clearly. Let’s have a little, ya know. Respect?” They all cluck, rolling their eyes and groaning, but they shut up, and Nia gives you a little grin. You might not be the charge nurse, but you were the perma-night shifter on this floor, and the one with the most seniority in this moment. 

“Alright, well. You got this?” Dayshift asks, and you wave her off.

“Goodnight.”

“You’re the best. Bye ladies!”

Simon is easy to find. He’s wearing the exact same clothes from yesterday, black cloth mask still covering half his face, hoodie pulled up over his head. He looks less exhausted, but no less anxious, dark circles still present under his eyes, body language tense. He looks… scared.

He spots you just as easily, shooting to his feet when he sees you coming, hands clenched together in anticipation, and you motion to the chair, placing yourself next to him, turning slightly to ensure you’re giving him your undivided attention.

He shifts in the seat, legs spreading out against the stiff frame, and his knee bumps yours, warmth radiating beneath denim bleeding into your scrubs. If he notices or cares about the contact, he doesn't say anything, only blinks at you in anticipation. His head tilts before you start speaking, and your skin heats when you realize he’s looking you over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before pinning you in place with a focused scrutiny.

“Has anyone come to speak with you?” You ask, silently hoping that the surgeon actually did the last part of his job, and didn’t neglect the family member in waiting room, the one who’s holding their breath as every second ticks by.

Simon nods. “They said there was a complication with his lungs?”

“They had to plate his ribs. It will give the bleed in his chest a better chance at healing, help keep him stable. They also replaced his chest tube.” His brow furrows, and you pause. Maybe visualization will help. “Do you want to see?” You tap on the tablet, bringing up Johnny’s last imaging, scrolling through the pictures to show Simon what it looks like, pointing out the before and after CT of his chest, explaining the white vs grey spaces on the image. Simon studies it, taking the tablet in his hand, fingers tracing over the screen reverently, carefully, like he's touching Johnny himself. An ocean’s worth of emotions reflects in his gaze, despair, sadness, grief- all sitting just on the edge, nearly ready to spill over. Your heart skips a beat.

“Can I see him?”

“He’s coming down from the post-surgery unit now. I’ll have to get him resettled in his room, but I promise as soon as I can, I’ll come get you.” He twitches in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck before he huffs out something that sounds like ‘okay’, and you give him one more small smile with your ‘see you soon’.

Johnny is conscious when he comes up from the PACU, barely. His vitals look good, temperature, blood pressure, heart rate all in target ranges, and he’s due for another round of pain medication.

"Hey, Johnny." You smile down at him, sliding the lock on his bed in place and reattaching his leads carefully, gentle enough so you don't jostle him too much. 

"Hi, pretty girl." He slurs, and you chuckle, instinctively rolling your eyes before patting his good hand. 

“Came out of sedation fine, but he’s been a bit emotional.” The PACU nurse warns you, eyes soft with sympathy when she glances at him in the bed. “He’s asking for his partner, I think. Simon?”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” You scan the post op notes, hitting all the important things, logging his last vitals check so you can administer his meds. The incision in his chest has been reopened, and then closed, and his lower body is completely immobilized in the bed, his hip pinned, femur delicately pieced back together with a plethora of plates and screws, so many you think it’s probably more metal than bone now. “How are you feeling?" You ask, heart tugging a bit at the hopelessness in his eyes. “Ready to get some more sleep?” He groans a response, words jumbled together and cracking into a sob that has tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Si..”

“He’s not back yet.” You try to explain gently, grabbing an extra blanket to put over the scaffolding around his leg. “Once I get you settled, we’ll bring him up, okay?”

“H-hurts.” He cries, vibrant blue eyes finding yours, scared, and desperate. “It h-hurts.” He’s openly crying now, shoulders starting to shake, and the monitor chimes at you, registering an increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

“I know. I know it does.” You clean his port, tracking the uptick in numbers on the screen. “Hey, hey. Shhh, it’s okay.” You try to calm him as you flush the line, pushing the saline from the side of the bed. “You’re alright. We’re almost,” You administer the medication easily, counting in your head, replacing it with another saline before reattaching his fluids line, all of the motions so second nature that it allows you keep your focus on him. “there.”

You expect him to calm down. Most patients do, but his heart rate continues to tick upwards, and his respirations don’t decrease, lungs heaving against the fresh sutures in his chest. His hand, the good one, skates across your elbow and down your forearm to grab a hold of you, fingers gripped onto yours tightly, like he’s afraid you might let go.

“It’s alright, Johnny. You’re okay.” His eyes don’t leave your face, his own jaw slack, pain meds coursing through his system. He's frightened, big blue eyes wide and anxious, and you squeeze his hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. “Deep breath.” You see patients upset, in pain, all the time. It’s an everyday part of your job. Even the hand holding is a necessary, frequent part of your profession.

But with Johnny, something feels different.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, just try to relax. Take some long breaths- good. That’s good.” You soothe him, rubbing soft touches into his skin. His head is turned to where you’re standing next to the bed, chest still heaving, and he winces with each exhale. “It’s just the last of the sedation, it can make you a little out of sorts. The pain meds are going to kick in real soon.” You reach over, and press the call button, twice. You can feel the pressure, the burn of his attention, his unwillingness to look away from you, and you hum out the softest words you can find, encouraging him to take calm, deep breaths. 

When Nia appears, she frowns. “Everything alright?”

“Hey, yes. Could you do us a favor and go up to the surgical waiting room? Johnny’s partner Simon, is waiting to be told he can come down.” She looks from you to him, reading the situation just as you would if the roles were reversed.

“Got it.” She makes her exit, fast, and Johnny gulps, still staring up at you with bright, wet, blue eyes.

“See? She’s going to get him. Everything’s alright.” He nods, barely, starting to succumb to the medication, and you exhale, letting out some of the tension from the last few minutes.

Simon comes through the door in a whirlwind, and you immediately raise your free hand, palm out, to slow his hurried panic.

“He’s okay.” You point to where Johnny is still clutching onto you. “He was still in a fair amount of pain when he came down, and coming out of sedation can be disorientating. I think he panicked a little when he realized you weren’t here.” He nods silently, taking his place bedside, towering over both you and Johnny, leaning past you to brush his lips against Johnny's forehead in a sweet, smooth kiss. 

"I'm here, sweet boy." He murmurs, voice so low you barely catch it. You step back, pulling your grasp from Johnny's, but he tightens his fingers, grip stronger than you anticipated, and you stop mid step, glancing to his partner. “I got him.” Simon reaches for where the two of you are connected, sliding his own hand overtop yours, replacing the contact before holding Johnny's hand whole. He’s so careful, lowering himself into the chair, carefully holding onto Johnny until he’s seated, bringing his palm to his mask covered lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Si.”

“I’m here Johnny. Rest.”

“Ye weren’t there.” He croaks, and Simon’s eyes shutter with a long inhale.

“I know.”

“Ah needed-“ He loses the words, dazed in a swirl of semi-consciousness. “was scared.” Simon strokes some of the hair that’s in disarray away from his forehead, smoothing his thumb back and forth above his eyebrow.

“Shhh, everything’s alright now. I’m here.”

The chair in supply closet 2b knows you well. It’s an old thing, something pulled from a patient room once it was deemed too squeaky, and too uncomfortable, shoved in here to be discarded at some point in the future.

That was months ago.

Now, it sits in a dark little corner, plastic packages of disposable PPE and gowns littered on top of it in a heap, excess supply with no place to live. Everyone takes turns in it, shifting whatever it happens to be holding that day onto the ground and settling in for what some could call a break, brief moments that could last seconds or minutes, quick opportunities to get off your feet and most importantly, not have to speak or be spoken to, for an indeterminate amount of time.

This is usually where you hide when you need a second. When there’s a lull, and the pit is full of nurses, techs, students or whoever else may have downtime, talking and laughing together, building relationships, getting to know one another. Making friends. It's a small luxury at work, to have that time, those friendships. 

Luxuries someone who wants to be seen, but not noticed, not known, does not have.

You close your eyes, head tipped back against the chair.

It’s okay to be alone. You can do this. Deep breath. 

Your mind floats to two sixty-eight, to Simon and Johnny. What is it like, to be loved like that? To be so fiercely cared for? Johnny’s teary, blue eyes and Simon’s soft, loving regard for him makes your stomach flip. You didn’t even know love like that was real. The only taste of love you’ve ever had left ash in your mouth, poison in your veins, and deep, deep scars across your body and soul that you’ll never be free of.

Deep breath. 

Your work phone and the tablet both start to beep, a shrill noise that makes you wince, muscle memory of what it indicates making you leap from the chair.

The screen shows a red flashing symbol next to room two sixty-eight.

Johnny.

“He’s tachycardic.” You tell the tech who’s fumbling with the phone, firing off a rapid text message to the on-call for this floor. You hold Johnny’s forehead still with the heel of your hand, using a finger to flick open his eyelids one by one, flashing the pen light across his pupils. “Pupils are dilated, BP is elevated- no call him- call him right now. Do what I said, I don’t care what he told you.” You bark, glancing up at where Simon is frozen across the bed from you, grip so tight against the rail that you think it might break.

“Simon-“ He cuts you off, but you’re half paying attention to him, too busy checking the site of Johnny’s chest tube, and then moving onto the dressing on his lower abdomen, ensuring it doesn’t feel scalding to the touch.

“He was fine. He was just… sleepin' and then-“ You move around the bed, pulling the oxygen tube longer, replacing the cannula with a mask.  

“Simon, I need you to step out.” You press two buttons on the machine, ensuring it’s on high flow, door sliding open with Nia’s arrival.

“No.” His refusal is steadfast.

“Simon, hey.” He lurches closer to Johnny, and on instinct, you reach out and grab his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes are wild, bleak with anguish, and his chest heaves heavily, panic radiating from his massive form. “Listen to me, listen. I’m here. I’ve got him, alright? But there are about to be five other people in this room, and we can’t work if you’re in the way.” You speak firmly, clearly, trying to get your point across as the door opens again, and the on-call attending is standing on the other side. Simon glances from him, back to you, and you nod reassuringly, swallowing the lump in your throat that forms when he latches onto your own arm, squeezing it tight. “He’s in good hands.” You tell him, nodding to the tech that’s waiting to usher him towards the hallway. 

He keeps his eyes trained on Johnny, before they flick over to where you’re lowering the bed completely flat, free hand on his bicep, thumb rubbing a small semi-circle into his skin, just like you watched Simon do last night, and earlier today. He swallows, endless depths of desperation welling in his eyes, and you take a deep breath, imbuing your voice with all the strength you have.

“I’ve got him. I promise.”

[sunflowersteves]

when you're gone || j.m.

pairing || joel miller x f!reader

summary || Jackson, Wyoming was supposed to be a calm and quiet town. Joel wasn't so sure when he wakes up alone after another unbearable nightmare.

author's note || without @themarcusmoreno, this fic would not have been made so I thank ash a thousand times for enabling me into writing soft joel comfort with some filth!! and tbh, i think i have an addition to soft!joel so i hope you all enjoy (especially after that episode). also yes, i may have gotten the title from the cranberries song!!

warnings || nightmares, ptsd, apocalypse ptsd, pure disgusting fluff, hurt/comfort, joel needs a break so i'm giving him one, soft!joel, SMUT, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, [18+ only!!]

masterlist

In Wyoming, it was a quiet and peaceful night. The crickets chirped, and the cold icy wind blew against the logged cabins. Everyone in Jackson was under the cloudy haze of a tranquil slumber, and so were the trees as they gently swayed underneath the stars. 

In a quaint cabin, Joel was mumbling in his sleep. A dark shadow cast over him from the troubles of his active mind. His eyebrows furrowed in despair, and his cheeks were hot from the pain that shot through his chest. He could picture her. He could picture you. He could picture Ellie. A sharp cry and scream thwarted against his eardrums, and he panicked. 

His eyes snapped open in an instant, and his chest heaved at the alarm that spread across his chest and down to the pits of his stomach. He looked around the room—his eyes frantic. An old chair, a bookshelf, and a pile of clothes. 

A nightmare. Just a nightmare. 

He turned to look over at the silhouette of your form under the covers, but his heart froze once more as you weren’t even there. 

You were gone. 

It struck deep inside him—empty and sullen—as the questions started to roll over one another. Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you alive?

He didn’t waste any time by putting some pants over his boxers or taking his flannel. He just needed to run. The strong pads of his feet hit the floorboards, and he sauntered down the stairs. He had to find you. 

He needed to find you. 

The pure, hard feeling of desperation rose in his throat. His hands were shaking by his sides as he whipped around the archway that leads into the living room. His eyes scanned every crevice of the room—starting from the tall bookshelves and guitar stand that sat in the back corner. Then, he saw it. He saw the movement of a hand flipping over a page in a book. 

You.

He let out a big puff of air, the relief washing him over like a cold splash of water to his face. You were safe. You were okay. He could feel the panic rush out of his chest, and pure adoration sunk in between his heart and his lungs. Just you.

He watched, quietly, at the soft rise and fall of your chest. The hand that wasn’t holding the book in your lap was tapping gently on the edge of the sofa.

A lukewarm cup of tea, the one you most likely forgot from the riveting pages, sat on the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes rapidly scanned each individual page, and your lips pursed into a small smile. 

He could tell you were reading a Jane Austen novel. You always had the same expression when you were reading Pride & Prejudice, Emma, or Persuasion. Your left brow would always twitch when you got to a familiar scene that you had read a million times before. 

He suddenly could feel the warm breath of a calm mind take over his body. He felt like he could relax now. You’re here. You’re safe. You’re alive. 

As if you feel his soft stare, your eyes turn to his—your smile even larger than before. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, handsome?”

He doesn’t say anything. His mouth doesn’t even form a smile. He wasn’t sure he could. While his body relished in the feeling of relief, the whiplash of feelings that swirled around in his head was starting to get to him. 

“Joel?”

Your eyes turned cloudy with concern, and now his heart sank just a little. He didn’t want to make you feel worried. The last thing he wanted to do was open a deep wound in your chest like the one that settled in his. 

He quietly sat down next to you, arms pulling in your shoulders, so your back lay rested against his chest. You sat the book down on the coffee table right before making home into his arms.

He breathed in deep, familiar senses of your own musk and the spices you had been picking earlier that day. Rosemary, bay leaves, and parsley were your favorite plants in the garden that Ellie had asked you to build. 

You sat there for just a moment, knowing that he needed to take his time. Joel was never a man of words. He was silent and calculating, watching everyone and anything around him.

You were one of his soft spots over the years—you and Ellie—but his hardened heart still prevented him from allowing his deepest affections to shine through. So, when his thoughts came barrelling down on top of him, he needed the time to articulate them. You would always patiently wait for him, each and every time. 

“Had another nightmare.” He paused, noticing the small intake of your breath. He could tell that you felt bad for waking up in the middle of the night and not being there for him. “Woke up alone.” 

He chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to say, “woke up, and you weren’t there.” In truth, you weren’t, but he knew you had insomnia. He knew that he wasn’t the only one suffering under this roof from the dangerous, violent, and pure aching pain that the world had caused. 

“Joel—Baby—” God, you were too good for him. You were a badass throughout all of the years of fighting and violence, yet your heart shined brighter than ever, just for him and Ellie. 

He whispered just under his breath, “I had the same nightmare. I know you’re there. I know Ellie’s there. I know Sarah’s there—” He shakes his head. “—But I can never find you. Any of you.”

He can picture the frown that forms on your pretty, plump lips. It wasn’t your fault. You know that. You couldn’t have known, but the burning guilt in your chest wants to say otherwise. Your hand grabs onto his own, which is splayed across your abdomen, and you squeeze—making sure that he knew you were here. 

“I’ll never go anywhere, Joel. Not without you.”

A deep, crackling affection sprouted in his chest at your affirmation. He could almost smile—bright and pearly white. His worn heart thumped loudly against his chest, surely pumping loudly against your shoulder blade. 

“I know, darlin’. My brain is just funny sometimes.” His lips crack just a little at the snort he was able to pull from your nose. 

“Hell of a way to put it, Miller.”

After a couple of beats of silence, you bite your lip—contemplating whether you should act on what your brain was currently concocting. You knew that Joel wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night, and by default, you wouldn’t, either.

You could tell he was still lost in the faraway lands of his mind. His eyes were glossy and dazed. You knew he was, in no doubt, trying to unsee the darkest parts of his nightmares.

You decide to say fuck it, and you attempt to untangle Joel’s arms from yours. You hear a disapproving grunt from the man behind you, followed by another confused sound when you started to leave the couch.

“Darlin’, where are you—” His question dies on his tongue, though, all while you sink down onto your knees. His eyes are blown wide—dark pupils dilating under the soft glow of the eucalyptus candle you started to burn earlier. 

You give your best innocent smile. By the way his lips open just a smidge, you knew your idea was a good one. “Wanna take care of you, Joel.”

You bite your lip, sinking your teeth into the plump skin, and he curses under his breath. “Will you let me take care of you, handsome?” Your palms flatten across his splayed-out thighs, and you rub back and forth. He could feel his boxers become tighter as you wait for his answer. “Hmm?”

His body involuntarily leans back so he could sink further and further into the couch. His body acts, once again, before his mind can even comprehend the pure lust and desire he has for you. His hips jump forward to allow your soft hands to shuffle his boxers down and pool around his legs. 

Finally, he says, “please.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You grab a hold of his half-hard member, and he groans at the sight of you practically drooling for his cock. Your eyes are glistening with such lust, and he sees that speckled look of love that fills them.

His own eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as you press a couple of sweet kisses on his inner thigh—causing him to jerk. You pump his cock a few times, jaw slacking at the pre-cum that is already dribbling against his tip.

“Darlin’.” He gasps.

He watches as you wrap your soft lips around his head. He can feel his cock twitch and become harder—pleasure throbbing against his bulging veins. “F-Fuck, just like that. Yes.”

You flatten your tongue along his ruddy tip and then swirl in between his crying slit. “Fuckin’ mouth on you, I—” He lets out small puffs of air, teeth biting his lower lip in pleasurable agony. If it weren't for his fat cock in your mouth, you definitely would have smiled at the praise. He moans, almost as if he could feel it. 

"Joel—baby—so needy."

Joel was pretty sure he could die happy, right with your lips on his cock because when you rasp that out, there was a bead of your saliva and his pre-cum connected to your lips.

His knees twitch in between you, not being able to help it. He drags his hand to the nape of your neck and squeezes the base of it. “Takin’ care of me so fuckin’ well. My pretty girl—suckin’ my cock.” His words slur together with each syllable of his honeyed Texas accent.

The soft cries and whimpers that leave his mouth are really addicting—your hand squeezes against the base of his thigh from wanting more. 

"You taste so good, Joel. 'm—I love you. I love your cock."

You bop your head even lower—esophagus spasming at the pure thickness of Joel. No matter how many times your sweet cunt or stretched mouth took him, you were never used to his swollen size. 

You hum against him as you feel the sticky substance of pre-cum leak from his tip and onto your tongue—salty and earthy. His hips sputter slightly upward, lips cursing up a storm. “Oh-fuck-fuck. C-Can’t–ugh–can’t take much longer, sweet girl.” 

His body almost shutters from the drool he feels slowly drip down to his balls. Your mouth is warm and balmy, slick tongue working excellently against his hardened shaft. He gasps out your name, mixed in with one of his pet names for you. 

He lets himself become lost between the soft pillows of you and your expert tongue that brings him to the brink of pleasure. He lets the stiff trauma that makes his shoulders and muscle tense slowly wash off of him. “Love when you suck my cock, yeah, f-fuck—my pretty girl takin’ care of my fuckin’ cock.”

His mouth hangs open as you hollow your cheeks and suck on his ruddy tip before shoving your throat back down to the base of his cock. He wasn’t sure how he was sane at this moment—watching the saliva drop from his cock down to his balls—as he was throbbing with pleasure. 

His head drops back onto the couch, and he moans and whimpers out your name. It stays on his tongue—repeating over and over as if it was the only thing that ever mattered in the world. He feels his tummy squeeze, thighs tensing and pulsating as he feels that familiar coil tighten. “Oh, baby—darlin’—my girl—”

You suck in, swirling your tongue just over his slit once more, and he gruffs out a gasp. "Fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you—" Thick beads of cum spew to the back of your throat—causing you to gag. His cum rolls over as his cock twitches and spurts in your mouth. 

You swallow every drop that Joel gives you—gulping it down on his shaft. He was already sensitive, cock already softening, but the whimper that left his mouth seemed one of ecstasy.

You relent, though. Your jaw was a little sore, and you had a feeling Joel was going to want to return the favor. You unhinge your mouth from him with a small ‘pop’ and pat his knee in affection. 

“Feel better, handsome?”

“Loads.” He snorts. “Literally.”

You roll your eyes, getting up from the floor and taking your usual seat on his thighs. “Hilarious, Miller. Real funny.” You were happy, though. You were able to give him the distraction he deserves.

His smile never settles as he pulls you into him. A weight had lifted onto his chest at the true realization that you’re here.

You’re with him.

You’ve alive.

You’re here. 

Joel knew that the nightmare would haunt him for a long time, but for now, you are all he needs.

[sky-is-the-limit]

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆:

Phillip Graves who would be in denial of his feelings about you. He'd convince himself that you were just another warm body for him to use, another pawn on his chessboard that he'd decide when or where to move. Someone easily replaced, someone only worth an hour of his day.

Every night, confusion invaded his mind. He could not stop thinking about you, where you were, who you were with.. The tremendous question bothered him whether this feeling was love or not. Whether it was some sick obssesion or if what he felt was pure possessiveness for a body he got to taste and hold. Perhaps it was both.

Falling in love with you was the easy part, it just happened. It was admitting it to himself, that was the hardest task he ever had to handle. He could try to run away from it, hell, he tried countless times with accepting missions that lasted months, wishing that time would cure his aching heart.

Until he realised that he could run forever, search forever, but in the end, every path would lead right back to you. Every time the feeling would get deeper, more complete, more bewitching. It was pointless to try. His heart had been alone for so long it was almost unsettling to suddenly have company. To have you.

You never heard him say any words of affirmation nor sweet talk. Never “I miss you” or “I love you”. Phillip Graves never trusted those words. But when he said,

“Let me do that, you're gonna hurt yourself.” It was the little things, really. Going out of his way to appear useful, to delude himself into believing that you needed him even for tasks you could handle yourself.

The Commander inside of him felt ashamed for his eagerness to run to you, to carry your groceries, to change a lightbulb, to wait almost two hours outside of the hair salon so you wouldn't have to take the train back home.. Not Phillip, though. He needed you to need him.

⚜

“Come on, I'll walk you to your car.” Let me spend the last minutes of our time together in comforting silence, his heart admitted quietly. It was the way you instinctively walked closer to him, his warmth radiating safety and protection.

Your love was a quiet emotion that in time became part of the oxygen he needed to breathe, and so though he might've fought against it's existence, any form of removal or the lack of your presence in his life and the emotions would begin to choke him.

⚜

“Don't say something you're gonna regret, sweetheart.” He closed his eyes, took a deliberate deep inhale through his nose, held it for a few seconds before forcing the trapped air out through pursed lips, attempting to calm down his accelerating heartrate and the blood that had starting racing through his veins.

