#I still don’t know Spirit’s personality truthfully

[smilesrobotlover]

I just realized that I accidentally wrote some of the dads similar to the Links that are not connected to the dads.

Leon and Warriors: self proclaimed leaders of the group. Takes the journey seriously and feels responsible for everyone’s wellbeing. Have some anger issues but they have a soft spot and love their friends. Kind of a pain to deal with since they’re very anal about things.

Sky and Rusl: the heart of the group and keeps the group together. They allow everyone to rest when they’re pushing themselves too hard and keeps things lighthearted. They love their wives unconditionally and are also very… VERY deep sleepers. They sorta balance out the strict leaders.

Kass and Legend: the positive kind souls that are comforting to be around. They have a chill attitude and keeps the energy down when needed. They’ve explored the whole world and know a lot to do with different places and environments. They’re musically gifted and relax the group with many songs, legends, and stories.

Ammon and Minish: the certified grumps of the group. They’re not actively grumpy towards people, but they get annoyed very easily. They’re rather reserved and keep to themselves, but they’re strong and capable, vital to the group. They’re not grumpy all the time, but they seem to be grumpy whenever they’re interacting with people. But they are pretty friendly when you first meet them, sometimes.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

“Wait for me” dead!Macaque x living!reader (1.5k words)

A/N: I know I’m mixing pantheons but I’ve been back on a musical hype and this time around it’s been Hadestown. I love the musical too much and it came to mind when listening to “Wait for Me (reprise)” that the Orpheus and Eurydice characters would work for Macaque and another person. Although terribly angsty I must fulfill my heart's desires.

The reader is currently walking up to the living world after convincing the god of the underworld to go on a trial to get their lover the Six-Eared Macaque back home with them. The trick is that if they look back at Macaque before they reach the surface he has to go back to the underworld.

otherwise known as the Orpheus and Eurydice myth from the author Virgil and/or Ovid

This story is told from the reader’s perspective who knew, met, and fell in love with Macaque before his confrontation with Wukong. So it might seem that they’re being too hard on Wukong for killing his sworn brother when they yell at him but they don’t know everything that happened between them. ***Only the rumors of Sun Wukong from local towns and what Macaque told them.*** So I just wanted to make that clear.

Although you knew you had begun the trial and Macaque must have been behind you, you couldn’t hear him and yet still you walked. Step after step of hoping you weren’t tricked by them. All you wanted to be back in his arms, dancing in the moonlight and counting the stars until dawn arrived. You remembered it as clear as day. You were just on a walk with him, strolling through the woods and laughing about a forest spirit you had run into who mistook you as being kidnapped only to apologize when it was clear you both were in love.

It was calm and quiet as most days were but Macaque heard something, someone, someone who he once called his brother. They hadn’t seen each other in centuries and the last they saw of one another wasn’t pleasant. At least that’s all that Macaque had told you and insisted that it was too painful to talk about which you respected. You both trusted each other more than anything and you hoped it’d get you through everything.

You didn’t know what caused that fight or whether it was fate or a coincidence that they saw one another that day after almost a thousand years. Flashes and shouts could be heard as they both clashed against one another. For a demon, the fight would be easier to see but you could only catch bits and pieces of the battle, seeing both celestial primates create big craters in nearby mountains and strong gales whipping across the land surrounding them.

Truthfully you were terrified for your life a couple of times as trunks of big trees were flung your way and when gales of wind threatened to carry you off the ground. Through all of it, your eyes desperately searched for Macaque in hopes of seeing anything pointing to his survival. That moment almost froze in time as someone whom you now recognized as Sun Wukong “Great Sage Equal to Heaven” stood over your lover. Before you knew it you raced to where they both were and ignored the scrapes and cuts you got from recklessly running through a battleground.

Sure you heard the rumors of the Monkey King traveling west from folks in nearby towns or villages but the demon you saw before was nothing like you had heard and you saw him raise his staff high. You wanted to cry out, scream, do anything to get him to stop to your voice failed to obey you. He fiercely growled before yelling and striking Macaque who lay at the bottom of a crater covered in severe injuries with his staff. Most notably three large gashes over his right eye, the blood hadn’t clotted yet and you doubted it would even if he came out alive.

You let out a sob as you thought about those last couple of words. “if he came out alive”. Catching his gaze for a second those few seconds held a thousand words. Despite the shadow of death inches away from ending his life, he still smiled with so much love in his eyes and hoped that you could continue to live your life with the promise of finding joy in the smallest things. He wished that you could forgive him for leaving you so soon when he’d assured you so much love and happiness in your future.

Both of you wanted time to stop, for anything to stop the inevitable, a miracle to happen. You couldn’t though. The last thing you would ever see of him would be through your warped teary vision, his midnight black fur caked with thick blood and deep cuts decorated his strong-built body. His beloved scarf that he treasured so much lay on the ground torn severely and a mix of blood and dirt obscured parts of his beautiful vibrant six ears; now partially covered in small cuts on the edges of each colorful lotus petal-shaped ear. Although one of his eyes had been badly damaged surely beyond repair you could see his gold shining eye meeting yours and sharing one last glance before the red powerful staff came down on Macaque.

Sun Wukong had light tears falling down his cheeks and slowly approached the now-still demon’s body with shaking hands, letting his staff fall from his grip and clattering to the ground. There was so much conflict in his expression and hesitation as to whether he should even touch his fallen brethren but you rushed in. Dirt, blood, and bruises clung to you as you tumbled into the crater and collapsed on your lover, sobbing harshly at the reality now hitting you and gripping the soft torn yellow and black fabric of his layered hanfu. You cried out in pain not caring about the outside world because if something happened to you then at least you’d be reunited with one another.