You argued, yes. There were days when you couldn’t stand each other. But every disagreement was followed by a reconciliation that brought you closer than before. It was like watching two magnets, pushing and pulling until they finally clicked into place.

⚜

“It's past midnight, where were you?” His cheeks coloured, and his lips formed a wobbly scowl, bordering on a pout, as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was embarrassing how he spent hours glancing at his watch, then at the door, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the tabletop. He couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t breathe normally. Everything a jumble. Thoughts. Emotions. A cacophony. He was unraveling.

What if you got into an accident? What if you were trapped unable to scream for help? What if you left with another? He had no right to ask such question and yet he did, every time because if something was to happened to you, he'd burn the world into ashes and await the company of your ghost.

⚜

“Who was that asshole talking to you?” The room was filled with people, but all he could see was you. Stormy eyes met your gaze across the room, a silent conversation passing between you. His eyes were fire in water, if such thing could be imaginable. But as he began to make his way towards you, a man stepped in, engaging you in meaningless conversation.

It was fear that brought rage, that hot burning anger that seeked to harm. Fear of losing you, fear of not being enough, fear that you would finally wake up to realise that almost any man out there was more deserving of your affections than a broken soldier who would burn in the pits of hell for his crimes.

His heart sank, but he couldn’t look away. Rage consumed him, it burned in his stomach and he swore he could feel the temperature rising. It felt like a living, breathing organism trying to claw it's way out of him.

His gaze was icy, freezing everyone it touched, making even a crowded room feel lonely until you decided to spare him a look, flashing him a smile that would put even the sun to shame and in an instant his eyes burned with a fire that could ignite even the most dampened surface.

⚜

“Do you, uh, wanna come over?” It felt like he was on fire, that he might spontaneously combust at any moment, like someone had set a slow and steady match beneath his center, deep in the pit of his stomach as you picked up the phone.

Not even an hour had passed since they landed and he was running back to you, like a fiend desperate to get his dose. It was frightening, he felt fragile as though a negative response from you would've crushed him into pieces.

⚜

“ Stay the night.” He still couldn't understand what the fuck you were doing there, being with him, choosing him, tolerating his bullshit on the daily.

He certainly didn’t deserve you, redemption for everything he had done as a Shadow and later in desperation to free himself, forever out of his grasp, never his to claim and yet your eyes seemed to pull him in, a gravitational force he couldn’t resist.

“God, I missed your lips.” And with that, he surged forward to kiss you desperately. It was odd. You were no stranger to him kissing you with desperation, but that felt different. It was soft and longing, like he was chasing something he couldn't have nor deserved to.

Deep within your chest, your heart shattered for him a little. You’ve had your fair share of romantic lovers and flings, you lived a normal life, that was until he appeared with the force of a storm, but you realised that with his line of work, he never had the chance to.

He broke the kiss abruptly and started sloppily kissing down your neck in quick succession, letting his tongue dart out intermittently to lick your skin and occasionally letting his teeth nip at you.

As he continued down over your exposed upper chest over the sweetheart neckline of your shirt, he started falling to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding down over the outside of your thighs to show his devotion, to worship you like you deserved.

⚜

“I'll fucking kill him.” The anger was first seen in his eyes, then a tension in his muscles, an inability to think clearly soon followed. How dare someone upset you? How dare someone speak to you that way? He wanted to lash out in the streets to find them, to hurt them if not vanish them from the surface of the earth.

Seeing your beautiful eyes glisten with tears was the worst type of torture. He wanted to shield you from this cruel world, protect what was his even if he had to destroy everything else as a means to do so. He would do anything for you.

If it meant unleashing his violent temper on those who dared bring you to that state, so be it. He was willing to keep you safe from it, be good to you and unforgiving to everyone else.

⚜

That was when you heard the unspoken words of love in every sentence. Phillip Graves's love was like a blazing fire, burning brightly and fiercely. It was like a lightning strike, a sudden realization that shook you to your core, it really was love. Pure and unconditional in his own messed up way.

At times, it felt like you were drowning in treacherous sea and he just stood there, watching, unwilling to help just to see how far you'd go for him. If you were just as mad for him as he was.

How could you hang on to something so incomprehensible? How could you keep pouring love into an abyss? But then there you were. Always there. There was something in those blue eyes that was so inviting, so safe and intoxicating that you couldn't help yourself nor you'd choose another. 

⚜

The cold night wrapped the world in a frosty embrace, the air crisp and biting. Stars twinkled like diamonds in the clear, dark sky, while the moon cast a silvery glow over the silent, snow-covered landscape.

You sat in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, intimate. Words weren't necessary to understand each other. A look, a touch, a shared smile was enough. His presence was enough.

“What are you doing out here? You're gonna catch a cold.” Finally, he spoke with concern, battling with the inner Commander desperately asking him to conceal his worry. His eyes were alarmingly smooth, devoid of the wrinkles that often accompany age, as if time itself hesitated to mark him.

“I like the night sky, it brings me peace.” The words came out barely as an audible whisper, like if sharing a precious secret or an embarrassing habit.

He was now standing in your shadow, closing what already felt like the non-existent distance between you. Suddenly, you ceased moving entirely when his hands reached out to place his jacket around your shoulders.

“You have to see the night sky back at home. The stars shine brighter in Texas.” His voice softened as he recalled his hometown that he missed dearly, the gentle lilt carrying a tender affection that warmed your heart.

“Really? Maybe one day I'll visit.” There was a flash of lightning outside, a prelude to the storm ahead to match the electrocuting jolt shooting down your spine as you felt his hand gently find place on your lower waist.

“Or maybe I'll take you back with me.” His face was close enough that you could feel his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke what felt like a promise.

He didn’t say anything after that nor did you. But he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession. He was yours the first moment he laid eyes on you. Your love was a tumultuous symphony, full of passionate crescendos, heartbreaking solos, and soft, tender interludes. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was yours. Phillip Graves was yours. Unconditionally.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Can you write about Eddie dad, like he buys his kid his first guitar? But he has to sell sweetheart to get it? But the reader gets sweetheart back with her engagement ring and then Eddie is like where is your ring???

Just an FYI the baby's name is Asher.

Eddie always knew his child would end up loving music, when you two found out you were expecting he started to play music to your bump as it grew, when your baby boy was finally here with you two Eddie was the only one who was able to make him fall asleep as he sung to him.

It's been years of singing to him, of playing the guitar with him that lead to Asher asking for his own guitar for his birthday. You and Eddie talked about it and decided that seven was old enough for him to start learning how to play.

Eddie was over the moon that his son wanted to play the guitar...he was also heartbroken knowing that you two couldn't afford a nice guitar for him just yet. You both agreed to pick up more hours at work and to save as much as possible in the next few months leading to Asher's birthday. He never wanted to have to pinch pennies now that Asher is old enough to notice slight changes that comes with having to save money.

It was a few weeks before Asher's birthday and he was so excited, all he can talk about was his rockstar themed birthday party. You were busy getting everything ready that you haven't had time yet to talk to Eddie about the guitar and Eddie took that to his advantage. One day you took Asher to the party supply store to pick out whatever he wanted and Eddie quickly went to the pawn shop.

It hurt his heart having to sell his sweetheart but it broke his being knowing that Asher wasn't on the path of getting a guitar with how much you've been able to save. You've cut back on everything. You saved as much as you possible could for the past few months and it wasn't enough. Eddie saw how much you were upset over knowing Asher probably wasn't getting a guitar anytime soon and as he thinks about you and his baby boy he knew he had to sell his sweetheart to make his sweethearts happy.

You got back to the house with bags full of party supplies and a very happy six year old. "Mama can I call grandpa! I want tell him bout the party theme!" You laugh feeling you heart swells hearing how excited your baby was and you allowed him to call his grandpa as you put away the party supplies to be used later. As you were putting things away you noticed your husband missing. Soon after noticing this Eddie walks through the door with the excuse of Dustin asking for help with the upcoming campaign. You shrug it off without thinking of anything.

When it's time to tuck Asher into bed he asks Eddie to play a song. You see Eddie tense up and stutter out an excuse of his throat hurting slightly. It takes Asher a little longer to fall asleep that night.

It's two days before Asher's birthday when you pull Eddie to the side to ask about the guitar. "I think we have just enough for a cheap guitar for him" you mutter when Eddie sighs, "Actually...." he mumbles and winces as your focus snaps towards him. "Actually?" You question making him nod. "Isoldsweetheart" he says as quickly as possible. You glare at him playfully, "Munson you know I can't understand you" you say playfully, he takes a deep breath and says it again. "I...I sold sweetheart" Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches. "YOU WHAT?!?!" You nearly scream as he covers your mouth, "Baby don't yell you'll wake Ash" you nod and he uncovers your mouth and sighs again.

"I sold sweetheart. I don't want to give him a shitty guitar for his first one and I can always get a cheap one later to replace her." He tries to justify his actions as you shake your head, "Baby you love that guitar" He shrugs, "I sold it. That's the end of that but I want to get him a true guitar. One that he'll grow up with." All you can do is nod knowing there is no point in arguing.

Eddie was in charge of getting the guitar, you knew nothing about them so he went to his work and got what he deemed worthy enough for his baby. While he was getting the guitar you dropped Asher off at Wayne's to go get sweetheart back. You can tell Eddie is upset with the lost and so is Asher even if he doesn't know that sweetheart is actually gone just yet. You found out where Eddie sold the guitar at and went over with the only expensive thing you owned...your engagement ring.

Today Asher woke up with so much knowing that today was his party. You were in such a rush that you forgot all about sweetheart and your ring. While you were setting up the tables Eddie was setting up all the presents for Asher to be open later in the day. He looked over at you and smiled seeing you talking to Asher trying to lay out the table cloth. He goes over to you two so he can help you out but then something makes him stop in his tracks. "Where is your ring?" Hearing his voice makes you stop in your tracks. "Baby. Where is your ring??" You can hear the confusing and the panic in his voice, you turn to see him and you swallow the lump in your throat before trying to explain yourself.

"Well I...I got sweetheart back..." You mutter making his eyes widen. "You did not sell your ring. You loved that ring!" You nod trying to calm him, "I did but baby I told you before I don't need a ring! I always just wanted our matching bands" He shakes his head but before he can argue back everyone shows up for the party. "We aren't done talking about this." He says before going to greet everyone.

The party is coming to an end when it's time for Asher to open his big present. Seeing his eyes light up and hearing his shouts of excitement made it all worth it. What made it even more worth it was seeing him and Eddie play their guitar together.

A few months later when your birthday came around you were surprised by your baby boy playing one of your favorite songs on his new guitar, and by your other baby giving you a new engagement ring that he made you promise to never get rid of.

Tagging: @emmyshortcake @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @lofaewrites

[cod-dump]

Hello, Mike! Sad question incoming!

In the au where Nikolai is Soap’s bio dad, how would he react to his death?

First post mentioning Nik being Soap’s bio dad

———

Regret

———

He didn’t go with them when they went to spread his ashes in Scotland. He gave Price a part of them then took the rest, no one saying a word about him not being there.

Nik took them there, flew them out and told them about Soap’s favorite trail that they would go on when he was a kid. It was sad he couldn’t really name any current, something that would haunt him. Nik would have regret not doing more with his son outside of work. He should’ve been there more, tried to reach out sooner even though he believed his boy wanted nothing to do with him.

He will forever be haunted by that regret, that anger with himself for not doing more. But he couldn’t imagine the pain his mother was dealing with. Nik chose to be the one to tell her, even though it had been years since they last spoken in person. He felt so numb during it all as he went to her house — The house that Soap would grow up in without Nik being a part of it.

He knocked after a deep breath. Nik had to steel himself, ready for the onslaught of emotion that was to come from his ex-wife and the mother of his child. The look on her face when she opened the door and saw him was first shock, then anger, then confusion.

“Nikolai?”

“Linda.”

The crack in his voice made fear take over her features, every muscle visibly tensing as she gripped the door frame.

“What happened?”

Nik’s voice failed him for a moment, knowing what he was about to say will break them both. He hadn’t said it yet, out loud, of what happened to Soap, to their Johnny. He had heard it plenty of times before, almost immediately after it happened. He’s screamed, cried, raged — Every emotion he has felt. And now he’s settled at silent regret, and once he says it out loud, it’ll start all over again.

“Johnny’s dead.”

It came out blunter than what he intended but there is no gentle way to tell a mother her son is dead.

Linda stared at him without a change in her expression for five seconds before she started shaking her head.

“No… No-“

He couldn’t look at her, he felt a crushing weight shake him as he watched Linda’s world come crashing down under it. She clung to the door frame, chanting ‘no’ as tears began to stream down her face.

As expected, she turned to anger.

“You’re lying!”

“Linda-“

“He’s not- Why would you say that?! Do you hate me that much? To cause me that pain?!”

Nik said nothing more, he knew his voice would give out if he tried. He just listened to her yell, deny their son’s death, and cry. It was devastating watching the woman who he once loved, the woman who he had a child with, break. Her rage would melt away to pure devastation, and she would look him in the eyes and scream.

Then the door would slam, and Nik would be standing there alone. He didn’t even make it off the porch, failing onto the steps with a great heaviness before he broke. He didn’t scream like he did the first time, didn’t feel the intense overwhelming feeling of it all. He just cried, feeling like a true failure. A father who failed his child.

A child without parents has a name: Orphan. What is a parent who lost their child called? For Nik, no single word could ever describe what he was feeling, the hole in his heart that will never be fixed. There was no word for that. No word that truly showed that pain, no word that when spoken someone would understand it.

He would sit there, truly broken. And the door would open behind him, and Nik would tense as a hand lightly touches his shoulder. He turned his head to see Linda, drained of life. Her hand remained on his shoulder.

“I… please come inside.”

And he did.

Linda asked about what happened and they cried together. They were the same in that moment, they had both lost something irreplaceable. Johnny was gone and neither would ever be the same. He had expected her to bring up his career, repeat that old argument that he negatively influenced Soap and made him idolize the military and war. But she didn’t. She didn’t need to, Nik had thought it moments after he was sat down and told what happened.

That regret was a complex emotion. He didn’t just regret not being there for his son, he regretted him being the one putting him there. Johnny was so smart, Linda and Nik wanted him to go to college and get an engineering degree. Pursue that persistent fascination of the stars and space he had since he was a toddler. But Johnny didn’t do that, he wanted to be just like his dad.

Nik would forever have that hang over him, and Linda knew that.

Under Linda’s request they cremated him. Nik had made no objections, neither wanted to have a funeral. That is not how they wanted to remember their boy, cold and dead before them. She gave 141 some of his ashes, the rest was for her and Nik.

And as Price, Ghost, and Gaz made their way up that trail to those cliffs, Linda and Nik went elsewhere.

“He loved it here… told me he missed coming here with you.”

The house that Nik had owned when he still had split custody over Johnny was a place he had a hard time being. He never sold it or abandoned it. He maintained it but never lived there. He couldn’t, especially not now. That place was for him and his son. It was not a home without him.

The woods behind the house was Johnny’s playground, Nik would’ve bought him an entire forest to make him happy. But the fifteen acre patch of woodland was just enough for Johnny. The stream behind the house was one of his favorite places to go. He would try to catch fish or any small critter and bring them back to the house. It still flowed gently, even after all these years. The birds sang, the breeze was welcoming. It felt unfitting for the occasion.

“I remember that model boat I got him. Took us a couple weeks to build it and seal it… just so he could watch it flow down the stream.”

Linda sniffled before she reached into her bag and pulled out the small wooden vessel. It was more cardboard than wood, biodegradable. And it held what was left of Johnny.

“I was so mad when he came home for the school year with his new church pants torn…” Linda smiled sadly, looking at the tiny boat.

“I told him to change but he didn’t listen,” Nik spoke, smiling softly at the memory.

“He was a stubborn boy, nothing you could’ve done.”

Nik swallowed hard, looking away from the stream and into the trees.

“Nothing we could’ve done to change his mind,” Linda said softly.

Another breeze would sweep through the trees, birds singing another chorus of their wordless song and the stream would continue to flow and laugh. The world would continue spinning, no matter what.

Linda kneeled by the stream and Nik would follow. She would stare down at the boat before she placed it in the water. And the stream would take it. They watched it go down the stream, and for a moment Nik could see a boy racing alongside it, dirty pants and wild hair.

The stream would take him everywhere, just like the ocean and breeze will. He was always so free. And now he forever will be.

———

Is this canon to this au? Nah but it’s good writing practice. Little projection at the end

MWIII didn’t happen :)

[dxxdhood]

cabin fervor

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: fed up with your life, you go on a trek through the woods in the dead of winter. When you pass out in the middle of a snowstorm, jason rescues you and brings you back to his cabin.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, hypothermia mention, frostbite mention, food mention, reader with poor self preservation, implied mental health issues

wc: 1.9k

The cold feels sharp, like a thousand pinpricks attacking your skin all at once. When you decided to go on this pathetic excuse for a trip, you thought you knew what you were getting yourself into. Bundled in your layers and snuggled in a puffer jacket, you felt decently protected from the cold when you first left home. But now, when faced with the expanse of winter forest, you feel hilariously underprepared.

The woods you decided to go on a hike continue forever, stretching off into the gray sky no matter where you look. For the first hour or so of your trek, it was actually fairly enjoyable. The mounds of snow covering the ground shimmered in the morning light, and you had no trouble walking through it with  your sturdy boots.

But even though you felt the cold was manageable at first, you quickly start to realize your fingers are numbing through your gloves. Periodically, you shake them out, trying to coax life back into them. Nothing seems to work, so to warm yourself up, you keep walking down what you hope is the trail. There’s about six inches of snow obscuring the ground, so you really can’t be sure if you’re screwing this up or not.

Your phone doesn’t work out here, but you think at least an hour has passed since you started. Every tender nerve in your body is screaming at you to turn back, to go home and make yourself an instant hot cocoa and pretend like everything’s completely fine, but you stubbornly keep walking. It’s nothing but inertia and your fear of returning to your lonely home that keeps you going.

Brushing the slice of skin between your sleeve and glove against your nose, it’s like a block of ice. You don’t have a mirror, but even if you did, you’d be too afraid to check it. What if some of the skin cells have died by now? What if frostbite is already setting in? You can sense you’ve given yourself goosebumps just from your own panicked thoughts. Slowing your pace down, you take a few deep breaths, counting each second. Stupid. It hasn’t been that long yet. No way you’re getting frostbite already.

Turn back. Your body is screaming at you. Your legs are cramping up along the outer edges like they’ve done too many lunges in one session, but you keep pushing them further. The trees around you are devoid of color, twisted ash like the sky, and you think unreasonably that you deserve better scenery for having come so far. Oh god, you’re losing it. 

It’s snowing now, just small flakes being carried by the wind, but you continue to trudge forward despite the wind buffeting against you. You will not go back to your empty house, tinged in bad memories. There won’t be a job you hate anymore, not out here. No stressors, no panic fueled by the fact that you’re all by yourself. Here, in the woods, being alone doesn’t matter. You don’t have to be anyone out here, you’re safe.

At some point, you’ve started to get warm. The realization has you cackling, and unfortunately there are no birds around for you to scare away. Realizing you just wished to torture birds makes you laugh even harder, and you take a bad step which causes you to fall forward. You’re face first in the snow, your entire body laying flat into it like it’s a mattress. 

Honestly, you feel calm. You’re not afraid. In fact, you wish it would snow a little harder so you would have a soft blanket to cover you. There’s more giggling, which you recognize as yours after a delay. Oddly enough, there’s also footsteps, but those can’t be yours. You’ve stopped being able to feel your feet a long time ago. You think you feel a warm hand gripping your shoulder, but you black out too quickly to tell.

.

You’re awoken by your own heart rattling in your chest. There’s heat, so much heat and the scenery around you is all burnt yellows and dark oranges. It’s so warm in here, you almost have the urge to throw the quilt that’s covering you off, but then you remember this morning’s adventure. 

Opening your eyes further, you realize you’re in a cabin complete with a fireplace. There’s a combination of modern furniture, like a dresser and the bed you’ve been sleeping on, with some furniture that looks distinctly homemade, like a log bench and table. And thankfully, there’s plenty of thick fabrics. There’s a push rug beneath you and blankets folded on the shelves. There’s even an old, possibly fur-lined overcoat spread out on the couch across from you. It’s heaven.

“Finally awake, huh?” a gravelly voice calls out. You turn towards the sound, seeing a man stirring a pot on a wood cookstove. He’s very tall, only missing the ceiling by a few inches, and combined with his bulk, you wonder how he manages to look so at-home in the small cabin. 

“Yeah,” you say, helpfully.

“You wanna tell me what you were doing out there in the middle of a snowstorm?” he takes his gaze off of the stew for a moment to look at you. His eyes are intense, strong like the rest of him.

You open your mouth to respond, but you find yourself gaping. There really isn’t a good explanation, is there? What were you even trying to do? Walking out into woods that go on for dozens of miles in the dead of winter– even you have the self-awareness to know how outrageous that sounds.

“I like the forest.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, grabbing a ladle from the hanging rack. “Me too, that’s why I live here.”

You cringe at yourself, and you can only hope he doesn’t also find you embarrassing. There’s only the steady sound of the fire crackling and he fills two bowls with stew. You continue to peer at him from the bed, watching as he sits down at the table. After a moment, he gestures you over with an arched brow, like he’s confused you even need an invitation.

“Thank you,” you say as you sit across from him. The stew smells rich and vibrant, and even though you wouldn’t have guessed you were that hungry, you eat the first few bites rapidly, not caring that you burn your tongue. 

“It’s true, though,” you say after you manage to slow yourself down. “I like the forest. It makes me happy in a way that I don’t really understand. Like, it’s just trees. I know that, but… I don’t know, something about me coming here when I was younger, just getting to see squirrels running around, smelling the sap and the moldy leaves in the fall– it’s great. You get lost here, and you never really know the place no matter how many times you visit.”

He nods, “The woods are lovely, dark and deep.”

“Isn’t that a poem?” you say as you swallow another mouthful of stew.

From up close, you realize he has scars running along his face and neck, disappearing past the collar of his sweater, “Robert Frost. You read poetry?”

“Not really. You?”

“Sometimes. It gets better when you’re in a worse mood,” you swear you see the ghost of a smile grace his lips. 

“How’s that work?” your eyebrows knit together.

He takes a big gulp of stew and chews on it as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s all emotions, that’s all poetry is.”

He continues, “If you’re already vulnerable, everything the poet’s saying and all the weird analogies they’re using to get their point across are going to land much better. The poet’s feelings are so much more raw when you already understand them.”

And there, in his warm, homey cabin with the flickering fire light, you see him. His hair curls like ink written on parchment, gently brushing against his forehead. His gaze is soft even though he politely keeps it off of you, allowing you to eat in relative privacy. All you want is to get him to talk books to you, maybe for hours, maybe forever. 

“Who are you?” is what you say because you can’t say anything else. 

“Jason,” and he smiles full-out this time. He’s clearly capable, probably toughened from surviving the winter out in this cabin alone, but his expressions are still so delicate, like he’s a ripple in a pond.

“I’m–”

“Someone who thinks they’re immortal, someone who thinks knit gloves are good enough to stop hypothermia, should I keep going?”

“Hey!” you shout, trying in vain to smack his shoulder. “Come on, my winter outfit wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t even wearing a scarf,” he says as he finishes his stew. You follow along shortly after, and he walks a few paces until he sits on the coach.

You join him, sitting on the other end. Being closer to the fire, you shiver as you realize how cold you still are, even after the nap and the stew. 

His eyes widen and he gets up immediately, “Wait a second.”

Jason drapes you in the quilt from before, arranging it so no part of your body is left uncovered. “How’s that? Do you want another one? I have more.”

“I think I’m good,” you give a content sigh. “I don’t want to start sweating.”

He nods and sits down beside you, leaving less distance than there was before. The two of you chat over nothing and everything, you point out the knick knacks and books on his shelf and he explains them to you, his face lighting up at getting to talk about things that mean so much to him.

At some point, you become thirsty and ask if he has any water. He says he needs to get it “the old-fashioned way” and you watch as he grabs a bucket near the door and fills it with snow from outside. You patter over to the stove, still cloaked in your quilt, and watch as he melts the snow in a pot right in front of your eyes. 

You thank him a bit too enthusiastically, seeing as all he did was melt snow, but what can you say, it was a new experience for you. He pours a mugful for you and one for himself a little later once the water is hotter. Placing a spoonful of leaves from a box on his kitchen shelf into his mug, you realize he’s making tea. Grimacing, you demand a trade. He switches your mugs, no questions asked, and you dig your nose into the quilt at your shoulder to hide your sheepish expression.

When you settle back on the couch and you feel the tiredness finally set into your bones, you tell Jason you have something to say. He listens.

“I was out there because I was alone. I didn’t want… to feel so empty anymore,” you whisper, your eyes already closing.

“I know,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around you as you lean your head on his shoulder. “I get it. I understand.”

You drift off, his words finally instilling you with a warmth you’ve needed for so long. 

[annymation]

The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 15- At All Cost?

Chapter 14

Asha is now in the middle of the wishes room, staring at the queen standing on the king's study.

She feels her heart racing for a moment, she's scared... But then she remembers what she's holding right now, her sketchbook and her magic pencil.

She has nothing to fear, if anything, it's the queen who should be scared.

After glancing at the objects in her hands, Asha takes a deep breath and calms down, and faces the queen boldly.

The queen smiles at that, as she begins to speak with her usual honeyed voice "Hello dear, such a pleasant surprise to have you back so soon." She looks down to Valentino, the goat in cowering between Asha's legs and shaking in fear at the sight of the lynx next to the queen, her smile widens "Awww and you even brought a little snack for my pet, how thoughtful." she lets out a quiet chuckle.

Bravo is salivating, staring at the baby goat with predatory eyes.

Asha starts to think on what she can draw, the queen hasn't moved yet, so maybe she can ramble with her for a bit and then catch her off guard...

Asha realizes how the queen looks older than the last time they've met, not too old, but the white hair streak and the subtle wrinkles on her previously perfect skin are noticeable... Just like Aster, she sees this change as an opportunity to make fun of the royal.

"Yeah, glad to be back. Though I thought my last visit here in the castle was 2 days ago, but judging by your face it must have been AGES, huh?" Asha says with a smirk, knowing that would infuriate the queen.

And she was correct, for the queen's smile immediately fell into a cold glare.

(This is the closest I could find in the movie of Amaya looking evil)

"It is churlish to comment on a woman's age, have you no manners?" Her tone is condescending.

Asha simply smiles, seeing that struck a nerve "These are just the manners you deserve, "your highness"" She says the formal title with sarcasm.

The queen looks at her with a serious expression as she raises one eyebrow, almost impressed with how much that sweet and insecure girl they met changed so much in so little time... But her smiles returns slightly, because she has already planed on how to take all that courage out of her.

"You really think so? This way you might hurt my feelings, child..." She places a hand in her chest making a fake sad expression, that instantly returns to a wicked smile as she takes a potion flask from inside the front of her dress "Perhaps I should give you just what you deserve as well."

Asha notices the flask and instantly turns to her sketchbook to try drawing something "What a coincidence, I was thinking the same thi-"

But before she starts to draw, she notices... The floor she's standing on is covered with something... Something shiny, that look's like blue sand.

She glances around the room and sees that the whole floor around her is covered with a thin layer of this weird sand, Asha has a puzzled expression.

The queen notes her confusion "Ah, I see you finally noticed the fire salamander ashes, quite pleasing to look at how they sparkle, don't you think?"

Asha feels a chill run down her spine as she hears the word "fire" coming out of the woman's mouth "W-What?" She turns to the queen, and sees she's now opening a flask with an orange shinny liquid inside.

"Oh yes, it is known as one of the most inflammable components in the magic world, and it also so happens to have such a beautiful reaction when mixed with dragon's blood..." She explains like she's just sharing an interesting fun fact about her hobby as a potion maker, her tone becomes sinister as she opens the flask and asks "Would you like to see?"

"No- NO NO WAIT!" Asha screams in desperation, completely forgetting about her magic pencil as she takes Valentino in her arms to protect him from what she already knows is coming.

The queen drops one single drop of the shiny liquid on the floor, and a HUGE blue flame forms in front of her, spreading slowly to the whole room covered in fire salamander ashes.

(If you're wondering where the heck Amaya get's all these ingredients, let's just say that line she had in the movie about "Why a sorcerer needs what a sorcerer needs is not your concern" is a line Magnifico probably said to a lot of soldiers he sent off on dangerous quests over the years.)

The queen laughs maniacally as she snaps her fingers, making the huge door made of mirrors close in front of her, trapping Asha in the fiery room.

The flames are spreading and approaching Asha slowly, she thinks fast and pulls from her sketchbook the drawing of the flying carpet.

As the carpet flies out of the page, she jumps on it with Valentino. Now they're both safely flying above the flames, surrounded by the wish bubbles.

The queen has no idea they're safe from harm, and Asha smiles with that notion. She'll open the door sooner or later to see if Asha is dead, so all the girl has to do is play along and pretend she's in mortal danger.

"THERE'S SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH YOU LADY!" Asha yells from the carpet, trying her best not to laugh while faking she's scared for her life. Valentino also catches on to the plan and lets out some fake scared bleating, Asha pets him to show she's proud.

The queen falls for it, as she says in sarcasm "Who meee? Why, all I want is to give my beloved pet some freshly cooked meat" She's sitting down with her back against the wall of mirrors, as she too pets her lynx's head gently... Her eyes light up as a devious idea pops in her head, so she says with her words dripping with venom "...Besides, wouldn't you agree this is the most fitting end for you? To burn into ashes just like your dear mama and papa?"

Asha is stunned at the mention of her parents, but her surprise quickly turns into anger "Don't you DARE talk about my parents!" She almost forgets she's supposed to sound scared right now

"Awww sensitive topic, my flower? If it serves as any consolation, they would've suffered way more had I picked how to kill them." Her voice has a twisted sense of humor hanging on every word.

Asha's eyes widen "... Wait... What did you just say?"

"You see, Magnus has always been more of a "Get things done quick" kind of man, and although I love that about him, I oh so wish we had gone with my plan of poisoning their garden..." Amaya continues casually like she's just sharing small talk with the poor girl that is having this terrifying revelation unfold before her "But oh well, I suppose starting a fire with magic was simpler. Such a shame you weren't inside with them, would've spared us a lot of grey hairs." She says as she holds a strand of her newly white hair streak.

Asha feels her world crumble as she process what Amaya just told her...

All this time she thought it was just bad luck, that they had an accident with the fireplace or dropped a candle... But it was them...

Everything was because of them. The reason she never got to learn how to draw with her mother, the reason she never got to hear her father stories, the reason she never got to grow up with them, the reason she and her Saba were alone... It was all THEM.

Asha sees the fire consuming half of the room bellow her, the flames are reflecting on her eyes as she asks with her voice more furious than ever "WHY?! WHAT DID THEY EVER DO TO YOU?!"

The queen laughs at the question "You are just like them, darling. They were worthless little weeds festering in our garden, inspiring our roses to grant wishes by themselves. We simply had no choice but to root them out." Amaya explains with her voice turning more and more maniacal as she finishes "And now, it's your turn to join them!"

... That was the reason? Because her parents encouraged people to chase after their wishes? Her parents lost their lives... Because these two sickos wanted to control EVERY SINGLE PERSON in Rosas?!

Asha sees that the room is almost fully consumed by the flames, and so is her heart consumed by anger. So she lets out a scream, from the pain she feels in her chest and also to trick the queen into opening the door.

"AAAAAaaAaaaAAAAAaAAAH!!!"

The queen is content hearing the girl painful screaming, thinking that's the last sound she'll ever hear from her.

"It seems your meal is ready, Bravo" She says with a twisted glee while getting up, Bravo looks just as exited as his owner.

The queen snaps her fingers, opening the huge door made of mirrors. The whole room is covered in bluish flames. With one drop of another flask she had with her, this time with a blue liquid, the fire is quickly extinguished like the flame of a candle being blown out.

Once the fire was gone the queen expected to see the girl and her little goat lifeless bodies laying on the floor... But they're nowhere to be seen.

"... What in the-"

"Looking for me?" Asha's voice comes from above.

The queen quickly looks up, gasping in shock when she sees the girl flying on a magic carpet.

The queen barely has time to react before Asha jumps from the carpet, and with one swift move of her hand, points to the surprised lynx, wordlessly commanding the carpet to deal with him.

The carpet flies towards the queen, and she cowers in fear and closes her eyes trying to protect herself. But her eyes quickly open again when she hears her pet meowing desperately, the carpet took him and flew with him to outside the window.

(Ya know, originally I was gonna write a chase scene between Valentino and Bravo, but I realized we kinda don't have the time and I'm not feeling like writing that, soooooo I just throw the cat out the window instead. He'll be fine.)

"MY BABY!" The queen shrieks, worried sick for his safety

"Relax, I sent him somewhere safe. Unlike YOU, I'm not a monster." Asha sounds fierce but also with a hint of pain in her voice, like every word that comes out of her mouth gives a sting in her heart, as she's fighting to not cry in front of the queen. "Valentino, go hide while I deal with her." Her voice is serious, while she's flipping through the pages of her book, and once she finds the one she was looking for she pulls out a sword just like the one she used to practice sword fighting with Aster earlier.

The queen sees Asha doing magic in disbelief, as she's now walking backwards slowly shaking her head "no" with a terrified expression.

Asha doesn't hear Amaya whisper under her breath "That boy didn't say anything abo-"

The queen stops mumbling when Asha begins to run, charging towards her with sword in hands, ready to attack.

Amaya tries to run out of the way, but she trips on her own dress and falls on the floor.

Now, Asha is the one in control, pointing her sword to the woman laying down beneath her. Her enraged face shows clearly that she's after revenge.

Amaya for the first time loses her composure, and stutters in a desperate attempt to reason with her "A-Asha, now now ca-calm down, listen to me-" her voice is helpless.

"NO! YOU LISTEN!" Asha's voice echoes through the large room "All the pain and suffering I've went through ALL MY LIFE ties back to the two of you! All because you wanted to keep this SICK AND TWISTED sense of control over everyone in Rosas." She points the sword closer to Amaya's neck, the older woman is shaking "But guess what, no matter what you did, you could NEVER control me! I overcame everything you threw at me, and now, I'll make sure you two can NEVER hurt anyone else ever again!" Asha raises the sword above her head to strike down the witch-

...

But Asha stops.

She can't do it.

She's not like them.

Asha looks down on the queen breathing heavily and lowers her sword. She doesn't know if she's doing the right decision... But that's her decision.

The queen sees Asha's hesitation... And a smile slowly creeps in on the corner of her red lips "You can't do it, can you dear?... Because unlike me, you're not a monster." She repeats what Asha said moments ago with a faux soothing voice.

Asha quickly points the sword back to Amaya's neck, as a warning that if she moves Asha won't hesitate anymore, she speaks with the queen with a cold expression "I never intended to kill neither of you anyway, the plan was just to-"

"Apprehend us and have Rosas decide our punishment?" The queen finishes her sentence, now with a full smile. Asha's eyes widen in surprise "I must say, I found that part of your little plan quite adorable, so nice of you and your friends to show us mercy." Her voice mimics a sweet tone, dripping with sarcasm.

Asha feels a chill run down her spine when the queen mentioned her friends... This, and the trap that was set up for them in the kitchen... How did they know?

"How? HOW did you know we were coming?!" Asha tries to hide her fear, speaking angrily while getting the blade closer to the queen's neck.

Amable doesn't even flinch, she simply warns her "I'd be careful with that blade, my sweet. You lay one scratch on me and my darling king will be quite upset." That doesn't really phase Asha at all as she just squints her eyes at her, wanting some answers, so the queen gives her an answer "Let's just say a... Sleepy little pawn of ours made himself quite useful."

Asha's eyebrows scrunch in confusion, she thinks for a moment and... Realization hits her.

"... Simon?" Asha's mind is rushing, she's stares at the queen nodding positively in front of her, and she feels like she's the one who was cut by a blade... He betrayed them?... No, he wouldn't, the king must have forced him "What did you two do with him?!" She asks furious.

"Nothing at all, he ratted you out. For you see my dear, our "sick and twisted sense of control" you speak of runs oh so much deeper than you think" Asha is staring at Amaya straight in the eyes, so she doesn't see that the queen's hand is reaching for something inside the a hidden pocket inside her long skirt "You can't trust anyone in this kingdom, in the end, they're aaaaall just little pawns in our game of chess."

"You're wrong... Simon didn't tell you our whole plan. If he did then you'd have known about my magic." Asha says with certainty, not fully understanding what happened yet, but still believing that her friend at least fought against telling them everything.

"Indeed, he failed to mention it, which gave you an advantage... However, it hardly matters how many advantages you get, for when playing chess-" Her smile widens into a maniacal expression, and she raises her hand holding a potion flask that was hidden inside her dress "The QUEEN is the strongest piece on the board!" She throws it on the floor, it shatters, creating a cloud of thick blue smoke.

Asha coughs, that caught her completely off guard. She looks around and can see nothing but the thick blue smoke, she tries not to breathe too much of it in by covering her face. Still holding on to her sword tightly.

The queen is no longer on the ground, Asha can't see where she went... But she hears the sound of something made of metal hitting the floor.

She turns to the direction of the sound-

Queen Amable took a sword that was previously decorating the wall, and is now running to Asha ready to attack.

Asha gasps in surprise, raising her hand drawn sword to defend herself, and she succeeds. The two are now pressing their swords against one another, with the queen trying her hardest to get Asha out of balance to stab her.

The queen fights the girl with finesse and precision, like this is something she has experience with, while Asha's movements are more clumsy and rigid, but she's still more agile and relatively stronger than the older woman, since she was cursed and is now 10 years older than she was previously.

(Cute fun fact I guess: for the longest time Magnifico was a bit paranoid that if people found out they were evil and a "hero" could try to defeat them, so, just like how Asha practiced with Aster, he taught Amaya how to defend herself just in case anything happened to him... I hate them, but I also love them as a couple)

As their swords clash against one another, the metallic sounds echo through the room. Asha tries to show confidence, smiling while they fight "Y-you two won't win! Magnus doesn't stand a chance against Aster in the forest, he's gonna be here soon and-"

The queen can only laugh darkly as she speaks "Oh darling, it is your little star who doesn't stand a chance! For you see, dark magic is not be his only weakness! Hahaha"

Asha is still fighting, but her face looks concerned...

Aster's weakness?

Now... We cut to the woods.

We see a dash of light quickly flying through the trees, until they reach a specific one and flies to the top of it.

The dash of light is obviously Aster. He sits on a tree branch and knocks on the tree "He'll be here any minute now, you guys ready?"

From a role in the tree, two round shinny eyes open, and a voice comes out sounding mysterious: "Of course, a pleasure to be of service."

"Great, thanks again for the help fellas" Aster smiles excitedly, he looks down, just waiting for Magnifico to show up on the trail bellow.

... But then he hears something...

Instruments... Again.

The instruments sound slow, like they're warning Aster of something, and judging by Aster's annoyed face it's something they've already been alerted about before

"Yeah, I knooooow I can't let him get my magic. Don't know if you guys realize but that's the whole reason I'm trying to break that staff in the first place." Aster speaks looking up with narrowed eyes.

The instruments sound... Worried? I don't know how one would describe a worried orchestra, but it's like they're playing cautiously.

Aster this time responds calmer, trying to reassure them "I am being careful, I swear. I won't let him-" Aster stops for a moment and thinks... He doesn't actually knows what would happen if the king got his power, well, except for the part that without his magic he can't exist so the king would pretty much kill him. But Aster doesn't know what would happen to the king and queen... He might as well ask "By the way... Has that ever happened before? A human absorbing a star's power?"

The stars go quiet for a moment, before a single flute plays a small sad melody

"I see..." Aster has a worried face "And what happened then?"

Aster listens to the orchestra sounds, it's an ominous percussion mixed with some erratic violins.

Aster listens to it all attentively, his face slowly becomes more and more shocked, as if he's listening to something out of a horror story.

He slowly nods, humming a little with the concern now growing inside him too.

But then he hears one thing that gets his attention.

"Wait wait wait back up" The instruments all stop "What was that about "The human fell into madness"?"

A single cello plays a small melody... Aster's eyes widen.

"Huh, really?... I wonder if the king knows about that..." Aster ponders quietly. Then Aster hears a sound that is not instruments this time, but a twig breaking on the ground bellow, Magnifico's coming "And speak of the devil, that's your cue friends." Aster says knocking on the tree.

Down bellow, Magnifico is walking on the trail, with trees all around him. He's holding his staff over his shoulders casually as he singsongs to himself:

"Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder where you are..." the king looks around the woods... It's quiet... Too quiet. The star is plotting something, but that's alright, because so is he "Come out come out lad, we both know you can't hide from me the whole night long... I just wish to have a little chat with you." The king says in a faux friendly voice.

"Yeah you can keep wishing that but I ain't granting it!" Aster's voice comes from the tree tops

The king looks up with a wide smile, ready to cast a spell to capture the star. But his smile instantly vanishes as the green light from his staff reflects on many tiny eyes staring down at him, revealing that on the trees above there's a whole army of Genets ready to pounce:

(Genets: Slender cat-like nocturnal animals that can be found in Spain... Imagine a bunch of these fellas staring down on you at night, terrifying me thinks)

They all jump on the king, climbing all over him and scratching his clothes. Magnifico screams while holding tightly to his staff and trying to protect his already scarred face

"AAAAH GET OFF ME YOU WRETCHED- NOT THE FACE NOT THE FACE!!" Magnus is wobbling around covered in wild cats.

Aster lets out a childish laugh as he cheers while flying above the desperate king "Yes! Get the face everyone! And also those fingers if you can! Hahahaa"

The king turns red with fury "ENOUGH!" he uses his magic to throw all of them away from him, some genets scatter while others stay, ready to attack him again, but the king is having none of that "GET NEAR ME AGAIN AND I'LL MAKE FUR COATS OUT OF YOU"

The all get scared, and run away to the depths of the forest.

Aster looks sad for a moment but he has no time to think too much about it, for the king immediately turns to him and tries to capture him once more.

Aster swiftly dodges the king's magic and hides behind a tree.

He then shrinks down to the size of a hand. He's the size of tinker bell.

The king is catching his breath after all the commotion, but he has enough energy to scream some facts to the star "Just accept it, boy! You can't best me! throw me your plants and I'll burn them, throw me your animals and I'll scatter them!"

Aster face is deep in thought, he hates to agree, but they have indeed been in this game of cat and mouse for a while, and Aster is not even close to getting that staff, not to mention how they hate to put even more animals in danger...

The king upon receiving no snarky comment in return, calms down slightly, knowing that the star deep down is just as tired of this game as he is...

He reaches for something inside his vest.

"So how about we stop playing, and just talk things out, hum?" Magnus voice is once again "friendly" but with a clear ominous undertone.

Aster thinks... He might be able to catch the staff while the king is distracted blabbering whatever he has to say... So he plays along.

"You really must love the sound of your own voice, don't ya? All you do is talk all the time." Aster's snarks while hiding behind the tree "Fine, what do you wanna talk about so bad?"

We don't see what Magnifico pulled out his vest, but he's holding a small object on his hand. Looking at whatever it is with a mischievous smile.

"That girl... You love her, don't you?" The king asks nonchalantly.

Aster's eyes widen in shock... EVEN HE NOTICED?!

Aster knew he couldn't let this man know how he and Asha felt about each other, as he'd totally take advantage of that, so the star tries to lie "W-what?! What you talking about?! We-we like- We just met 2 days ago! That's crazy talk!" Aster is a terrible liar by the way.

Magnifico has a pleased smile, as he walks forward to where Aster's voice is coming from, he's holding his staff with one hand while hiding the other behind his back. "And I fell in love with my wife in two minutes or less, what's your point? Heheh" he chuckles like he's reminiscing of something, but then continues, sounding as if he's talking to a stubborn kid that refuses do admit something obvious "Come now, starlight. Wishing stars are supposed to only give humans some guidance, but here you are going waaay above and beyond your purpose, breaking all the rules for her... Because you love her~" He singsongs that last part as if to make fun of the star.

Aster is about to say something when he notices that Magnifico is getting closer to his hiding place, so he flies to the ground, still on his miniature size, trying to hide in the low vegetation and move to somewhere else.

Magnifico notes the silence, and just chuckles "Well, either I'm right, or you're just too incompetent to even guide her at all, aren't you?" The king says jokingly.

That strikes a nerve with Aster, as he's quite done with the stars calling him incompetent and naive for so long. The star is still hiding in his small size but his voice is just as loud as it would be if he was normally sized:

"You know what?! YEAH we are in love! And it's thanks to our love that we'll defeat you! Because we'll fight to protect each other, at all cost!"

The king's grin grows even more devious.

"At all cost? Hmm, how charming." The king coos, and we see him holding the mysterious object tightly and focusing to perform a spell... He whispers some words in latin:

"Ligneus. Pupa. Crescere. Et dolus."

Aster doesn't hear what the king just said. but suddenly, he starts to hear the stars all speaking with him at the same time, the instruments play alarmingly all at once. They're speaking over each other, so Aster doesn't understand, the star looks up in frustration and whispers "Guys o-one at a time please- UGH I don't understand nor have time to talk ri-"

"Did you hear that, Asha? I told you he cared." The king speaks sweetly with someone else.

Aster feels the world stop when he hears that name come out of the king's mouth.

Aster flies out of the bushes and sees it... Magnifico is holding Asha by her shoulder, she's tied up by a rope made of green magic, her mouth is covered and she's struggling to free herself.

The star doesn't even think before he returns to his normal size, their animation looking rough and sketchy as he yells "GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF-"

Aster sees a giant green hand made of light coming in his direction.

The star remembers he can't let himself get caught. In the blink of an eye he stretches his body down, like he's made of rubber... Get it? He's animated like a rubber hose cartoon for a second.

Aster dodges the king's magic once again and flies to hide behind a large tree.

"Ha! Almost caught you this time!" The king exclaims victorious while laughing.

Aster's mind is rushing with questions as he starts to panic... How did he get her? Is she hurt? Their plan went wrong? How can he save her?!

In the confusion that is their mind, they can't focus to listen what the stars are trying to tell him, the stars are just muddled voices to him now.

"I bet you're wondering how I found her, aren't you?" The king asks with a sadistic sweetness in his voice, holding the girl close to him "See, while you were flying away and hiding, like a coward, a guard came into the forest to tell me they found the poor thing lost in our garden" His voice is filled with a mocking fake sadness like he's describing a tragedy "And she just wouldn't stop calling your name... So here he is Asha, your daring "hero" hahaahaha!" His evil laugh echoes through the woods.

Aster didn't even know he could feel so much fear and anger at the same time. He places a hand on the ground and uses his magic to try attacking Magnifico with vines.

The king notices the plants beginning to grow next to him from the corner of his eyes, and his smile just grows as he says "Ah ah ah, I wouldn't do that if I were youuu~" He points his staff to her face, with the green gem shinning brightly and menacingly.

Aster can hear Asha muffled screams in fear, and he get's the message. He stops the vines from growing. The star looks down defeated.

Magnifico sees the vines retreating, and takes the staff away from her face "That's better. Now! How do you feel about a little bargain?" His voice is full of excitement like he's a con man ready to make a big deal.

Aster may be naive but even he knows where the king is going with this, and his not falling for it "Do you think I'm an idiot!?" The star asks angrily

"Why, yes! Very much so!" The king answers gleefully.

"You want me to surrender in exchange for Asha's life... But we both know your word isn't worth anything!" Aster is trying to speak boldly to mask how scared he actually is.

"*Gaaaaasp* You think I would lie?? Meeee??? I'd never!" The king says dramatically with sarcasm clear as day "Hehe jokes aside, I can assure you I NEVER break my end of a deal... If you don't break yours." He puts emphasis on that last part, he then begins to speak very quickly the terms of their deal "So here's the trade off, you surrender in, let's say, the count of 5, and in return I'll have your little doll here sent to some other kingdom where she'll be safe from harm and can live on to thrive and chase after her dreams yada yada yada happy ending! What do ya say? Come on."

Aster is too overwhelmed to think- He obviously can't trust Magnifico's word, but if they don't do as he says then Asha is done for- But who's to say she'll be safe later when the king has his mag-

"Let me make this easier for you... One"

The king starts counting.

Aster mind is spinning, he tries to think clearly, but his emotions are clouding his judgment. The stars voices are just white noise.

"Twooo"

The king prepares to use his magic on the girl.

Aster feels some tears form in the corner of his eyes... He promised Asha he would't let himself get caught but-

"Threee"

Aster hears Asha's muffled voice screaming for help, but not the stars above him...

He breaks his promise.

"ALRIGHT!" The star yells, flying out of their hiding place, with his hands up.

And before he knows it, there are glowing green chains on his writs that quickly pull him closer to where the king and "Asha" are. Once the chains are on him the sound of messy orchestra instruments stops all together, since Aster's powers are diminished by the dark magic, he can no longer hear the stars.

The star doesn't struggle, accepting his loss. The king pulls him in closer and closer until Aster is standing right in front of him, Magnifico looks down on him with a cruel smile.

Aster is not looking at him, his eyes are full of sadness and fixated on the ground, unable to face "the girl" the king's holding.

"Awww why the long face, little one? Here, she's free just as promised." The king snaps his fingers and "Asha" is free from her restraints, now just standing still next to him. "... Any last goodbyes before I send her off?" Aster doesn't notice but Magnifico is trying his best to hold in his laughter.

Aster can only look down, not wanting to face her yet, but he apologizes for not granting her wish "... Asha... I'm sorry... I tried everything I could but- I failed." a single tear runs down the star's face as he begs her "When you're away from here... DON'T come back, and DON'T look back... I just want you to be safe and-" Aster stops as he finally looks at her face.

It's devoid of emotion... And her eyes are soulless... Like a dolls eyes.

Aster is worried that Magnifico did something to her, he reaches out to hold her hand "Asha? What's wro-" but when he holds her hand... There's nothing... No star inside of her... That's not Asha.

As realization dawns on the star, Magnifico can't hold it in anymore "Pffft HAHA HAHAAHAHAAH HAHAHAAH"

With every "ha" Aster's face becomes more furious, both angry at the king and himself for falling for his trick.

"YOU LIED TO ME!" Aster shouts as he tries to get away from Magnifico, who simply pulls him closer by the chains so they're face to face.

"Did I? I thought I was quite clear." He smiles sadistically "I said I'd "have your little doll sent somewhere safe", remember? Aaaand" He snaps his fingers, and the magic that made up the fake Asha disappears like it was blown away by the wind, and all that is left of her is a small wooden doll. The same wooden doll Magnifico made for Asha all the way back in chapter 4.

(... Get it? He turned a wooden doll into a real girl... Like Pinocchio... Heheheheh *Jumps out the window... Gets back to write the rest of the chapter* ahem, anyway, congrats @gracebeth3604 you guessed it, I made Magnifico pull a Hades move on our wonder boy)

"Here she is!" Magnifico exclaims excitedly while placing the doll inside Aster's chained hands "She's all yours, lad! You can even choose where you want me to send her while we go back to the palace." Magnifico says like he's doing Aster a favor. He starts walking and pulling the star to come along.

Aster looks at the doll with rage and throws her away into the bushes.

Aster tries to pull away from the chains and keeps himself still with his feet fixated on the ground "I AM NOT LETTING YOU USE ME TO HURT THEM! IF YOU THINK I GONNA JU- GHHAaaAAaAAAaaaA!!!" Aster feels a shock wave of pain course his body as the king uses a spell to electrocute him, his animation becomes fully disjointed like he's struggling to keep his physical form. Once it's over, Aster can only kneel down in pain.

"Not so funny when it happens to you, is it?" Magnifico's eyes are now full of spite, highlighting the scar over his left eye "I've enjoyed this little game of ours but we really must hurry, I'd hate to keep my queen waiting... Not to mention, your girl is just DYING to see you too."

Aster is weak from the pain but he manages to look up to the king.

"W-what...?"

Did they get her?

We now cut back to the palace, Asha is still fighting with the queen.

The girl looks exhausted, swinging her sword around and defending herself from the unhinged woman. She doesn't have time to stop and take her sketchbook to draw something else to attack.

But Asha slips up, and Amaya manages to disarm her, throwing her sword away to the other side of the room.

Asha gasps in shock.

"NO!- UGH!"

The queen KICKS the girl's legs, making her fall on the ground, now their positions are reversed from how they were before.

Asha looks up horrified to the queen pointing the blade to her face, she's looking down on the girl with a smirk "So... Ha ha- how's that for an "old lady" huh?" The woman is panting like she could collapse from exhaustion at any moment, but she still keeps her composure as she threatens the girl bellow her.

Asha tries to reach for her sketchbook tied to her belt, but the queen quickly takes it off her hands. Asha doesn't have time to react before Amable throws it away to the other side of the room.

Asha is petrified, she has nowhere to go.

She can see Valentino hiding behind the curtains of a window, he's scared.

"You put up a good fight child, but I'm afraid this is where your story ends, with you... All alone." Amaya raises the sword to end the girl's life.

Asha can only close her eyes and prepare for the impact... Until she hears a familiar voice

"Think again WITCH!"

Both Amaya and Asha are startled by the sudden scream, however, a smile quickly appears on Asha's face when she sees who it is.

Amaya turns around and is quickly knocked out of balance by something pushing her to the side, away from Asha. The queen drops the sword on the floor.

What pushed the queen was Dahlia's crutch, as the girl is now standing in front of Asha offering her a hand with a relieved smile "Sorry we took us so long, you okay?"

"Better now you're here!" Asha hold her best friend's hand and goes in for a hug, feeling relieved to see her safe. While they hug, Asha opens her eyes and sees that behind Dahlia there's also Gabo, Hal, Bazeema, Safi and Dario. All of them glaring at the queen laying on the floor.

"Ho- HOW DID YOU BRATS GET IN HERE?!" The queen demands to know, her hair is partially covering her face, she looks like an absolute mess.

Hal points to the small elevator on the wall, used to get food from the kitchen straight to the king's study "Did you forget how you get your meals everyday?"

(How did all 6 of them fit in the elevator?... Same way they did in the movie, cartoon logic)

Amaya just groans in frustration as the teens walk closer to her.

Asha gets her sketchbook on the floor, she sighs in relief before saying with a smile "*sigh* Alright, just like we planned, everyone" She begins to draw some squiggly lines on her book, and as she touches the page the lines come out as long pieces of rope.

Her friends all get a piece of rope. And they walk to tie up the evil queen.

(Hahah get it? The 7 dwarfs references are the ones who save her from the evil queen! Heheheeh I love when references fit the narrative)

The queen's screaming for them to stay away from her in the background. But we focus on Asha, who's calling Valentino to come out of his hiding place.

The baby goat does so, rushing to her arms happily. Asha hugs him with a big smile "It's alright, I'm fine" She reassures him, and also reassure herself.

Asha looks around to her friends and notices... There's one missing.

"... So it was true" She begins to speak with Dahlia, the only one that didn't go help tie up Amaya, preferring to stay by Asha's side "Simon really did betray us..." She sounds hurt.

Dahlia places a hand on her friend's shoulder and explains "At first, yeah, he did. But who do you think pulled us up here?" She smiles at Asha, and gives her a wink.

Asha's eyebrows raise "Wait... So he changed his mind? How?" She asks confused

"Let's just say the king's mind control was no match for the power of friendship... Also Gabo kept screaming and swearing at him like a sailor." Hal said joyously.

"I told him bad words he didn't even know existed! And I'm literally younger than him!" Gabo says proudly while pulling a rope to tight up the Amaya's arms on her back.

"He can pull himself up the elevator, so he'll be here to help us pretty soon!" Safi comments.

Asha is happy that her friend came to his senses... But she still has a bad feeling.

"Did he say how much he told about the plan to Magnifico?" Asha asks Dahlia, with concern clear in her voice.

Dahlia's smile fades, she also seems worried "He doesn't know actually, he can't remember much about how the conversation went."

Asha looks down and thinks for a moment "... Okay, he didn't tell them about my pencil, so maybe he didn't tell them everything, we can still win." She smiles confidently.

Asha and the teens are suddenly startled once they hear a familiar voice shouting aaaaaall the way down the stairs of the palace:

"NO NO IT'S FINE, I CAN GET HIM UP THERE ON MY OWN! YOU ALL JUST SOUND THE TRUMPETS AND GATHER THE CITIZENS!" The king's voice echoes through the castle, he's talking to the guards in the entrance.

"Aster!" Asha exclaims worried.

The queen is all tied up, smiling in the background.

"I- I gotta go help him! You all stay here." Asha rushes to the door.

"Oh no we won't, we're not leaving your side again!" Dahlia exclaims holding her wrist.

"No, you don't understand, Magnifico CAN'T get even close to you all, not while he still has that staff, I won't let him hurt you." Asha explains to her friend with a serious expression "I'll find a way to save Aster and break it... Somehow." She doesn't sound so sure of herself, but she knows she has to try.

"And how can you do that?" Bazeema asks concerned

Asha holds her sketchbook and her pencil and starts drawing a key "I'll use my imagination" She smiles.

Asha pulls out the key from the page, she turns to tell her friends one last thing before leaving. But when she turns something catches her attention, on the king's desk there's a a small cloth bag full of blue sparkly sand, the bag is labeled "Fire Salamander Ashes". Asha takes the bag from the table and says quickly "Also this might come in handy."

She opens the door with her hand drawn key and tells her friends one last thing "No matter what you guys hear, don't leave the room." She runs down the long flight of stairs.

Meanwhile Magnifico is dragging Aster up the stairs, the king looks exhausted as he tries to perform a teleportation spell to get them to the top, but he can only teleport a few steps up.

"ARGH I'm gonna give myself a splitting headache because of you!" Magnifico says, with a hand over his forehead, he speaks to himself under his breath "Never had to teleport so many times in one day, thought such a simple spell wouldn't exhaust me that much..."

Aster hears that, he's still struggling to not get dragged away by the king as he exclaims "If just teleporting a bunch of times to get us here gives you a headache then you REALLY not gonna like what'll happen if you get my magic!" This isn't a bluff, but an actual warning, as Aster remembers what the stars told him... Maybe he can convince Magnus to stop "LISTEN! My powers may seem weak now, but even the most powerful of sorcerers couldn't handle the power of a star inside them, it's TOO MUCH for a normal human to handle!"

"Yeah well, good thing I'm no normal human." The king says with a frustrated expression while dragging the star up the stairs.

"YES YOU ARE, MAGNUS!" Aster screams, trying to reach out for some sense of humanity inside him.

"Don't call me that." The king warns sternly, he's not looking at Aster as he speaks.

"You only have power at all because of that green gem on your staff. And even with it, you're not strong enough!" Aster continues while still getting dragged by the king

"I'd really not test my patience right now if I were you, boy." He sounds more and more angry.

"I'm trying to save you! If just performing a spell way too many times gives you a headache then MY POWER will make you LOSE YOUR MIND-" Aster tries to spell it out to Magn-

"AND I WOULD RATHER LOSE THAT THAN LOSING THE WOMAN I LOVE!" Magnifico shouts, now looking straight to the star behind him, enraged in a way the star has never seen before.

Aster goes silent, staring at the king in shock and... For the first time feeling like the man was 100% honest with him.

Magnus takes a few seconds to realize what he just said out of anger and exhaustion... He puts himself back together, straightening up his posture and taking a deep breath, before looking down to the star with his usual smile full of sarcasm "Thank you for the concern, Aster. Really appreciated, but you have nothing to worry you shinny little head about" He taps on the star's forehead with one finger "I've already planned on how to get myself a-... Let's say a "Power boost" before performing the spell to get your magic humhum" He chuckles lowly, excited to show the star what he means by that "Besiiiiiides, all the sorcerers that tried to yield the power of a star only went mad because they tried to do it on their own, while I have someone to share it with."

Aster is dumbfounded... The king KNEW that the power of a star can drive someone mad... And he choses to go after it anyway because he THINKS that by sharing it with his wife they'll be fine?... Aster realizes he is too far gone.

"Nothing I say is gonna change your mind, is it?" Aster asks with frustration in his voice, the king simply shakes his head "no" with a smug "... Then you don't love her at all, you just wanna use her to get more power." The star says with a scowl.

The king is stunned for a second by the gall the star has to say that, before his rage comes back at full force, he doesn't take his eyes off the star as he makes shock waves of pain go through Aster's body again, the star kneels down in agony.

"ASTER?!"

Asha's voice comes from the top of the stairs, surprising both the star and the king, but they're surprised for completely different reasons.

Aster looks up to the top of the stairs with a huge smile despite the pain he's in right now "ASHA!"

The king however turns to her in bewilderment "YOU?! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALI-" He stops as he has a realization... His face turns into a cold glare, hiding a hint of worry in his voice "Where's Amaya?"

Asha ignores the king's question, as she's already drawing the first thing that came into her head to stop him.

She throws out of her sketchbook what she just drew and...

A hand drawn piano manifests right above the king

"WHAT THE-"

BLAAAAAAM

The piano fell on the king. And keep in mind Simon didn't mention the magic pencil, so from Magnifico's perspective Asha just randomly manifested a piano out of nowhere.

Aster is free from the king's restraints, and he quickly flies up to Asha and gives her a hug, Asha hugs him back and the two have a second to breathe and be relieved that they're both okay.

"I was so worried about you! Are you okay?" Asha asks holding his face with both her hands.

"I'm the one who should be asking that!" Aster sounds worried sick.

"I'm fine, the others saved me from the queen, she's all tied up. Now we gotta focus on breaking that staff" She looks down the stairs to the destroyed hand drawn piano that the king is under "Do you think that was enough to knock him out?"

Asha's question is immediately answered by the remains of the piano being engulfed by green magic. It begins to float as the king violently throws it out of the stairs.

(Yeah sorry, he's unfortunately fine, because cartoon logic and this ending would be underwhelming.)

They can hear the loud sound of the piano falling on the ground bellow, as well as the sound of the king practically roaring in anger. He gives the two teens a death glare while trying to stand up.

"NOPE!" Aster answers, holding her in his arms, Aster flies as fast as he can up the stairs, fast enough that the king doesn't have time to catch them with his magic.

He does however have enough energy to do one simple spell. He snaps his finger, which locks all the doors that lead to the wishes room.

Asha and Aster are in the treasure room, the dimly lit room where Magnifico and Amable sang "Wish Away" to her.

The two of them are startled when the entrance they just went through shuts behind them and one second later the exit does too, they're trapped in the dark and large room full of treasure exposed like a museum.

But Aster quickly comes up with a solution.

"I-I'ts okay, I can unlock the door!" The star reaches out to use their magic, but Asha holds his arm.

"No! We can't keep running away from him, otherwise we'll lead him straight to the study, to where my friends are." She explains to Aster with concern, but also determined to fight back instead of running.

"Then what do we do?" Aster asks her quickly.

"I- I... I have a plan." Her face lights up with an idea, as she holds the star's hands "I don't have much time to explain so pay attention-"

"Oooooh Asha~" The king's voice comes from the other side of the door, he's getting closer.

Asha holds the star by the wrist and guides him to hide behind one of the many artifacts in the room "Aster- Turn into your human disguise NOW." They're now crouched down, hiding behind a small pillar with an old vase on it.

Aster is confused "What?? But I can't use my powers when I'm in that form." Aster explain nervously as they hear the king's footsteps approaching

"You can't glow either, you need to stop glowing so we can hide in the dark." She whispers quietly, her glance is practically rushing the star to just do as she says.

Aster doesn't know what she's planning but he trusts her wholeheartedly. He quickly goes from a 2D drawing with shiny hair to a 3D animated character like Asha, with normal blonde hair.

"Okay, so what do we do no-"

They hear the door opening.

The two teens keep their mouths shut.

"... Playing hide-and-seek again, little star?" Magnifico's voice echoes through the room, he lets out a low chuckle and says "Alright, let's play one last game."

Aster and Asha are staring at each other, it's dark but they can see one another thanks to the dim blue lighting above the treasure they're hiding behind. They hear the king's foot steps as he slowly walks around the room looking for them.

Asha can feel her heart pounding, how can she tell the plan to Aster if they can't speak?

...

She remembers they both know how to communicate without speaking.

She begins to speak in sign language, Aster can see her hands under the dim light:

"I'll make a distraction, while you take this and spread it all over the floor when he's not looking" She signs and takes from her belt the bag of blue dust she took from the king's desk.

Aster doesn't understand what that is or how she can distract him at all, he signs to her back "How are you gonna distract him?"

She's about to sign to answer his question, but then the king begins to speak casually

"Ya know, Asha. I'm actually so glad you evaded Amaya's trap, truly I am." We see the king looking at his own reflection in one of the artifacts in the room, not really in a hurry to find them "For you see, I have a little secret I wanted to share with you... Wanna know what it is?"

Asha obviously doesn't respond, she's holding her sketchbook and pencil like she's preparing to draw something, she tries her best to focus and ignore whatever the king is talking about.

"Your grandfather's wish." Asha's eyes widen, she stops drawing "The very thing that started all this... Yeah, me and my wife miiiiiight have told you a little fib, shocker I know heheh" he jokes, as they both know all they've done is lie to her from the start "But I decided to come clean, since I happen to actually remember now what his wish was: "To inspire the people of Rosas with my songs"" The king quotes what the wish was, with a clear tone of disdain.

Asha feels like everything fell into place... Saba really was just like her... Or maybe she was a lot like him. This is probably the first time anything the king says brought her a sense of actual comfort.

Aster is surprised as he himself didn't know what Sabino's wish to the king was, but by pure coincidence it's the same thing he guided Asha to do.

But the king obviously is not sharing that to give her a wholesome moment or anything, he continues with a smirk "I'm sure now you see that I did him a favor by never granting that wish."

Asha's face becomes an angry glare. And she begins to draw something in her sketchbook quickly.

The king can hear the sound of the pencil sliding on the paper, and he follows it while speaking calmly "I mean, if I did grant it, he could've ended up crossing the line... Like you did."

Aster notices he's getting closer and looks at Asha anxiously as if to rush her to finish what she's drawing already. Asha looks like she's almost done.

"And when you cross the line..." Magnifico grin widens, he get's closer to the sound and...

He sees Aster dragging Asha to a different hiding place as fast as he can, but not fast enough.

Magnifico uses his magic to grab Asha with a giant hand.

"AAAAGH!" Asha screams as the king raises her up.

"NO!" Aster yells in desperation

"THERE ARE CONSEQUENCES!" Magnifico says with a twisted glee, and he throws the girl all the way to the other side of the room.

Aster runs to where she is, but to no avail as Magnifico holds him with his magic. The man is laughing maniacally as he walks to the girl.

"Ha ha aaah and it looks like I win our little game, now who would've thought?" Aster is struggling to free himself from the king's magic while Asha is laying on the floor, looking up in fear "But I'm afraid you won't get to see what happens next, my dear." He grins as he points his staff to her, but just when he's about to charge up an attack-

"W-wait!" Asha exclaims, looking up terrified "... Can I just a-ask one thing?"

The king raises one eyebrow "Your last words? Hmm it's cliche, but oh alright I'll allow it, what is it?" He asks with a relaxed smile.

Asha looks down defeated "I- I just wanted to say..."

She looks back up to him with a smug.

"I got way better at drawing self portraits, didn't I?" "Asha" asks full of confidence.

Magnifico's evil smile disappears, replaced by a face of pure confusion, completely taken aback by the girl's random comment.

"Wha-"

"Oh yeah! You look amazing, and I look pretty good too." "Aster" comments cheerfully, still tied by Magnifico's magic, but he doesn't seem to care at all anymore.

The king turns to the star in confusion, not understanding what these kids are talking about... But he notices something he didn't see before because of how dark the room is... "Aster" is black and white.

Before he has time to fully process that, the two living drawings smile at him while going from 3D animated, to 2D, to looking like rough sketches, until they both disappear completely.

... He got tricked.

"Hey Mag!"

Asha's voice comes from behind him. He turns around in shock, and sees the REAL Asha and Aster as standing in front of the now open exit. Aster is back to his 2D glowing self, and he's holding a now empty cloth bag.

The floor is shining with blue dust all over it.

"Here's a little trick your wife taught me!" Asha exclaims with a defiant smile, and she throws a hand drawn fireball from her sketchbook.

The fire hits right in front of Magnifico. A large black and white flame grows, it looks like scribbles one would draw on paper, but it shines and burns just as much as normal fire, and it's spreading all around him.

Magnifico get's so startled by the fire that he finally lets go of his staff for a second.

And that second is all that Aster needed. The star stretches his arm all the way to the other side of the room, grabbing the staff and bringing it to them.

(I mentioned on Aster's "How I'd Reimagine the Characters in Wish" blog that he could stretch his body, but he kinda never used this ability, so what better moment to have him use it than now)

"No-NO WAIT!" Magnifico is trying to avoid the flames as he begs.

Aster spins the staff in the air before HITTING IT ON THE FLOOR with all the strength he can manage.

"AAAGH!" Magnifico quivers and yells in pain.

The gem is broken.

Asha and Aster run out of the room, and Aster locks the door behind them with his magic.

They can hear the king's painful screams coming from the other side of the door...

The two run up the stairs that leads to the wishes room, Asha is breathless as they stop in front of the door of the king's study.

"... We did it? We won?" Asha asks almost in disbelief, but with a smile already beginning to form in the corners of her lips

Aster looks to the staff now with no green gem on his hands, and let's go of it, letting it fall on the floor, he looks to her with a bright smile "... Yeah, it's over!"

Asha hugs him and laughs in relief. Aster holds her tightly while spinning her in the air.

"That was GENIUS!" Aster exclaims once he stops spinning "You finally figured out how to draw yourself!" he sounds proud of her, as he knows that was a skill Asha always struggled with.

"All I needed was to understand what I was drawing... And now I do." Asha says with a warm smile, placing a hand on her chest, reflecting on how this whole experience helped her understand who she really is.

She pulls Aster by the hand for them to go through the door of the wishes room. "Come on! Let's go tell the others."

Once she opens it, they see her friends all around the door waiting for them, Gabo is holding the sword Amaya was fighting with earlier, like he's ready to attack if who came in was Magnifico.

"ASHA!" They all scream in excitement and relief. Everyone rushes for a group hug

Including someone who wasn't with them earlier, but managed to pull himself up the rope elevator.

"YOU GUYS ARE OKAY!" Simon exclaims, embracing the whole group with his big arms.

Asha is smiling despite almost suffocating in the group hug "Heheh yup, we're fine, but we still got some wishes to free!"

Her friends let go of the hug, fully focused on the task at hand.

"Right! Aster, give us a lift to the ceiling will ya? There are some pulleys up there, that must be how we can open it!" Gabo exclaims, pointing to the top of the wishes room.

"Oh-ho! A few lift ups coming right up!" Aster says cheerfully, and uses his star dust on a few of the king's books, making them float to the wishes room, just waiting for the teens to get on them so they're lifted up there.

The teens run to the wishes room, Asha stays behind in the study for a moment to see... The queen is all tied up, looking at her in horror.

"Where is Magnus?"

If it was anyone else Asha would probably feel sorry for her, but this woman deserves no sympathy. So Asha just says with frankness "Burning down stairs. You're a widow, again. Consider that my wedding anniversary gift."

(Yeah I couldn't fit anywhere else so here's a reminder that back in chapter 2 Dahlia's mom said they had to go to the market to get her some ingredients, because she had to make a cake for the king and queen's wedding anniversary, and guess what? That is TODAY! So uuuuh yay tying up with the 100 anniversary disney movie theme... Also they kinda canceled the celebration for obvious reasons.)

The queen holds in a gasp, as if her cold heart just shattered.

Dahlia was next to her friend and is surprised by her tone "Woah Asha, I know she's evil but y-"

"They killed my parents, Dahlia." Asha puts it simply to her best friend while walking to the wishes room to join the others.

"THEY WHA- OOOH That's what you GET you WITCH!" Dahlia shouts in Amaya's face, now fully on board with Asha.

(I love that witch is the closest I can get to have them calling her the B word)

We see Gabo, Dario, Safi, Hal and Bazeema all being lifted up by the books, as there are 5 pulleys for each one of them to pull.

Aster is flying around the wishes, looking in amazement to the blue ones, and holding the green ones, which makes them turn back to their original blue color, un-cursing them. He is flying around repeating the process on as many as he can.

Asha looks up to her friends and the wishes, she smiles in relief that everything is finally falling into place... But then she notices Simon is standing in the corner of the room, his eyes are downcast.

Asha walks to him "Simon, you okay?" She asks him worriedly.

Simon doesn't even know where to begin his apology, for everything. He looks at her full of regret "Asha... I'm sorry, I am so so sorry." He begins, Asha looks to him and listens attentively "I don't expect you to forgive me. I was so scared that we could get hurt- I just- I couldn't believe that everything we knew was a lie" he begins to tear up "... And I wanted so badly to believe in him-"

Asha gives him a hug.

"... You were hurting in silence for so long because of the things he did... And I was too, we all were." Asha says calmly, trying to reassure her friend "What matters is that he's gone now, he can't hurt us anymore."

Simon has tears running down his face but he hugs her with a smile.

Aster flies closer to them, holding a wish bubble "And I think THIS belongs to you!" The star says warmly

Simon and Asha still can't see what's inside the bubble, but just by getting close to it Simon can feel it "My wish?" Simon asks in surprise "... No, I don't deserve it, I put all of us in danger and-."

"Everyone deserves to know their wish" Aster tells him with a bright smile "He tricked you, so what? Happens to the best of us, literally happened with me today"

"The important thing is that you see the truth now." Asha says, she looks at Simon and then at the wish with a smile, as if to encourage him to get it.

And he does so, reaching out for the bubble, and once he holds it reveals the image of Simon wearing knights clothes... Simon's smile is replaced by disappointment.

"Well... This is awkward." He says letting go of his floating wish "That's not what I wish for anymore... Guess I can't have it back."

"Hey now, that's not how it works." Asha smiles as she holds his wish "It's not about what the wish IS, it's about what it MEANS." She repeats what Aster told her back in the cave when they were talking about her wish, the star smile widens at that. Asha continues to explain "Sure, on the surface it may look like all you wish for is serve the king... But there's so much more to it than that." She places the wish in his hands "You wish to protect those you care about, like you've been trying to protect us this whole time, because even without your wish, THAT'S who you are. This wish is what makes you... YOU." Simon's smile returns "And NO ONE should live a life without being themselves fully." She finishes, her eyes sparkling with joy for her friend finally getting his wish back.

"... Thank you." Simon takes his wish and brings it to his chest, it is quickly absorbed.

Immediately there's a change in him, the bags under his eyes are gone, he gets a better posture as his back becomes straight, his smile widens once he realizes for the first time in 3 years he's not feeling exhausted.

"Woah... I forgot how this felt like heh" Even his voice is more full of life now.

"Uuuuh hate to interrupt the wholesome moment, but we're having some trouble up here!" Gabo's voice comes from above them.

Asha, Aster and Simon look up, seeing that the teens are struggling to pull the ropes to open the ceiling

"Do you think you can use your magic to open it, Aster?" Asha asks him

"Those panels are waaay too heavy for my dust to make them float..." They explain disappointedly

"We need more weight..." Hal says, she looks down and thinks for a moment, and an idea pops in her head "Alright! Who here ever wished to be an acrobat?" She asks them excitedly while preparing to jump with the rope tied to her hand

"What are you doing???" Safi asks her worried

"Follow my lead! YOOHUUUL!" She jumps with the rope, pulling the triangular plate from the ceiling right open.

All the teens understand the plan, as Dario doesn't hesitate and jumps right after her, followed by Bazeema, Safi and lastly Gabo.

The ceiling is open.

Asha is jumping with joy as the wishes begin to fly out of the castle.

"Well done guys! You're ready Aster?" She asks the star thrilled

Aster is just as thrilled as her when they answer "I fell down here ready!"

He flies up to the middle of all the wishes. The star focus his magic and opens his arms wide, magically turning all the green bubbles into blue ones.

The teens and Asha clap and cheer from bellow. While Bazeema is holding Valentino in her arms.

Aster looks beyond relieved he was able to actually do this... After this, Asha's wish will be granted.... And even if that means he'll have to leave, he couldn't be happier that he could give that to her.

Aster prepares to send all the wishes back to Rosas "And now! Time to return you all to who you belon-"

(*siiiiiiiiigh* ... I hate myself for what I'm about to do with these kids)

...A giant green orb holds all the wishes...

Aster sees he's surrounded by dark magic. He is mortified by fear.

And so is Asha as we see her and the teens looking up in horror... The magic that created the orb came from behind them.

Asha can't move, she doesn't want to turn around, but she hears that condescending voice she thought she'd never hear again... And he sounds very excited about his big entrance:

"Surprise~ Did you miss me?." Magnifico's voice echos, and all the 7 teens turn around to see who they already know who it is.

King Magnifico is completely unharmed, holding the staff with no green gem on it with one hand, while hugging a now untied Amaya with the other, they're both smiling deviously at the frightened teens.

Asha hasn't turned around yet.

"I certainly did, darling. Although, I didn't doubt you'd come back for a second." The queen says honestly, as that heartbroken expression she made earlier was just an act, she knew Magnifico had a precaution in case they got his staff.

Asha finally turns around, she's trying to hide her fear as she speaks "How? W-We broke the gem from your staff, how did yo-"

"Oh you mean this gem?" Magnifico says casually while pulling a glowing emerald from inside his vest... The actual gem from his staff.

Asha is stunned, and so is Aster, watching them from the bubble, trying to get out.

"Fun fact about magic power sources, kiddos." He explains like he's teaching a class, while placing the gem back into the staff "Although it is easier to use them in an amulet or staff, if you have it with you anywhere then its magic can still be used however you please." He fits the gem back into its original place, finishing his little explanation "And that includes making it LOOK like the magic is coming from a fake power source, such as that one you broke down stairs." He smiles at Asha triumphantly.

"... You knew we were planning to break it." Asha already suspected it from the moment Amaya told her Simon betrayed them... But she was hoping maybe he didn't say that part of the plan, or the king was too full of himself to come up with a precaution.

The two royals are walking towards them as the queen says "Of course. Thank you so much for the tip, Simon, we really couldn't have done it without you." Her voice once again has a mocking motherly tone to it as she speaks to the oldest of the group, who looks like he wants to burry himself on the ground right now with all the regret he feels.

"I- I DON'T REMEMBER TELLING THEM THAT!" Simon exclaims to his friends, who are all looking at him with sadness in their eyes, except for Gabo who looks ready to kick his kneecaps

"Well you were rather sleepy, perhaps it slipped your mind heheh" The king's eyes glow green, just to indicate what he did.

The two of them are approaching, but Asha is not about to just stand by and let them win like that, she's in front of her friends as she prepares to draw-

"Ooooh no you don't." Magnifico uses his staff to snatch the sketchbook off her hands

"NO!" Asha tries holding it with all her strength, but it's no use, as the sketchbook flies straight to the king's hand.

And just like that, Magnifico summons a green flame with his hand and burns the sketchbook.

Asha feels tears form on the corner of her eyes as she watches all her drawings burn in front of her.

She still has her pencil though, which she discreetly hides inside her sleeve.

"Welp, this was fun and all, but I think it's high time we get to the main event of the night." Magnifico says as he and his wife walk, looking up to the trapped star above them, who has been throwing himself on the walls of the large bubble all this time trying to get out.

Asha wipes away the tears forming in her eyes, she's NOT letting them win, she's not letting them get Aster.

"ASTER! Can you hear me!?" The star stops trying to get out and looks down to her, nodding "yes". So she continues to shout "If you get ANY chance to escape, do it! GO BACK TO THE SKY!" She begs him, knowing that's the only way to protect him and Rosas "Don't look back! It doesn't matter if my wish isn't granted! I just need you to be safe!"

Aster is looking down to her already with tears in his eyes. She's saying pretty much the same thing he asked to that illusion the king created in the woods...

And said king is standing right behind her "Giving up at last? Good. But I'm afraid our star is not going anywhere." He grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her closer to him, threatening to use his magic on her while looking up to Aster with a threatening smile "If he does, I might take my anger out on someone else, and we wouldn't want that, would we Aster?"

Aster looks down shaking in fear, his animation is more sketchy... He can't do it, he can't leave her.

Asha get's out of the king grasp and turns to him in defiance, refusing to show weakness "I'm not giving up! And neither will anyone else in Rosas, even if you get Aster's power, they will NEVER knell to you!"

Magnifico and Amable just look really amused and even intrigued by her boldness, after everything she still has spirit... And they can't wait to break it.

Magnifico leans down to look at her angry eyes "You really think so?" His eyes move away from hers, and he changes his focus to the 7 teens "Hmm let's test that theory..." He begins to walk towards them, ignoring the girl "Ooh Simon~ I believe you just stole something of mine-"

Asha doesn't think twice before holding him by the cape and pulling it.

"Leave them alone! I'm not letting you hurt them-"

Magnifico holds her with his magic and THROWS Asha to the bookshelves on the wall, the girl screams in pain upon impact and falls on the floor.

Aster can't be heard from the bubble but he's clearly screaming. While the teens gasp in fear.

"Frankly Asha, you REALLY should start worrying about yourself once in a while." He says sarcastically while turning back to the other teens, specifically to Simon.

Asha is laying on the floor in pain, but she sees the books that fell down from the bookshelf... Paper.

That's all she needed.

"Now where was I? Ah yes, you stole a wish from me." He chuckles darkly and speaks in mocking reprehending tone "Tsk tsk tsk first you break your end of our deal and now this? Asha really is such a bad influence."

Simon is no longer scared, but rather furious with every word the king just said "This wish is MY wish! And YOU are the one who broke the deal! You said Asha wouldn't get hurt!"

"Ah ah ah wrong in both instances. First of all: I said IF you kept all your friends locked up, then I, as in ME, Magnifico, wouldn't hurt her... But my dear wife promised you nothing, sooo really it's your fault for forgetting she existed, young man." He explains smugly.

"Indeed, how dare you?" Amaya complements, like she's offended he forgot about her.

Asha is quietly ripping off a page from a book on the floor. She tries to think on something to draw... But nothing comes up, her head is pounding in pain after being thrown to the bookshelf. And all the ideas that do come in her head just sound too risky, if she messes up the king will break her pencil.

"And second of all: ... I believe you misunderstand what I actually DO, Simon. So allow me to explain." His voice is more menacing this time as he approaches them, Simon has his arms open to shield his friends behind him "When you give me your wish, you're not just lending it to me, no no no, you GAVE it to me... So I can do whatever I want with it."

That get's Asha's attention as she tries to get up, using the desk to balance herself.

"No one agreed to tha-"

"SO" The king interrupts Simon and places a hand on the young man's chest, surprising him and all the others "If I say I want to change your wish, I will. If I say I don't want your wish to be granted, then it won't be" A blue light starts glowing on Simon's chest, the boy looks scared at the king smiling deviously to him "... And if I say I want your wish BACK"

He pulls out Simon's wish. Simon immediately feels himself grow weaker.

"Then I'll take it back." Magnifico says simply while looking at the blue orb.

Simon feels hopeless, the fire he had in his eyes a moment earlier is all gone.

Asha sees this happening all the way back in the king's study, she hides the piece of paper she got inside her sleeve. She's still trying to stand up as she asks.

"Y-you ugh- You can STEAL people's wishes?!"

"Oh I "wish" heheh" He laughs at his own joke "But nah, I can only take back from those who have given it to me once willingly." He holds Simon's wish in his hand with a smirk "Now the question is... What should I do with this one?" It's a sarcastic question, as he knows exactly what he'll be doing with it.

Simon is horrified, thinking the king will change his wish into something else, maybe even control him.

"Ah I know, how about a little demonstration of what happens with wishes in this real world? heheh" His grip begins to tighten on Simon's wish.

Simon gasps in pain as his legs go weak, his friends all worriedly ask what's going on with him and try to help him stand up.

"They get CRUSHED." The king destroys Simon's wish. Absorbing it's energy like it's the most wonderful sensation going through his veins.

Simon collapses, his knees on the floor as his face is now lifeless.

His eyes are unfocused. He's catatonic.

"Si-simon?" Dahlia tries to shake him to wake him up, but he's not responding, he's just breathing.

Asha is still in the king's study, shaking her head "no" in disbelief.

Magnifico pulls her back to the wishes room with his magic.

"What was that you said about Rosas "never kneeling to me", Asha?" He says smugly, pointing to Simon kneeling in front of them.

"What did you do with him?!" Asha is struggling to get out of his magic's grip

Magnifico just ignores the question and lets go of her, as he walks to the center of the circular room.

But Amaya gladly explains with a wicked smile "Have you forgotten what kind of wishes he takes? Your deepest desire that shows who you ARE, one might even call it... Your soul." Asha and the other teens look at her shocked. "Or at least HALF of it, people still need the other half to keep living or whatever." She finishes dismissively

Magnifico hits the floor with his staff, sending magic waves all around the room. And before they know it the whole room is being lifted up.

He then turns to Asha with a menacing grin "And ya know, your sweet little star did mention I'd have to be very powerful in order to sustain his magic... So take a wild guess where I'm getting that extra power from." He gives her a clue by looking up, as if he's pointing to the wishes trapped above them with his eyes.

Asha looks up at all the wishes and then to him in disbelief "No... You can't- They didn't do anything- They don't deserve-"

"I decide what everyone deserves." He puts it simply with a grin, as they reach the top of the tower.

Chapter 16

Final Thoughts

... So... How many of you fell for it? I mean, maybe it just felt like an obvious fake out death to me because I'm the twisted and sleep deprived mind that came up with it, but come oooon ya'll didn't think I'd only end ONE of them, right?

But if you're DONE with Magnifico and Amable, don't worry I am too, can't wait for them to be defeated next chapter, for real this time, no cap, we'll get a happy ending for our traumatized heroes I swear.

But let me lighten the mood with an imagery that cracks me up every time I think about it... Magnifico sneaking in the room while Asha is having her little speech with Simon.

Like dude just got in like:

Then he unties Amaya and listens as Asha is like "He's gone now, he can't hurt us anymore" and they're both thinking like "OOOH WE GONNA HURT THEM SO BAD LMAO" like the abusive parental figures they are, because that's what they represent by the way, they're like Mother Gothel and the whole population of Rosas is Rapunzel.

Asha is better than me by the way, like, if I saw this man alive again after ALL that I'd just do like Bravo and jump off the window. But she just keeps going, keeps finding new ways to fight back, I love my girl so much, like, you guys may think I hate her for putting her through this, but I can't wait for us to get to her happy ending! BUT I CAN'T RUSH IT OTHERWISE IT'LL RUIN THE WHOLE THING.

Anyway, this is already way too long, pray for Aster, I think ya'll can guess what'll happen to him next chapter, and pray for Rosas, because Magnifico will not be making them knell down by being chaining them to the ground like in the movie... Sooo yeah.

Thank You For Reading!

[yanderenightmare]

im with anon, i'll take 500 words or less! anything you have of nasty shigaraki to spare, i'll gladly take with a smile:) also, kinda unrelated, but maybe not ;) iv'e never seen you do soulmate aus?

BNHA ! IMAGINE

Shigaraki Tomura x darling

I love soulmate aus! But only when I give them my own awful unromantic spin. 

TW: soulmate au, yandere, implied noncon/dubcon

I like to think the words written on your arm are “Why aren’t you dead?” and the fear you felt in your heart when you first heard them being spoken – lying naked in the decay of a city Tomura had just leveled with the single touch of his fingertips. Followed shortly by the sound of your voice cracking into a scream and a cry when you cough up those few pitiful words written on his arm – “No, please, no!”

I like to think Tomura hates you for making him go through his entire life, knowing those were the first words his soulmate would ever say to him – and how he’s going to torture you for it by forcing you into doing nightmarish versions of all those romantic clichés soulmates usually do.

You try to run even knowing how silly it was, crawling barefoot over sharp crumbling debris with your heart in your throat. He grabs you with ease and takes you home – each wrist and ankle tied tight to the other, a piece of ripped cloth gagging you, and a sack pulled over your head – your naked skin dusty with ashes of people and buildings laid to waste while he holds you in a bridal carry.

You were thrown on the bed with a startled yelp, bouncing on the springy mattress for a moment before stilling and sinking – swearing that the soft feel of it was moist and clammy to the touch, clinging to your skin while slowly swallowing you -and stuffy as though a million spores had just burst upon your impact, spewing out a thick fermented stench that stuck in your throat like a coat of slime.

You heard a door being locked and a key being hidden before feeling his presence crawl over you again where you lay, tied up and shaking. 

Your hood disintegrated a moment later, leaving you to stare up into those beady red eyes.

“Psh-” He scoffed, having cast a glance over your face, from the teary streaks running through the ashy dust on your cheeks to the shifty whimpers leaving your lips. “Who would’ve guessed my soulmate would be a pretty thing like you?” 

You swore it sounded less like a compliment and more like a jeer while his dry lips further cracked when stretched over the horrid smile that soon broke across his face – sharp like jagged shards of glass you feared would cut you. You shriveled in sight of it, feeling all types of gross and all types of dread twisting your gut as his hand, pale and dry like the rest of him yet unexpectedly warm, started to touch.

Your eyes swiveled with dread, spinning while eerily watching him and how his own two followed the path of his hand. Beginning at your neck in slow fascinated strokes – all five fingers with crass fissures scratching down your jugular and collarbones, making your breath hitch. Drawing down your body with a deepening sense of ownership.

And all you were left to do was chew the cloth spreading your teeth and lips, wettening it with pitiful whimpers and cries. Hands wringing pointlessly, charred and aching from the strict bonds keeping them locked snug beneath you.

A sudden giggle sprung from him then. A dry type of snicker that came from somewhere raspy deep in his lungs. Almost sounding painful if it weren’t for the glistering gleam of something terribly perverted pooling in his eyes – and the tongue that suddenly swept up your face.

“Fate can be such a sweet bitch, can’t it?”

[ssaeri]

we fall to ashes

☆ tags: alex x gn!reader, he finds something that he never expected to see on your farm, this was going to be angst with an angst ending, but then my sister begged me to not write a sad ending, so have this relieving happy ending instead, LOTS of alex spoilers! ☆

Alex stretches his arms over his head and breathes in deep. In the distance, he hears chickens screaming—a sure sign that he's getting closer to your farm. The walk from his house isn't short, but while his grandparents would complain about the distance, he finds it ideal for cooling down after his harder work-outs. And he gets to see you at the end? He'd say that's a winner winner chicken dinner situation...out of earshot from your coop, at least.

"Hey there! Evelyn's boy!" Pam calls from his right.

He slows to a stop and waves. She sits in the driver seat of her newly repaired bus, window fully open, and takes another swig from her Joja Cola. Immediately, her face scrunches.

"Mornin', Pam!" he yells back. "How's that alcohol detox going for you?"

"Awful." She smacks her lips and holds the can up to her eyes, searching the ingredients for what makes it so fucking nasty. You often joke that it's the bitter taste of capitalism. "I could go for something stronger in this heat. You think the farmer has an extra glass of pale ale?"

Alex's smile tightens. Ever since Pam and Penny's trailer turned into an actual house, Pam's been doing her best to break old habits and he's glad for it—he can finally walk by her without the reflexive gag and hurried steps. You telling me I stink? she used to ask, angry in her drunken stupor, until she remembered why he showed up on his grandparents' steps nearly two decades ago.

She must read it in his expression now because she waves him off with a roll of her eyes. "I'm kidding, kid. Tell 'em I said hi. They're the only one who takes this damn bus anyway. I might as well take a nap." She slides sunglasses onto her face and reclines her chair until he can't see her anymore. "If I'm still here by the time you go home, wake me up."

Classic Pam, he thinks as he continues to your farm. Your dog is already running from the front door to greet him, panting and barking and disturbing your horse's peace.

"Come on, buddy," he laughs, shooing your dog until he can push open the gate. "I was supposed to surprise them."

Alex scratches your horse's ear as he passes its stable. Grape vines twist and sag on the trellises you've set up for the season, the structures nearly bursting with fruit, and he makes a mental note to stop by tomorrow to help with the harvesting. Maybe it could substitute for a work-out. He's helped you ship boxes of produce before and wondered how ripped he'd be after a month of your lifestyle. Between the trellises, the melons are just starting to come in. He doesn't know how long it takes for them to ripen, only that they taste really good when you drop off a basket for his grandma.

He calls out your name. Not in the fields, not in the pasture. Your new greenhouse, maybe? You were muttering something about ancient fruit last night. Or the mushroom cave, something he still can't believe is a feature on your farm. If Demetrius could add that, maybe Alex could talk you into installing an outdoor lifting station.

He walks past your workbench and active machines...

...and walks backwards again, hoping that his eyes are deceiving him. Crystalariums reproducing diamonds to sell, charcoal kilns working double time for enough coal, bone mills churning out fertilizer, geode crushers crunching rocks into pebbles, furnaces roaring as they smelt ores into bars—and right on top of the furthest furnace sits a wrapped bundle he's only seen in his (second to) worst nightmares.

He hears your content humming now, somewhere in the main farmhouse. Under normal circumstances, he would've called it cute, but the sound rings mockingly in his ears as he approaches the darkened flowers. A wilted bouquet. Fuck.

.

.

"Oh, hey there!" Alex called out as you got closer. He tossed his ever-present gridball into the air. "You here to catch fish again? I think you can find salmon in the river this time of year. At least that's what I heard."

Once you came to a stop in front of him, you shook your head, hands still behind your back. "I'm not fishing today," you said. "I actually wanted to give you something."

"Yeah?" His lips quirked into a grin. Another toss into the air. "Wouldn't happen to be a Salmon Dinner with extra lemon, would it? Those are one of my favorites, but I can never catch any salmon myself. Another egg would be cool, too. I've been adding your weekly deliveries to my workout meals."

You only shifted from one foot to the other, unable to take your eyes off his shoes, and a part of him faltered. You weren't intimidated by him, were you? Ever since you found him crying on the beach, he had been a little more flirtatious than usual, layering on the teasing and showing off. Maybe he came on too strong. Haley always told him that subtlety wasn't his strong suit. The grip on his gridball changed as he tossed it higher.

"You okay there? Did I do something...wait, this is—ow!"

The ball bounced off his head and landed in the grass, but he couldn't care less. He pointed to the bouquet in your hands. Not a regular bouquet, but the Bouquet made to order by Pierre. In a place as small as Pelican Town, there was no need for Pierre to have it in constant stock, so when the signature blooms made the rare appearance, they attracted everyone's eyes.

"...you want to get more serious?" he asked, incredulous.

Something in your expression changed, and you drew the flowers back to your chest. "Oh, sorry, did you not?" You gave him a wide smile, already stepping away. "I must've read the signs wrong. My mistake."

"No! That's not—I mean, you read the signs correctly. I, uh, I feel the same way." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face flush. "So I guess we're together now? Should I be asking you out on a date or something? Or wait, are you asking me out on a date? How does this work?"

You laughed, a genuine sound this time. "We can continue the way we were before."

And so you did, but some things changed for sure. He could hold your hand now as you ran errands around the town, carrying half of the gifts you handed out to the townspeople. He could kiss you goodbye at his door in the evenings, though George cleared his throat loudly every time. Alex remembered making some snide comment about his grandpa, who yelled out a gruff I heard that! before being shushed by Evelyn. When It Howls in the Rain was being shown at the town theater, you bribed him to a screening with the promise of Stardrop Sorbet, but as much as he loved the treat, he would've gone anyway—it was one of his favorite movies with one of his favorite people. Good thing he'd seen it before because he spent most of the time staring at your side profile, wondering when he could finally go pro and have you stare at him on a screen.

.

.

Your dog nips at his fingers. He pets it absently. He thought everything was going fine between the two of you. Just yesterday, you came over and had dinner with him and his grandparents. You told them about your mining adventures in the Skull Caverns and, to his horror, showed off your old stitches from Harvey. (George chided your reckless behavior and gave old-timey advice that you nodded along to.) You talked about the new farm you're setting up at Ginger Island—Ancient Fruit wine all year! you told them excitedly. It's a farmer's heaven!—and the Beach Resort you're trying to restore. (Evelyn hummed at your energy, asking rapid-fire questions about the flora there.) You even promised to bring over a season's worth of eggs and leeks as soon as you got your hands on them. (Alex's mind flashed to the old mariner and the mermaid's pendant he could see hanging around your neck in the future.)

So why is a wilted bouquet sitting here, right on top of your furnaces?

No point in guessing when he can just find out the answer right from the source. He takes the flowers and goes to your door, knocking twice. It opens before he has time to second guess his choice.

"Alex! I didn't know you were coming over," you say, beaming at him. He wants to immortalize this version of you: face full of dirt smudges and t-shirt collar soaked through with sweat, yet glowing in your element. Until your eyes drop to his hands. "Oh, that's..."

He sets his jaw. "Can I come in and talk?"

Your expression falters further at his cold tone, but you step back and lead him to the living room. Your dog trots in and settles by the TV, head on its paws, watching with blank eyes. Alex sits in his usual spot and you yours, and suddenly he hates how familiar he is with your space.

It's still silent.

You clear your throat. "So," you start, wiping your palms on your jeans. A nervous tick he knows well. "What did you want to talk about?"

He puts the bouquet on the coffee table between you.

"Right." You pause, likely waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything. "Alex, can you at least be less mean about this? I feel like you owe me that much after all this time together." He says nothing. "Like, tell me what's wrong instead of sitting here stone-faced. Things were okay. Why are you breaking up with me—"

"Why am I breaking up with you?" He barks a laugh. "Baby, I found this outside on your furnace! I'm not going to beg for you to stay, but what the hell is this?"

Your forehead furrows. "What? I wouldn't."

"If it's not yours and it's not mine, then whose is it?"

"I don't know! Alex, I wouldn't—I never even thought about breaking up," you insist. "Why would I lie about that?"

After scrutinizing your stricken expression, his relief comes in waves. He sinks into your couch, hands rubbing at his face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just—" He laughs again, the sound mostly air. "Yoba, that scared me. If someone left this here as a prank, I'm hunting them down tonight." He lifts his head to look at you and opens his arms. "Can you come over here?"

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm gross."

"You could be playing in mud with your pigs, and I'd still jump in."

With a roll of your eyes, you hop over to curl into his side and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You stink, but so does he after a good workout. Now that he thinks about it, he's still in his gym clothes.

"You scared me, too," you tell him, gaze trained on the table. "Not the best thing to see on a Friday afternoon. But now I want to know whose this is. Did you check it for clues?"

"Didn't bother. Thought it was yours." His arm around your waist tightens as you lean forward. "Does it matter?"

But that doesn't stop you. You have the bouquet in your lap now, prying at the blackened ribbon and wrapping. "Look at this," you say, holding it between two fingers. "The ribbon isn't blue, and Pierre always uses blue. The wrap is pretty much disintegrated, but this corner—he always puts his store brand." You suck in a breath. "Oh, duh! Where did you say you found this?"

"The furnaces right outside by the workbench."

"Okay, so mystery solved. This is mine, but not in the way you think."

He raises an eyebrow. "Explain. Don't say you're breaking up with a secret partner because I don't think I can handle a second shock right now."

"I made a wildflower bouquet to put on Grandpa's grave a few days ago, but I totally forgot where I put it, so I made a second one. This one must've been the one I misplaced."

He blinks. "How the hell did you not notice it since?"

"I came back from Ginger Island yesterday and went to sleep right after dinner! The flowers must've wilted from the furnace heat."

"You," he says slowly, pinching your cheek and ignoring your squeak, "are the absolute worst. I can't believe you nearly broke my heart and it turned out to be a whoopsie."

[katentines]

future!leonardo x reader. tw; descriptions of gore, death and peepaw leo angst :3 does this count as a one-shot?

leonardo is awake tonight, his arm draped over his forehead. he is completely alone. exception to the low glow of a lamp on his face. complex emotions are unfolding unbidden.

he can hear thumps and cracks from outside the room, familiar to the strong workings and sharp pains of his heart. the ash still rustles, patters, and sighs. it’s a taunting echo of your footfall, every light step a second he won’t get back. leo’s chest pounds louder. the ash storm buffets, his breath colliding rhythmically with the booming of his migraine. it's loud. like an agitated heart. pains and aches everywhere. he hears a snort of laughter. it's not real. it's not... real.

"you're getting old..."

a man filled with delirium from lack of sleep can't help but dream of his lost lover. his vision is blurry, but in the corner of his eye stands a figure, leaning against the frame of the doorway. it's not you. it's not you.

"you haven't been sleeping again, i see."

he doesn't answer, and the blurry figure moves in front of him, ghosting it's fingertips over his jaw like how you used to. cradling his face, running a thumb over his lips.

"what happened to needing your beauty sleep, leo?"

you are long dead, he should not be able to feel these sensations, but his body intimately remembers your touch like a phantom wound. he closes his eyes. and even if he was talking to himself, he couldn't help but respond this time. his voice is broken, it's so sad.

"i'm so sorry..."

"it's okay, leo. you're okay."

it's okay. it's... okay. he's—his eyes open wide, and he jolts up as if he had just been shot. your figure vanishes away like a wisp. and leo is once again forced back into reality. the reality that he will never be able to feel your true touch, and he will never wake up beside your forgiving gaze again. the feeling of you in his arms is something on the list of many things he will never have again. you're dead. and you're gone. it's not real. he has to remind himself. and his mind flashes to the night where he couldn't save you. against his will it replays in his head. flashbacks of you falling granted by some unknown force as an unholy gift.

a fate which made you beg for death. after feeling pressured by the eyes of a true monster peering through you and festering underneath your skin, writhing like worms through your sinews, rippling through your veins and kissing at each inch of the intricate maze under your skin until it threatened to break and face the sun. overcoming you to a madness. it laid itself where it could. your organs. behind your eyes, in your brain. in the deep layers. pulling your limbs apart with the power of a village, gnawing at your flesh to take as its own. with a smell that had made you want to vomit. it was dizzy. you wanted to scratch at your skin until it escaped.

eventually, you were unable to feel it after a sharp stab through your chest. your last heartbeat, your last breath. you began to see hallucinations. unable to see the world for how it really was. you lived in a blissful hallucination for a few moments. living in a distant dream, where none of this happened. a little world where you got to start a family, make a home. where you were safe. safe, because he was there. safe, he always was, leo. it didn't hurt, this dream. you knew it wasn't real, and perhaps it was selfish to feel so... so accepting of death, but fuck, did it feel nice. for once, you weren't in pain. were you smiling?

it was bitter sweet. it was beautiful. your skin split open, blooming outward like petals. blood sparkling like rain as it returned to the dirt. to be consumed by fungi that would continue the decomposition cycle with your marrow in its veins. eyes that were carefully embedded into your skin screaming as leo's ōdachi went right through your heart like cupid's arrow. they all looked at him. taunting. so, so taunting. it was like the kraang was laughing right at his face as it ripped you away from him.... you. you were gone. he felt his limbs go numb, he couldn't breath, he couldn't breath. he—oh, God. he couldn't fucking breath. donatello had to drag him away, but he was yelling the whole time.

and donatello, in an attempt to comfort his brother, he called your death something strange.

he called it... mercy.

[mist-see]

You don’t deserve mercy.

quaritch vs na’vi reader

After months of grieving your loved one, Neteyam, you hear gun shots. You found out spider saved his father. You make sure that he’s dead this time.

I love violence.

I have no beef for spider, he’s a good kid.

⚠️Warning ⚠️

Graphic descriptions of death, cursing, blood, the anger of losing someone, murder, and normalize women being pissed angry, violent angry. I felt like I could’ve gotten way more graphic, but for the sake of not wanting to get in trouble, I mellowed it down.

“I will bite your ear off and feed it to my ikran!” You bared your teeth, your four canines sharp and long, blood covering them as one of the ski people busted your lip before hand. Quaritch just laughs in your face.

Your anger amused him. Mostly because he knew he was going to die. It was a laughter of disappointment and rage, he was going to die, and he only got to kill one of the sullies. How pathetic of himself.

“Don’t bother having conversation with me, either kill me or get killed, we got this island surrounded with avat-ar!” Your red eyes widen, 3 sharp nails digging their way into the skin of the old man’s neck, breaking the skin.

You were strong, stronger than the na’vis they fought. You were a freak of nature, a hybrid as your mother was from the clan of ashes, father from the Omatikaya clan.

He’s read about your kind, your mother, a leader before she married outside her clan. Your anatomy was different from the rest, made you tough, but not invincible .

At this moment you were thousands of feet in the air, above the deep water it took months for you to learn. Your ikran was stable and your arrow deep inside the gut of the person who killed your Neteyam. “Do not hesitate Y/N, kill him before he kills someone else!”

Jake watches from afar, feet planted on his skimwing and emptied gun gripped in his hand.

You’re growled at this, causing another choked laugh to leave the avatars mouth. “Don’t bother.”

“Uh!-“ you gasped. The sound was brutal, the noise of the knife digging into your gut. You breath hitched, suddenly being able to taste, and smell your blood so clearly.

Tears prickling your eyes as you felt the army knife shift in your stomach. He didn’t take the arrow to his stomach lightly you suppose. Your ikran screeched, the connection between the two of you strong. She starts losing her balance, the knife you took causing her to feel it. The knife only went deeper from the movement.

How could you be so stupid? So naive to think it would be an easy job. “Weak. Just like that poor son of a bitch that came from that tree monkey down in the ocean.”

“Y/N!” Jake screamed through your ear piece as he watched your legs buckle, but never completely giving.

You would never kneel below this colonizing creature.

Quaritch heard it Crystal clear, having stole Neytiris ear piece awile ago.

“I will not die here. I will not die by the hands… of some foul demon who wants to live like us. To breathe- our air. I won’t!” You clinched your teeth, knees weak as you gripped the knife that pierced your large intestines. With a scowl, the man watched as you slowly remove the knife.

It wasn’t the size as a normal knife, no, it was bigger, meant to fit the hands of an army veteran that changed species.

Disgust on his face, he hissed, but your hand was still tight on his neck, never wavering, only getting tighter. His neck bled from the holes you made.

You stared deep into his eyes, his face close to yours, he could feel your chess grumble with a growl as the knife left you. “You can’t be that stupid kid. You’ll bleed out before you could do anything.”

“Don’t underestimate a true na’vi, demon. I am not weak. And neither was Neteyam.” Before he could even struggle to get out of your grip, you slammed him against your Ikrans back, this made her screech in complaint, her wings loosing control from the connection of your queue. she could feel everything you felt.

“If I die, Eywa will reunite me with my Neteyam. You, will go to hell, burning like the demon you are.” You hissed in his face, large blue foot pushing the arrow into his stomach more, causing him to scream.

“I will cause you to suffer.” You growled through your teeth, bloodied hands tying your rope from the end of the arrow, then forcing him to turn to his side. You grunted in pain. “Fat fuck, heavy- like the chains that will be dragging your down to your fate.” You clinched your teeth, ignoring the screams from the weak man below you as you pushed the arrow through him, until it exited his back.

“AHH- you- bITCH!” He yelled in a foreign language, assuming it was English, you scoffed. “You see us as the villain. I will kill you as such. Right in front of your traitor son who left you alive!” This caused his smaller eyes to widen, but you already tied the rope at the start of the arrow.

“Y/N- where are you- are you okay?!” Lo’ak spoke through his ear piece, out of breath. “Lo’ak! Where are you?!” Jake was quick to respond back, gun now in the ocean as he road his skimwing as fast as he could to the shore. “With mom-“

“Take her to Ronal and quickly get to y/n, she’s been stabbed!” “What?!” They yelled in your ear, but you were only focused on one thing. Revenge.

“She-ri!” You gripped onto your ikran, sending her to go above the beach, the same one you and the sullies arrived on.

You will drop him, the rope held tight in your ikrans jaws. You will rip him to shreds, the arrow more than strong enough to hold his weight, to almost rip him in half, before ending his demise.

“Just-just kill me- don’t have to- to scare the boy like that- please!” He begged, grunting from the uneven flight path She-ri flew. Poor girl was in pain, she didn’t deserve to suffer when you did.

It would be over soon.

Grabbing the old man by his braid, making his seize up in pain.

You grit your teeth, blood leaking down your stomach, soaking your loincloth as you lifted him up.

“See him demon? How confused he is, looking for his so called family, looking for you.” You whispered in his ear, red eyes glaring down at the human as he looked around the beach, not knowing where to go, what to do.

“Don’t-do this.” His voice cracked, but you didn’t care, anger, rage and pain going through you.

“You cannot protect him now. This is for the sullys. For- my love.” Tears went down your cheeks as you remembered the last breath he took, the last time his heart beat.

He was gone. And now his killer is as well.

The knife that was covered in your blood, tight in your hold. “You don’t deserve mercy.”

“Guys?! Guys?!” Spider looks around frantically, ear piece smashed yet he still tried to get some kind of connection.

Thump!

Woosh Woosh Woosh…

The human flinched from the sound, head whipping back, only to see something he wished he didn’t. Spider looks up, eyes following the loud noise of the ikran wings. The one who dropped the vet off. But it was already gone in the distance, with no one on its back as it looked for its next victim.

“Sir?…” He called out, but he knew there wasn’t any use, there wasn’t any point in calling out to the man that didn’t raise him. He could see the arrow was ripped throughout his back, the rope bloodied. But he was still his father.

“Hey… Sir!” He yelled out, naked feet hitting the hot sand as he ran to the man.

Spider grunts as he turns the sky person over, only to see a knife through his head.

Part 2>>>>>>

[kaidabakugou]

𓆩♡𓆪 PAIRINGS: WEREWOLVES! KIRIBAKU X F! READER

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT: 2.4K

𓆩♡𓆪 WARNINGS: HUNTER & PREY / INJURIES / BLOOD KINK / MONSTERFUCKING / DOUBLE PENETRATION / KNOTS / CUNNILINGUS / ORGASM DENIAL / OVERSTIMULATION / BITING / MARKING / CNC / WOUND LICKING

𓆩♡𓆪 AUTHOR’S NOTE: hihi! this is another work from these spooky szn snippets that are still clouding my mind. hope you enjoy and please let me know if i missed any tags <333

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, the frantic beating of your heart booming against your ears as you continued running through the dark forest. Ignoring the ache in your legs while you jump over a large tree root, hands slippery with sweat against the rough wood as you push yourself forward. Only the light of the moon seeping through the trees illuminates your path while cold air sinks into your lungs.

They've been chasing you for what feels like hours now, heavy steps echoing with yours, low growling vibrating deep inside your ears when your pace falters, letting you know that it will only take one mistake, one wrong step and your life would be over.

You should've known better, should've heeded the warnings on the news about the recent animal killings, brushing it off as a simple mountain lion or a bear that happened to be near your area. 

But these weren't any mountain lions you've seen before. They seemed like wolves but at a much bigger scale, their eyes glowed a deep shade of yellow, and their sharp canines were enough to have you running away from the path to your home and into the dense trees.

Your clothes were ripped from the branches that clung to them, body marred with scrapes and dirt while fatigue started to settle into your muscles. The stinging pain in your lungs makes it harder to breathe with each desperate attempt to aid the ache in your chest. Stopping abruptly as you come up on the edge of a cliff overseeing the town, the pretty lights making your knees collapse under you.

The desire to scream builds up in your throat but you swallow it down as tears cling to your lashes realizing you've strayed too far from the town for anyone to hear you. The sounds of heavy pants getting louder and louder behind you while heavy steps rumble against the wet soil as you close your eyes. Biting your lip to contain the tremble of your chin as tears stain your cheeks. 

Looking over your shoulder as your eyes meet the same golden ones that drove you here, the bushes rattling on your other side as you peek over to see another set of the same eyes stalking towards your figure. Both wolves circling around you as if they hadn't tormented you enough, saliva dripping from their opened mouths and the sounds of the leaves crunching under their clawed paws that appeared to have more of a human-like shape rather than one of a wolf filled your ears as you tried to brace yourself for the horrid death that awaits you.

Jolting when you feel a cold nose drag along the side of your neck and down to the exposed skin on your shoulder. A wet tongue licking small stripes against your aching wounds while you tremble under his touch.

The moonlight catches on his coat and you notice the red highlights that accent his thick black fur. He continued to lick at your wounds, taking his time to savor the taste of your blood as the other wolf approached your face. Smelling across your cheeks and into the side of your hair before trailing down the center of your chest as he nestled himself in the valley of your breasts.

This wolf had a different coat from the one with the red highlights, this one had a blonde undercoat peeking from beneath his black fur almost ash colored. Their coats looked soft under the moonshine, clenching your fists at your sides as you resist the urge to reach up and pet them, wanting to know how their dark mane would feel seeping through your fingers.

You were ripped from your thoughts when your eyes met the ones of the wolf between your chest, he was staring up into yours as he continued breathing you in. His eyes were captivating, amber irises pulling yours into a deep trance as you sink deeper into pools of gold, your body almost relaxing under the mesmerizing sight before a tug on your side shifts your attention.

Fear settling into your bones again as the other wolf starts ripping your remaining clothes with his teeth. A low growl vibrates against your chest before the other wolf also starts to rip away at your clothes.

“N-no! Stop, don't do that!”, you beg but your pleas fall on deaf ears as they bite and claw away on the fabric before pushing you down on the cold forest floor. The damp soil digging into your knees as you fist the dirt when you feel one of them shove their snoot into your exposed cunt as he takes a long whiff through your folds before running his long tongue through them.

A whimper getting stuck in your throat when the wolf with the ash undercoat starts licking at your face, meaning the one with the crimson tips is the one that's slobbering all over your pulsing cunt. You tried to squirm away from their tongues, but sharp claws wrapped around your thighs, keeping you still as he continued lapping at your cunt.

The wolf licking your face suddenly grew impatient as he made his way around you, wanting to look back to see what they were doing but the animalistic snarls that resonated from behind you were enough to keep you frozen in your spot. It sounded like they were about to fight but before you could stress further over the thought, claws dug into your sides, flipping you over onto your back, scratching your skin in the process as you hissed at the sudden pain below your rib cages.

Both wolves settling between your legs as the one with the blonde undercoat wasted no time in licking long stripes along the length of your pussy while nudging your clit with his cold nose. The one with the red highlights made a sound that almost sounded like a whine before pushing his way to lap at your juices. Both beasts were licking your cunt while occasionally snapping at each other in an attempt to shove the other away. Their snarls send vibrations through your body as the knot inside your stomach gets tighter.

You were so close to cumming but before you could reach your climax, they stopped their ministrations on your throbbing cunt. Whining at the loss of contact but before you could protest further, the blonde undercoat giant was pulling you towards his lap, making you straddle him as the red highlighted fiend settled behind you. Dragging his cock between your ass cheeks before positioning himself at your entrance as he pushed his way inside you.

The stretch from his cock was unlike anything you've experienced before; your walls were clenching from the sting as he continued bullying his way into your dripping heat. His claws were digging into your hips as blood dripped in between them and onto the wolf beneath you, staining his coat.

The pain started to turn into pleasure but if there's something you should've learned by now is that these wolves enjoyed torturing you. And as quickly as the pleasure built, it was ripped away from you as he removed his cock from your cunt, shuddering as the cold brushed against your wet pussy, missing the warm feeling from the stretch of his cock.

Tears glossed your vision again as a whine vibrated in your chest, body moving on its own as you reached down to stroke the cock of the blonde undercoated brute under you. Feeling how it twitched in your hand, so big that your fingers couldn't completely wrap around him while you twisted your fist up and down as your eyes met his when a whine sounded from deep within his chest.

Aligning him with your entrance before sinking down on him, not waiting for your walls to adjust as you start grinding your hips down on him, chasing the release that you've been so desperate for. Closing your eyes as you lose yourself in the feel of his wide cock rubbing against your walls, not leaving a single inch of you untouched.

You're snapped from your haze when a sharp pain spreads across your shoulder, making you scream as the red highlighted wolf sinks his teeth into your delicate skin. Blood pouring into his mouth and pooling from the sides as it drips down on your chest while the other wolf leans down to drink the red liquid as it dribbles from your nipples and into his awaiting tongue. Sinking his jaws further into your flesh as he ruts his hips against your rear before pushing the tip of his cock into your tight rim.

Panicking as you try to wriggle your way out of his grasp but the lock on your shoulder prevents you from moving as they both dig their claws at your sides keeping you still while he buries his cock deeper into your ass.

Your mind was foggy, and your jaw was slack as both males were rutting into with an animalistic intensity that you could only scream incoherently. You weren't sure of how many times you’ve cummed from their assault on both of your holes but the mess of juices dripping down your legs was enough to let you know that it had been more than once, and they still hadn't cummed. Your body jolted with each thrust of their hips and your vision had blurred multiple times now, probably from the overstimulation that vibrated through every nerve in your body mixed with the blood loss from the jaws still latched onto your shoulder as they continued to lap up the red stream from your sensitive skin.

Just when you thought that they couldn't stretch you further, they slowed down their thrusts as they tried to push something wider into you, unsure of what it was since you couldn't move your head to look. Your body tensed as another scream ripped from your throat, voice hoarse as your body ran cold for a brief moment before heat settled into your skin again. They had pushed their thick knots inside of you, keeping you plugged before suddenly pulling them out of you again.

Ramming their knots into you as your body went limp in their grasps, heavy pants fanning your face while their whimpers got higher. Almost losing consciousness when the ash undercoat wolf sunk his jaws on the other side of your neck, teeth breaking the skin as blood pooled into his mouth.

The sweet liquid sends him over the edge as he buries his knot inside your sloppy cunt, flooding your walls with long hot ropes of cum, the feeling pulling another orgasm from you as you cum around his cock. The clenching of your rear sends the other wolf to reach his climax as he plunges his knot completely inside of you as he fills you up with cum. Both knots pulsing inside of you as they empty every last drop into your holes, filling you up and keeping you plugged as the three of you collapse into the ground.

Heavy breath escaping from your lips as you become more aware of the ache on your body, the mixtures of soreness and the stinging from their teeth and claws making it almost impossible to move. But the pain is short lived as they start licking every wound on your skin, their big warm tongues soothing the throb as they carefully clean all the sore spots.

In contrast to their previous rough demeanor, they were being delicate against your skin, no longer growling and snarling, their whines have died down in their throats to where it almost sounded like a purr to soothe your pain. Noticing that the sun was beginning to rise as the dark sky started turning a deep shade of blue, your eyes started to close as you began to succumb to sleep. 

But a worried voice sounding from behind you pulled you from your tiredness as you quickly looked back to the source. A man was staring down at you with worried eyes, dirt staining his lightly tanned skin with long red hair and matching deep shades of crimson eyes stared down at your equally disheaved figure.

“Are you ok?” your brows frowned further when you noticed he was naked as well, mouth stained with blood and his dick had replaced the large knot that was buried into your rear. Your words get caught in your throat as a million questions flood your mind. But before you could ask any, another voice startles you as you whip your head around again to see who it belongs to.

An ash blonde man rests his head under the arm behind his head with his eyes closed as he speaks again. “Let ‘er rest… we still have enough time before we have to return back into town”.

Opening his eyes as vermillion irises stare back into yours before smirking down at you. “What's with that look? Don't tell me you're still dazed from taking our cocks?”

You blink back at him, still confused as to what happened to the two wolves that were just here with you, stumbling over your words as you trailed off after each one, unsure of what to ask first.

“Where did-... how-... who are you?”

“We’re werewolves”, the redhead spoke behind you as you turned to face him.

“Werewolves?”, you asked, confusion written all over your face as he eagerly nodded.

“We usually just stay to ourselves, but we happened to stumble upon you last night and well you know”, he continues as he shoots you an apologetic smile while rubbing circles at your sides, just now becoming aware of the hands around your body.

“Oi, told you to let her rest for a bit, she's had a long night… haven't you, pretty? The blonde says as he cradles your face in his hand, pulling you back into him while pressing his forehead into yours.

“We’ll explain everything later, yeah?... Right now, you should rest”. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before letting your head fall back down onto his shoulder.

Letting sleep overtake you as you figure you could deal with the aftermath of this entire situation later. Enjoying the soft kisses being placed along your shoulder as you feel the redhead snuggle closer to you. Although you were still confused, you couldn't deny the excitement building up inside your stomach at the thought of the events from last night repeating themselves in the future.

Said thought makes your walls clench, the action not going unnoticed by both males as they smile to themselves before breathing in the sweet smell of your scent as they drift to sleep alongside you.

[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i cried a little while writing this tbh… i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: death, parent death, mentions of injury, crying, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Eighteen- I Know Loss

—-

The fire bursts forth from Hometree like you dropped a rock into water, burning outward on all sides, a ring of fire.

You eye it wearily, squeeze Neytiri’s hand, your bow long discarded and trampled into your haste to run to safety.

Eytukan runs alongside you, ordering The People out and into the forest, into safety, when suddenly his hand presses into your shoulder and he pushes you away, making you fall into Neytiri.

She catches you, when her father shouts for you to go.

Her face falls, and you watch as she reaches forward, hand on his arm, but he only shoves her away and shouts for her to go again.

“Neytiri!” you shout, the fire seeming all that much closer, the warmth sinking under your clothes, tugging her back.

She stumbles, eyes fixed on her father, but she is his daughter so she turns and squeezes your hand, so tight it’s like you’re her lifeline, and follows you deeper into the forest.

Other Na’vi scramble around you, everyone falling over themselves, tripping over roots and rocks they have known their entire life. Survival will do that to you, you have noticed. The world falls away until this is just all it is. You, your breath, and the prospect of safety.

You can hear people screaming, and then you can hear it. They cut through the sky like birds, shooting towards Hometree as if to catch their prey. But this is nothing natural, nothing normal. This is destruction in its simplest form.

It all explodes behind you like a million little deaths, a million little screams and lives lost. You imagine each plant petal, each inch of bark, all consumed by fire, nothing but ashes in their wake.

The ground shakes under you, like some vengeful god has come to exact justice for a crime you never even knew you committed.

Then, during one hard shake, rattling so deep you feel it in your bones, your heart, your legs give out and you bring Neytiri down with you.

You shout, and your throat feels like it’s been torn it two.

“Go!” Neytiri says, somehow fighting over the ash filling the air, the fear that takes a physical form in your lungs, like charred wood is filling you instead of air.

You manage to bring yourself to your feet, hand falling from hers, and it kicks at something in your heart but the need to live overrides all else.

The bombs explode, booming loud right in your ears, and you doubt you’ll ever get the sound out.

You can see each blade of grass shudder.

Another one comes, and you’re down again, knees scraping against the dirt and grass, stinging like hot wax hitting your skin.

You are forced to start crawling, as dehumanizing as it is, staying low to the ground so you won’t collapse completely when the ground shakes, only stutter.

All you can think about is the ground in front of you, getting away from the flames.

Neytiri stops, and you scream for her, turn back and see her staring up at the burning Hometree, at the pitch black smooth rolling off of it.

Then, the bombs stop.

That’s all it is for a moment, unspoken horror at what’s just happened, heartbeat deafening in your ears.

The leaves fall, so softly, fluttering. They sound like crunching bones. They sound like death.

You had mistaken Neytiri’s understanding for awe, disbelief.

She realized it before you.

And you knew already that Hometree would fall, but you never expected it to fall on you.

The sound of wood creaking fills the air, almost like it’s screaming, sobbing. It has been bombed and now it burns- how can you blame it for falling?

Neytiri stops, and you place your hand on her shoulder.

What are you supposed to do? Run and die? Stay and die? Where do you go? Everything fades into one, Neytiri’s braids swaying in the wind, hitting your face, and you can’t even be bothered to bat them away.

A woman’s scream rents the air, ear-piercing, and you’re shocked back to reality.

You think you scream, Neytiri grabs her hand, a million words traveling through your skin.

It falls slower than you expected. You almost thought it was come crashing down, but it makes sense. How would something that has stood so strong for so many years even know how to fall?

You didn’t know how to burn, not until they showed you.

And it seems Hometree has been taking lessons from the leaves, because it falls, the branches crashing behind you, closing you in, darkness consuming you.

It sounds like a god is stepping on you. It feels like your fire is burning out, your time is up, like you’re dying.

Then, you aren’t.

It all stops, Hometree bouncing a few times from the recoil, until there is no more vengeful god. No falling. Only the after. Only the destruction.

Neytiri stands slowly, staring at the fallen branches of the only home she has ever known.

You can hear the screams, the cries, and all you can do it sit motionless on the ground. The world has fallen before you, and you cannot even speak.

—-

“Father! Father!” Neytiri calls, and you pant as you trail behind her, smoke in your lungs, eyes to the ground. Debris and small patches of fire are everywhere- and Neytiri cannot protect you and look for her father.

Suddenly, the shouting stops. You look up in the odd silence, the only sound the crackling of fire, before Neytiri starts sobbing.

You startle and look up, side stepping a burning branch. “Neytiri-” but the words die in your throat.

Eytukan lays on his side, something sharp protruding from his chest. A piece of wood, you realize. How cruel is it that he should die from the home he protected so fiercely?

Neytiri turns him on his back, and you can barely stand the sound of her wails through your groans. You don’t know what to do. Do you comfort her? Let her be?

“Daughter…” Eytukan gasps, the Na’vi translating quick in your mind. He raises his arm, hands still wrapped tightly around his bow. “Take… my… bow…” he gasps, like living is killing him.

You cannot imagine how much pain he’s in, how much pain Neytiri is in. Slowly, you come closer, fall to your knees next to her. It’s jarring to see someone so proud and so tall, someone you have looked up to all your life, reduced to nothing by the humans and their pointless ruination.

“Protect The People,” he whispers, and Neytiri cries as she takes the bow from him. He speaks like living is killing him, like it is a chore to breathe, his heart to beat. It is no surprise that his hand falls limp to the ground, his chest falls flat.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp, because what else are you supposed to do? You wrap your arms around her shoulders, and she falls against you, hands around her father’s bow. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

You breathe deeply, feel like the world is crashing in on you when she turns her head, presses her forehead to yours.

“They’re gonna take me,” you whisper, tears falling down your one face. You grieve for the forest, your mother, for Eytukan and for Hometree. “They’re gonna take me, Neytiri- I’m so sorry-”

“You can’t,” she breathes, her sobs stopping for a moment, her hand digging into your arm. “You can’t leave me,” she pleads, “not like this, my Y/N, you can’t leave me.” But both of you know that you have no choice.

You swallow, force back your tears. You want her to know this, know how you feel. “I don’t know what to do without you, I don’t- I love y-”

“Y/N! Neytiri!”

Even like this, you would recognize his voice anywhere.

You cannot bring yourself to look at him, and you aren’t even sure if Neytiri notices him, to busy in her grieving, in her whispered words for you to stay. You can do nothing but hold her tighter, give her this memory.

Jake’s footsteps crackle throughout the broken forest, and you still can’t look, too scared you’ll regret it all.

You can see him fall to his knees next to the two of you, and he hesitates for one moment, before placing a hand on the backs of your necks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry,” but words will do nothing.

“Get away,” Neytiri sobs.

“I’m sorry-”

“Get away!” she shrieks, tearing herself from you, grabbing her father’s bow and pressing it to his chest. “Get away! Get away from here!”

And you feel it, ever so slowly, like a wave rising.

“Neytiri,” you mutter, and the last thing you hear is her gasp, and the last thing you feel is her hands on you.

You know that when you wake, you will never see her again.

—-

Neytiri knows she is strong, knows that she has survived much. She has hidden tears for years, pushed aside her emotions in favor for the clan.

Now, her father is dead, and it all comes pouring out. She thinks of her sister, Hometree, the utraya mokri. She thinks of the years alone, without her sister, without Y/N.

She thought she had her back, and then Jake was there, filling her life with his stupid human ways and his stupid face and all that is him.

She thought she had her Y/N back, and then Neytiri heard her name from her lips, and Neytiri’s hands come around her so quick, and she falls to her knees, holding Y/N like she’s everything precious in the world.

And with how much she has lost, she is now.

She gasps, and Jake fades from her mind, and now she is holding her best friend, her mate’s, limp body in her arms, next to her dead father.

She sobs, and she thinks that she will surely run out of tears today.

And then his hand touches Y/N’s head. He caresses it like he’s done before, and Neytiri had smiled when he did it before, but this is not then.

“I’ll protect her,” he breathes, “I’ll protect her.”

But she’s trusts Jake no longer, and his words mean nothing to him.

“I won’t let them hurt her, I promise-”

“Go away,” she sobs, wondering how many times she must repeat it. “Go away, go away,” and she is pleading. She cannot even stand to look at him anymore.

She imagines his ears tucking against his head, his tail dropping low. A part of her that still loves him, that will always love her mate breaks a little, but the stronger part of her is cruel.

Good, she thinks. This is what he deserves.

I still love him, another part of her sings, and she cries more, adds another loss to her list.

She cannot take anymore loss.

But she knows it is inevitable, but now, as Jake’s footsteps fade, as Y/N’s body grows cold, she promises that she won’t let them take from her like this again. She will fight tooth and nail for what is hers, even if all she has is herself and the girl she will always love.

She won’t let them take her, not anymore.

—-

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[luxeberries]

now on ao3

One day, in mid August of ‘85, Dustin shows up at Steve’s front door, completely unannounced. It’s the middle of the night and Steve has half the mind to reprimand Dustin about curfew and biking alone in the dark. But when his vision finally focuses on Dustin’s expression, Steve sees panic in his eyes; fear. At first, his heart plummets and he thinks not again, not so soon. But then Dustin says-

“I killed that guy. Didn’t I?”

And every other thought in Steve’s mind crumbles like ash. 

“The Russian,” Dustin clarifies in Steve’s silence. “The doctor.” 

Steve remembers. 

Bald, round glasses. 

Stale coffee breath. 

Pliers pulling his nail. 

He can’t speak, throat closing up. 

Dustin keeps talking, rambling like Robin does when she’s panicked. “They used those cattle prods to stun demogorgons, Steve. Do you have any idea how many volts that thing held? He- He fell, like-”

“Dustin,” Steve says - rasps it out because his throat is dry but he needs to stop Dustin’s spiral. 

Rendered silent, Dustin looks up at Steve with wide, glistening eyes. He’s expecting an answer, but Steve doesn’t have one. He can’t think beyond the sight of Dustin standing before him in a matching pajama set and untied shoes, like he didn’t have the time or mind to fasten them up because he was in too much of a rush to come here. To seek out Steve, in the middle of the night. Steve, who should be able to help because that’s his job; he’s the protector, the older brother Dustin can come to for comfort. 

Except that Steve was woken with a start just five minutes ago when Dustin started pounding on his front door and he thought it was the Russians coming back for him, his mind still half lost to the nightmare he was having; all blood and bone saws and Robin’s screams. Part of him is itching to call her, like maybe she somehow died back there and Steve has been imagining her this whole time and he just needs to hear her mom answer the phone and say, ‘Yeah, she’s right here, honey’. 

But he remembers Dustin charging in, remembers watching him strike the doctor right in the chest and how he fell to the ground, limp, and didn’t get back up. Knows that everyone is safe, no matter what his brain tries to tell him. Robin and Erica are sleeping in their beds, and Dustin is standing on his front door step, bike discarded on the ground next to the Bimmer. 

Steve takes a deep breath and says, “Get in here.” 

He ushers Dustin in with a hand on the back of his neck, locking the door behind them, and heads to the living room. Dustin just keeps looking at him, like Steve has all the answers. Like Steve can make it all better. Can say the voltage wouldn’t have killed him, as if the possibility that he’s still out there wouldn’t send himself into a panic attack. 

“Steve,” Dustin says, and it sounds like a plea; the way his voice lisps, wet and small. 

He’s only thirteen.

“I killed a person,” Dustin says. 

And Steve gets it, sort of. It doesn’t matter that the person Dustin killed was evil and cruel, just like it didn’t matter that Billy Hargrove was about to kill Lucas when Steve stepped in between them. He still didn’t want to hurt someone. Each punch felt like too much, like if he punched any harder, he’d do some serious damage. And Billy would have deserved it - as horrible as it feels to think that after his sacrifice - but Steve didn’t want to be the one to do it. That’s not who he is. He’s a protector, not a fighter. Not a killer. That breaks something in a person, as is made clear by the crack in Dustin’s voice. It took something from him. The little bit of innocence Dustin had left. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, quiet and almost apologetic. “You did.” 

Dustin’s face falls, as if he really did want Steve to say otherwise. But avoiding the truth won’t help anything. 

“But- But you saved me, okay?” he says, like he’s asking if that truth is enough.

Dustin’s eyes flash with something Steve can’t identify. 

“Me and Robin,” Steve continues. “You saved us. If you hadn’t done what you did- What you had to do…”

His nightmares have answered that hypothetical too well. 

He shakes it off, puts his hand on Dustin’s shoulder instead.

“You saved us. You did good, Dustin. Okay? That’s what’s important here.” 

Dustin's face crumples and before Steve can blink, he’s got an armful of the kid. He’s still bruised, ribs only just recovering from the break, and it hurts. But he wraps Dustin up in his arms and lets him cry into his shoulder, wetting the thin fabric through. 

"Hey, it's okay," Steve soothes, voice low. "You're okay. I've got you, buddy."

He’s not coddling him or trying to get him to stop crying- he just talks so Dustin knows he’s there. Tells him how grateful he is for Dustin taking care of him and Robin when they were messed up, for being so brave when he busted into that room. He talks until Dustin is quiet against him, left with his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist and his face pressed into Steve’s shoulder. He doesn’t move for a while, but Steve doesn’t mind - just rubs his back and rests his cheek against his curls. 

“Your mom know you’re here?” he asks softly. 

Dustin shakes his head. 

“You wanna stay here tonight?” 

Dustin nods. 

Steve checks his watch over Dustin’s shoulder. It’s almost midnight. He sighs. 

“Remind me to send her flowers or something as an apology for waking her up right now,” Steve says, light-hearted, trying to make Dustin laugh.

But Dustin just sniffles, guilty. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no. It’s fine. Take your shoes off and head on upstairs, yeah? I’ll call your mom and tell her you’re with me.” 

Dustin pulls back, wipes his wet nose with his sleeve and Steve tries not to cringe. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

It’s not entirely selfless, calling Dustin’s mom. If he calls Mrs Henderson, he can call Robin right after without Dustin knowing. He has a feeling she’ll be awake at this time too anyway. He thinks he might call the Sinclairs as well, wants to make sure Erica is okay. 

And as long as Dustin stays the night, Steve knows that at least he’s safe, spread out right beside him, taking up the whole bed. Can make sure Dustin sleeps through the night, can be there if he has a nightmare that his mom wouldn’t be able to calm him down from. 

Steve ruffles Dustin’s hair, smiling at how he pushes into it like a cat. “It’s no problem.”

[swordcreature]

(this is a repost of a fic on ao3 that i wanted to bring over here as well sorry)

Tend to Me Softly

He is all angles, sharp edges. But her? She is plush curves: hills and valleys of flesh to get lost in. She is a peppering of freckles across creamy skin. She is everything he isn’t, his perfect opposite.

Tags: Named Tav, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Tail Play, Consensual Somnophilia

Word Count: 5,708 [Read on AO3]

It’s well past any reasonable hour, he’s sure of that. The moonlight stretches through the curtains painting long stripes of silver over the stone floor in a way only the mid night sky can. There is a cool silence, only disrupted by the quiet breaths of his love wrapped tenderly in his arms. Her chest rises and falls in a constant rhythm like the fall of his hammer, and he knows if he focused hard enough he could doze off to the steady beat. Most nights he would at least try.   

Tonight, though, Dammon relents to lying awake as his mind races, dwelling on the thoughts too dark for the daytime; thoughts so heavy and fraught with fear that their presence in the sunlight would surely block the warmth from ever reaching him. Or so it felt.   

He closes his eyes.  

Scenes of red and black, blood and ash, are scorched into memory, replayed as if he were still living them. He can almost feel the heat like the lick of hellfire singeing him through thought alone, turning his edges black with sulphury smelling soot. The world shifts underneath him, and he is falling. No, not falling. Being swallowed whole. Consumed.   

Silence turns to screams; the damned cry out for mercy they will never see, the sound loud enough to make bile rise in his throat. He bites back the familiar sting, its bitterness a reprieve from the taste of burnt flesh and stale blood and infernal smoke that seems to constantly coat his mouth.   

Sometimes Dammon worries his love can taste it on his lips. That it will stick to her tongue too, ruining the sweetness he savors so. That touching her with his infernal claws will leave black, filthy lines of ash and viscera across her unmarked skin. That loving him will damn her. It hasn’t happened yet, and he prays to any god that will listen, if there is one listening to a devil like him, that it never will.   

Still, the fear grips him tight, a vice around his chest, crushing. He runs a single finger over the curve of her bare shoulder to see it for himself. She is unmarred; smooth, pallid skin covered only in sand-colored freckles and goosebumps. His touch leaves no trace. Perhaps that is all that he can ask for: that loving her does not leave any marks, any remnants of the Hells that cling to him. So she may leave him unscathed.   

He lays his calloused hand against a plush hip where the skin is soft and full and warm. In her sleep his lover sighs his name, barely heard, as though she can feel him in the depths of her dreams. For a moment he thinks she has awoken, but her body is limp and face blank.  

He continues.   

There is a desperation to Dammon’s touch despite its gentleness, a slight tremble in his fingers as he lets the feeling of her start to wash away his darkness before he is swallowed whole. He needs her, he thinks, needs every part of her to cull this ache he’s built in his chest.   

His palm traces the hills of her body down to a thigh, copper fingers tightening just barely, then releasing, in a slow, tender knead. His eyes flicker across her face, waiting. A breath slips out from parted lips, but she does not wake.   

She's too deep in sleep’s sweet embrace to feel the shift of the bed as he gently slides his arm out from under her. He props himself on an elbow and carefully grasps behind her knee. There is no resistance as he spreads her open, reveling in the way she is slowly exposed. A private thing, for his eyes only.  

He swallows thickly and takes a moment to enjoy the way her core shines with arousal despite having barely touched her sleeping form. So wanting, he would tease her later. A lithe finger is raised to her waiting sex, slipping between her folds, covering it in her slick.   

In one long stroke he drags the calloused pad of his middle finger across her apex and down to her entrance, then circles back. He follows that path several times, eyes flitting between her core and her face as he works.  

Her brow is pulled tight in pleasure and her hips rock unconsciously. A ghost of a whimper hangs on her tongue. Oh how he hopes her dreams are sweet.   

Dammon feels heat build low in his stomach, an excitement of his own pressed against his groin. It aches, untouched, but he wouldn’t dare to indulge right now. Not when she is so bare before him, wetness trailing down his fingers. He licks his lips and brings his hand to his mouth. Sucking a digit into his mouth, his tongue hungrily laps up her juices. She is heady and sweet and somehow a bit metallic. By the gods she is made just to his tastes.  

It’s too much. It’s not enough.   

He’s quick to fit himself between her legs. Long, clawed fingers grip her outer thighs as he places warm, open-mouthed kisses along the inside. He draws a long breath in through his nose and loses himself in her musk, almost as intoxicating as her taste.   

The tip of his tongue sinks between her folds before flattening to take a long, slow lick upwards, savoring every drop of her like the fine wines she likes so much. He continues like this for some time, languorous strokes of his tongue swiping over every inch of her warm, pink cunt as if he could swallow her whole. Consume her.   

It is only when he takes her stiff bud between his lips to suck softly that her eyes blink open, a shiver rippling through her. Dammon’s eyes bore into hers and, despite the veil of sleep that envelopes her, she is overcome by the need to run her fingers through his hair, to hold him ever closer to her throbbing core.   

His hair spills from its elastic, her fingers tangling in its roots. She pitches her hips towards him, cradling his face closer to where she needs him in a silent plea. His eyes don’t leave her face as he brings a finger to her entrance and pushes, taking careful consideration of his claws. He times the pump of his finger with the suckling of her clit. Then he adds another finger.  

A hand stays fisted in his hair, the other moving to one of his horns; she palms it eagerly, feeling each bump and ridge against her open hand. His horns aren’t all that sensitive, but the way she handles it, not unlike the way she touches his cock, makes his chest thrum with unbridled need. He thrusts faster and hums against her aching clit.  

She's a tight string about to snap, spine arching, toes curling. Every muscle is held taut in anticipation as she teeters on the brink of bliss. He can feel it: the way her thighs shake and strain to stay open, the way she squirms as his fingers curve into the spot that makes her see stars; he knows she is oh so close.   

With hunger glinting in his eye, he rakes his teeth over her pearl. It’s gentle and light but she can feel it in her spine like electricity coursing through her bones. It’s enough to finally tip her over the edge.   

Dammon closes his eyes and relishes the feeling of her fingers in his hair tugging him closer while a fist curled around his horn pushes him away. Too much and not enough. Fingers plunge into her swollen cunt again and again, working her through the waves of her climax like he works molten metal: insistent, relentless, careful until pliant and soft beneath him.   

She breathes in shallow huffs of air while he takes his time pressing warm, wet kisses into her skin. In a line from thighs to chest, he nips playfully at silky skin, apologizing with his tongue when fangs leave an unsightly mark. He takes a pert nipple into his mouth, rolling it against his tongue while his fingers occupy the other.  

The noises she makes under him are sweet and melodic – each pull and pinch of her nipple akin to a string plucked on a lute. He never was gifted with instruments, but in this moment he feels like a virtuoso.   

The music ends as she pulls him upwards, hands trembling as they grab at his face. He relents with a tender smile, allowing himself to be dragged up until their lips meet. It’s a soft kiss, mouths moving lazily, luxuriating in the warmth of one another. She draws back slightly so their noses touch and searches his eyes.   

She’s still searching when he laughs bashfully.   

“What?” Her stare could burn a hole through him, he’s sure. It’s full of love and concern in a way he knows he has never experienced before her. He never will after her, he thinks.  

“What’s the matter my love?” Her voice is a whisper. Thin fingers brush his hair from his cheek, tucking blonde-auburn locks behind a pointed ear. She knows him too well for him to lie.  

His gaze drops, too much of a coward to look at her directly when he speaks. Behind him he feels his tail swishing back and forth like an anxious cat. He wills the damned thing to stop, but it flicks harder. The traitor.   

“I- I’m-” The words catch in his throat, though he wants to say them so very badly. He yearns to open his chest to her so that she may grip his beating heart, filled with fear and shame, and kiss it with the tender reverence she saves only for him. And she would if he asked.  

Perhaps that is why it's so hard to do so.   

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she murmurs, lightly tracing the tip of his ear. A shiver runs through him. “But you know I’ll always listen.” He closes his eyes in response, taking a deep breath through his nose. Her scent mixes with the smells of the cooled forge a story below them, lavender and rose water and ash and metal. It smells like home.  

“How can you stand it?” he asks, voice thick, still not daring to look her in the eye.  

“Stand what?”  

“Me. This . All of it. I- I don’t know.” The bed creaks as he pulls away from her, leaning back to sit on his knees between her legs. He runs a hand over his face. Gods he has no idea what he’s saying.   

She frowns, brow furrowed in confusion, but doesn’t press further. Instead, she lifts onto her elbows and waits for him to gather his words, ever patient. His head is turned, too afraid to even face her.   

“I- I’m-,” he starts, attempting to put words to the feeling of cinders burning in his chest, of being burned alive. “How can you stomach the thought of such a damned thing touching you? Of an infernal creature in your bed? How does the thought of it not make your skin crawl?” The words spill with more bite than he truly intends.   

He clenches his jaw so hard he’s afraid his teeth will shatter. The tang of blood from his cheek mars her taste on his tongue.   

“Dammon,” she sighs, a quiet plea. “Dammon.” She repeats his name, louder and more direct. A command for his attention. He peers at her from the corner of his eye, lips pressed into a thin line. Hesitantly, she pushes up from her elbows to sit upright, reaching out to cup his neck.  

Her thumbs stroke his jaw. It is a delicate and tender touch. Honey sweet. It is everything she is, and it makes his chest ache. “You know that I love you.”   

He shakes his head. “But why?” Any other time the desperation in his voice would make him cringe; the neediness of it turns his stomach sour, but he can’t help it now. “Why love a- a a devil, a fiend ? There’s a million other people out there without horns or claws or tails, who don’t stink like the sulfurous pits of the Hells, who-” His breathing is ragged, worked into a rage aimed only at himself. He steels himself with a long breath in. “People wouldn’t stare. Wouldn’t gawk. Like you’re some kind of heathen for holding my hand. Why do you taint yourself with me?”   

The differences between them had never been so poignant to him before this. He is rough and firm where she is supple and smooth and soft. Gods she is so soft. Devilish ridges cover his back, sprawling over his chest. Even his knees are bumpy and grotesque, he thinks.   

He is all angles, sharp edges. But her? She is plush curves: hills and valleys of flesh to get lost in. She is a peppering of freckles across creamy skin. She is everything he isn’t, his perfect opposite.   

“Is that what you want? For me to leave, be with someone else?” He desperately doesn’t. The thought alone is a knife in his chest.  

She sits up straighter, making herself taller, looking him in the eye.  

“I’ve never felt so loved before I met you – so safe. Why should I care what others think?”  

He wants to speak, but the words don’t come. So she continues.  

“You are so much more than what you give yourself credit for. And it hurts so deeply to know you think like this. I desperately wish you could see yourself like I do.” She lifts to match his pose – both sitting on bent knees – and cards her fingers through his hair.  

Not a moment passes, and she persists. He’s grateful; the thoughts don’t get a chance to spiral further downward when she talks.  

“You see a damned creature, I see a man, by the gods, meant just for me. Eyes like the blue of the sky with the sun sitting in its warmth,” she whispers, punctuating the thought with a kiss to each eyelid.   

“A smile so bright and full it makes my heart sing.” Now a kiss to his lips, lightly.   

“Hands, strong, steady, talented bend metal to their will but also are so achingly gentle.” She grabs his hands, laying her next kisses on each open palm.   

“Your heart. Full of passion and love and laughter and kindness. So much kindness.” Her final kiss is placed over his thundering heart. He’s sure she can hear it, feel it, but in truth he couldn’t care.  

“Venary,” he breathes her name like a prayer, reverent and holy.   

“Shh my love. I’m not finished,” she chastises, though it holds no bite. A hand moves upwards to caress his sharp horns as though they were something precious, something fragile. The other ghosts over the spines that cover his sternum.  

“These parts of you are just as worthy of love. Worthy of tenderness. You know that, right? Your blood is infernal, yes, but that isn’t some dirty word, some curse. Just a fact. The sky is blue, and you are infernal. You aren’t worth less for it.”  

“You love me then, despite these features, damned as they may be?”  

She shakes her head. “No! Gods you stubborn man, I love them. Your horns, your tail, your claws, every bump and ridge on you, all of them. Because they’re a part of you.” The corners of her mouth lift in the barest hint of a smile. It falls quickly, though.  

“I can’t begin to imagine what it was like when Elturel fell, but you’re not there anymore.” She stops and grabs his face. “You’re here, you’re thriving with your own little corner of the world. Here with me. Avernus can’t touch that, can’t change what you’ve done.”  

He watches as she blinks, fighting back tears. He’s made her cry, he realizes. One drop falls and he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb. “It certainly can’t change how I feel about you. How much I love you. How much I want you.”   

It’s so easy to believe her, to let her saccharine words assuage every fear and every worry that rattles in his head. Like breathing or laughing, it comes naturally, her love quenching the searing fire of the hells within him until there is nothing left of him but skin and bones of a man. Not a tiefling, not a fiend, not a beast.  

Dammon reaches for her, pulling her up to crush his mouth to hers. The kiss is sloppy and almost on the wrong side of too forceful, but he can’t stop himself. And she doesn’t protest.  

She yields, leaning forward to mold herself around him. He revels in the way her chest presses against his, winding both arms around her waist to keep her there.   

When his lungs are just about to burst from lack of air, he breaks free to plant open-mouthed kisses – more tongue than anything – up her neck between breaths. He follows the curve up to her ear, tracing the shell with a pointed tongue. Hot breath tickles her ear, and she giggles. The sound of it makes him grin like an idiot.  

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispers still a bit strained. “Gods you’re everything, aren’t you?” There’s a part of him that wishes he studied poetry and not smithing – that he could mold flowery prose together with the same ease he crafted a weapon. Then he could show just how true his words are. But Dammon is much better with his hammer than he is with a pen.   

He’ll just have to find another way to show her, he thinks.  

She drags his face to her, hands unsteady. Dammon's lips find hers, kissing them in a way that would be chaste, if it weren’t for the way he lingers after. Seizing the opportunity, she peaks her tongue between his lips, urging them open with a lazy flick. He accepts the invitation with a quiet moan. The kiss deepens as tongues lap against each other in a slow, sensual caress.   

The hot, hard length of his cock is damp between them, pressed against her hip. Her hand drifts down to draw a path up the shaft before running a thumb over the head. A pearly bead of precum sticks to her, and she pulls from their kiss to make a show of licking it off. He throbs almost painfully.  

“Lay back little love. I need you,” he orders against her lips. She falls back in silent compliance, more than happy to indulge him.  

Dammon sits back to take a knee in each hand, spreading her to reveal her swollen center once more. Any other time he would playfully chide her with a click of his tongue for the way arousal drips from her sex making a mess of the sheets below. But tonight, the view has all the blood in his body rushing down to his member. The only sound that leaves him is a groan, an incoherent curse lost to lust.  

Sliding back off the mattress, he lowers himself to kneel on the cool stone floor at the foot of the bed. He places a hand under each thigh, gripping firmly, and pulls her to the edge in one swift motion. A tender warmth spreads through him at the sound of her laughter, like the chiming of bells.   

Her mirth is cut short as he lifts a slender calf up and onto his shoulder. She watches him with half lidded eyes and a heaving chest; the sight of her like this – open and wanton – is almost cathartic. Healing. As though the vulnerability she affords him could stitch up his open wounds to make him whole.   

He’s lost in thought when her voice draws him back to the present, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m still pretty sensitive from before. Having just you is more than enough.”   

His laugh is a bark, short and loud and a bit incredulous. Because oh gods there is nothing he wants more. The thought of her assuming otherwise is a blow to some irrational part of his ego that he intends to avenge. With his mouth. Against her pretty pink cunt. Again .   

He shakes his head, a smirk toying on his lips. “And if I do?”  

“Then far be it for me to dissuade you from your desires,” she quips, trying her best to keep the needy shake in her voice at bay. It’s a fruitless endeavor really.  

Clawed thumbs part her folds as though unfurling a flower that has not bloomed. Dammon wastes no time tracing her with a hot tongue, savoring the way her muscles quiver under it. She was right, he thinks. So sensitive.  

He moves a thumb from her outer lips, choosing to favor the swollen bundle of nerves at her apex, rubbing firm, persistent circles around it. The sound that leaves her is urgent and needy, her walls clenching around nothing.   

Ever the gentleman, he sinks his tongue deep inside her, providing some semblance of the fullness she desperately wants. He fucks her with tongue and fingers until his jaw starts to hurt and his fingers cramp. But it doesn’t stop him, drunk on something far better, stronger, than any spirit he’s ever had.  

Maybe that’s why Dammon doesn’t notice the way his tail, as if acting of its own accord, wraps possessively around her ankle. She does though.   

And something about the simple act hurls her into the throes of her second orgasm. It is not nearly as graceful or timid as her first; her body curls in on itself, tense, and her hips buck against his face irrhythmically. She pushes him away with a trembling hand, whining as she comes down. Too sensitive.   

He raises his head from her center. Setting back on his haunches, he palms his erection as he takes in his little piece of art. It’s better than anything he has made in the forge, that’s for sure. A giggle interrupts his appreciation.   

“What?” he asks, amused. In answer, she lifts and lazily wiggles the leg his tail is wrapped around. “Oh.” His ears flush a deep amber. Dammon had always been very mindful of his tail, never wanting to cause unease. And when they met, he worked hard to make sure it sat behind him like it wasn’t there.   

With a sheepish grin, he loosens his grip, tail unwinding. She catches it with a quick hand and holds it in place against her, biting back a kittenish smile. He raises an eyebrow.  

“I- you can leave it.” She tries to be nonchalant, keeping a cool, calm tone. But she fails at hiding the way her hips readjust their position, the way her eyes dart around his face but don’t meet his.   

His stomach twists; surely it’s discomfort that makes her squirm, he thinks. Because it’s one thing to say she loves his more infernal features, it’s something else entirely when one wraps itself around her so intimately.  

He moves to grab the hand which holds his tail so that he may uncoil himself from her ankle. It unravels, dropping her leg unceremoniously. Her face noticeably falls with it, much to his confusion. She looks let down, disappointed almost, like a child who was just told ‘no’.  

“Why’d you move it?”   

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.  

“Oh. Well. Put it back.”   

Dammon considers his love an easy read most of the time but in this moment he could not be more puzzled.    

“Why?” It comes out more a laugh than a word.  

“Because!” she starts, sucking a plump lip between her teeth. For a second he thinks they may be talking about two different things with how defensive her tone is. “Because. I like it.” The statement is so simple, so matt-of-fact, it catches him off guard.   

Then realization dawns.   

The wiggling hips, the lack of eye contact? It wasn’t discomfort, no, it was embarrassment! Reticence! And it’s suddenly as plain as the night is dark, the telltale signs of her arousal peaking though the haze of his self-consciousness. She liked the way it tucked itself around her in lewd excitement. Enjoyed it.  

The thought is enough to bring what seems like all the blood in his body back down to his cock. It throbs with newfound purpose.   

But, it would be remiss of Dammon to ignore this new development, the generous soul he is. So, he stands, moving to lean over her body, hands bracing on each knee. Rough palms follow the contour of her thighs up to the swell of her hips then still at her waist. His smirk is devious, stare unrelenting.  

Her mouth pops open as if to ask a question and Dammon watches in mischievous suspense as it drops open further to gasp for an unsteady breath; his tail, having snaked up the inside of her leg, moves carefully through her – now twice tender – folds. It rocks back slowly as he examines her face for any sign of unease. There is none, only the look of feverish excitement.  

Dammon lets his tail touch her slowly, feather light, moving himself upwards to lay over her. Her head is bracketed between his strong arms, faces an inch apart breathing each other's air. Neither dare to look away.   

“Dammon,” she gasps, hands twisted in the sheets below, knuckles strained white.   

“Yes?” His voice drips with faux innocence.   

“Hah- Please!”  

He dips his head, lips ghosting against the shell of her ear and shifts his weight onto one hand. The other comes to rest on her jaw, thumb swiping over a damp bottom lip. As he runs his tail over her sensitive pearl, she shivers.  

“Please what, my love?” Teeth tug at the soft meat of her earlobe. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll take care of you.” A kiss is pressed to her temple.  

“Please- Want you . Need you in me!” It’s as much a plead as it is a demand, one that she punctuates by sucking his thumb into her mouth, curling her tongue around the coarse pad. All of a sudden Dammon finds himself very lightheaded and very ready to take her. She’ll be the death of him, he’s never been so sure.   

The spongey head of his cock is slick with precum which he smears down his length with one firm stroke. With a second pass of his hand, a new bead forms and his hips pitch forward instinctively. Her hand reaches between their bodies to grip him, fingers loosely caressing the ridges of his shaft.   

His tail slides out from her core, the promise of being inside her too good to continue his teasing. It tangles around her lower thigh to pin her legs further apart. He’s reminded of the pictures he’d seen in a book once, of women tied up with thick rope and intricate knots. Bare skin squeezed between bindings in preparation to be taken. Gods she would look so pretty tied up, he idly thinks.   

Her fist works his length over once, twice more before she uses him to spread the warm lips of her sex. Dammon gives a few testing ruts of his hips, coating himself in her slick, before aligning with her entrance.   

The muscles in his arms tremble with exertion as he tries not to immediately bottom out with one rigorous thrust. Instead, he tries to prolong the feeling, pressing into her inch by inch, letting her heat envelope him slowly until he’s fully seated within her. And she does fit every last bit of him.   

Something about the thought makes him feral with need. She is so petite. Plush. Human. And yet she takes his cock, long and thick and infernal , like it was made for her. Though his hips are flush against hers, it makes him buck forward mindlessly, earning a keening moan from his lover.   

“Okay?” he asks, searching her face for discomfort. She nods eagerly, hips starting to squirm underneath him in pursuit of any bit of friction she can achieve. It pulls a quick, breathy gasp from his chest.  

Dammon catches her jaw with his hand and tilts her head up for a deep kiss as he begins to move. The pace he sets is measured, deliberate. Tonight is not a night for the harsh, punishing rhythm of animalistic sex. No, tonight is tender. It is loving. Tonight is reserved for soft words whispered into flushed ears, bodies made one by the deep strikes of hips, one breath shared between two.   

A night to put every schmaltzy romance book he’s ever read to shame, he thinks.   

An arm snakes underneath her waist, palm pressed to the small of her back, urging her rear to tilt off the bed. With the new angle she takes him impossibly further until he is met with the firm resistance deep within her.   

The gentle prod of his erection sends a shock through his love that leaves her gasping for air. They pause for a moment, and he watches her chest heave, exhilarated.   

And then suddenly she is grasping for him, his face, his neck, his horns, anything she can possibly leverage to bring his mouth to hers. Her kisses are hungry with insistent, unspoken pleas for more, more of that . Dammon couldn't saw no if he wanted to.   

He doesn’t want to.  

He grinds against her, focusing on that spot deep inside with gentle presses and rubs, finding just the right pressure to keep pleasure from turning to pain. It’s a careful balance, but he’d be a poor smith if he struck hard where softness was needed.  

They lie chest to chest, Dammon able to feel how every little movement of his cock ripples through her, a tremor that surges from her curled toes, up her spine, to her lungs. Her cunt tenses around him, so achingly close to the edge already, and he is eager to tip her over to reap the sweetness that overflows.  

He's close too, he realizes, after having worked himself up for so long. The flames of his arousal lick at the base of his member and turn the blood in his veins white hot. Fire has never felt so good. The pressure of it is molten in his groin, but he steels himself, fixated on wringing another orgasm from her before he meets his end.   

So, he works – diligent and resolute – alternating from filling thrusts to light massages, desperately trying to satisfy her need for friction and stimulation to that sweet spot inside her. Her kisses turn sloppy. Moans turn to mewling whines. Trembling hands pull him closer, could such a thing be possible.   

If her second orgasm was clumsy and inelegant, her third is almost violent: an avalanche that captures her within its inevitability. She tumbles through the throes of pleasure, swept under the weight of it. Her hips, still supported by Dammon’s arm, writhe against him, practically thrashing. Her body bends towards him at an unnatural angle and she turns to press her face into his arm beside her to muffle the cries of satisfaction with a bite.   

Her cunt clenches, walls constricting around him almost to the point of pain, but not quite. It’s wonderfully tight and deliciously suffocating and just what he needs to hurl him over the cliff into his own climax.   

His cock pulses like the coals in his forge, hot and bright, thick ropes of spend pumping into her sex until she cannot take any more of him. He can feel the way it starts to coat her thighs as he presses his hips into her, thrusting spastically as he rides out the last waves of his own orgasm.   

His love slumps, crooked back now relaxed as she melts beneath him. He follows, covering her body with his, careful to keep himself half supported by the forearm still braced at her head.  

The quiet of the night is a music that tangles with their soft, labored breathing. Its melody embraces them in its cool repose as though they are the only two people in the world.  

To Dammon, they are.   

She rights her head to look at him, a tired smile on her face. He returns it and dips down to press his lips to hers. They stay like that for some time; her arms wound around him, his hand brushing through silky hair, their lips moving together unhurried. Satiated and at peace.  

Only when the cold bite of the nighttime air catches on their sweat slick bodies do they part, Dammon standing on still somewhat shaking legs to grab a cloth to cleanup. He returns to his love still languidly sprawled on the bed and takes in the sight.   

Her lips are plump, swollen from too many kisses, her nipples still peaked against the cool air, thighs shining with her wetness and his cum. She is debauched, a testament to his love that is beautifully impermanent. The marks he leaves aren’t stains, they won’t mar her forever.  

He pauses, hoping to sear the image into his memory, then starts to run the cloth over her body, cleaning up the mess they made.  

The sun has just started to peak its head out over the horizon by the time they are cleaned and back beneath the warm covers of their shared bed. Hints of pink and orange creep into the room as they lie, limbs intertwined in a tender embrace.   

“I love you,” she whispers, sleep heavy in her voice. A finger traces the spiked ridges of his ribs.  

“I love you too,” he breathes with a kiss to her temple. He’s never been so sure of something in his entire life.   

She’s fast asleep before long, breath even and rhythmic. His tail hooks over her waist, hugging her closer and he can't help but smile to himself. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of her steady breath before quickly joining her in slumber.