A firm hand gripped your shoulder and tried to pry you off to no success, his insistence on getting you to safety and pressing the message that no mortals should be here fell on deaf ears. You didn’t care about the things you said getting up weakly and shoving the Monkey King’s chest with shaky hands. “I don’t care! You killed him! You bastard! He told me you were once close.” you shouted and raised a hand, slapping the left side of his face hard and seeing him hiss through his teeth when you hit a deep cut on his cheekbone.

The world was silent. Not a leaf fell or animal chittered. Only when you turned around to go back to mourning the death of someone you loved so much and knew they loved you just as much did you hear the footsteps of others. Probably the Great Sage’s companions who came to see who the victor was. You could feel 5 pairs of eyes on you and guessed the dozens of questions they had of why a random mortal was crying over a powerful demon’s corpse. One of the travelers came towards you as you cradled Macaque in your arms, an unkempt pig demon walking towards you and gleefully shouting, “Don’t cry beautiful mortal. You’re saved from the horrible demon that kidnapped you, and his power is gone! Let us help-” he was cut off by Sun Wukong tugging him back before he could touch you.

You did your best to hold in the sobs and despair you had, forcing yourself to look up and focus on the demon responsible for all of your pain. “Go. Go and live knowing you not only killed someone close to you but broke the heart of his lover. I’m sure he’s resting peacefully now.” you spat. After a few tries you managed to pick Macaque up with his head resting on your chest and carefully walked back near to where you both lived. You didn’t bother to see Sun Wukong’s expression when to told him who you were to Macaque and how it cracked into shock and anguish.

That had been almost 2 months ago until you’d finally found a local mountain god that accepted your offering in exchange for information about how to get to the underworld and after you made your trek through hell you bargained with King Yan for your lover’s soul. Another rock bounced off your shoe and hit the gravel path. You couldn’t hear his footsteps or voice or breath and you questioned if he was even behind you at all. Memories of the good times you both shared pooled in your mind and allowed a soft smile to sneak up on your face. How you had both first met because of him mistaking you for an easy victim. Safe to say he failed to do anything because you fought back decently.

Your meetings were always by surprise at first but then Macaque began to show up regularly and seemed more curious about what you did and who you were. It was obvious he could do something else rather than “wasting” time on someone he failed to kill but you caught his interest. The same game was played fairly often until a week passed when he disappeared and you thought that was it. You were happily surprised when you went to your regular sight to gather herbs and saw sizable bundles of each herb you usually picked tied up all in a basket. Macaque ended up rising from the shadow of a nearby Rainbow Gum tree and apologizing for disappearing but offering to repay you. That night he confessed underneath the stars looking at the moon while he told you stories he heard during his travels.

A bright light blinded you in the dark tunnel that was now slowly opening into the base of the mountain you entered hours ago and you fought through the tight v-shaped opening until you reached the edge where obsidian-shaded gravel met the healthy forest floor. You couldn’t tell if it was you or Macaque who let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re here.”

[colourstreakgryffin]

Whilst I work on my other better Hashira things. Take this other thing I also had buried away on my phone for ages

Best Friend/Platonic! KNY Iguro Obanai

Mainly platonic but a bit of sprinkled conflicted romantic

A very tough one to befriend due to his intense fear of women and withdrawn nature but you did it! And Obanai adores you as a whole for you sticking by his side

Obanai constantly follows you around(unless Mitsuri is nearby). You’re his safe spot and he lives off that gorgeous aura of yours. Your very kind spirit makes him feel welcome

Even if Obanai is slightly older, he clings onto you like a child and whines for your attention. Somebody wants to steal his best friend? God no, not happening ever!

Obanai is quite the silent man but with you, he opens up a lot more than one would expect, both in and out of public. He hasn’t shown you what’s under his mask nor told you his past but only because he’s afraid you’ll run away

Obanai writes letters to you like he does to Mitsuri. His are mainly detailing his missions or about his hangouts with Mitsuri but some are a bit more personal when you wish

He compliments you. Obanai is a complimenter so when he feels like he should, he’ll boost your confidence and your self-image. He will never let you think you’re ugly or gross, he’ll make you feel as if you’re on-top of the world

“You, hideous? That’s a bad joke, Dokusha. You’re beautiful— No, I mean it, your beautiful, your fun, your sweet, your skilled. I don’t know what that asshole was thinking but nothing he said is true. Yeah, your skin is flawless, you have the silkiest hair, the most gorgeous eyes, your smile’s so precious. Forget him, okay, I’m here now and not going anywhere”

“I’m too kind? Isn’t speaking the truth and lightening up your day what best friends do?”

He also sends you random gifts when he sees fit. He has no reason to, he just thought you’d like whatever he found and figured he’d bring it to your attention. Other-times though, he does it cause he believes he must spoil you

Obanai rants about Mitsuri but not too much as he knows that you’re well aware of his deep feelings for her. He just needs to vent out his passion and you always listen. Yet, he apologises everytime for “wasting your time”

You could bust into Serpent Estate and voice act being a demon hunting him down, and Obanai would still be happy to see you. He knows you’re just playing with him and he’s getting better at easing his seriousness down for your outgoing nature

Obanai has a very dark sense of humour and you’re known as the innocent jokester of the Hashira so he has been improving himself and getting a hold of a safer humour so he can impress you. He wants you to think he’s wholesomely-funny so he tries to be that

Talking about those Estate visits, it’s regular than somebody like Obanai would tolerate. He needs his beloved emotional support when he needs her and sends you a gloomy letter asking for your presence

Obanai isn’t a really touchy nor affectionate best friend but he does like giving hugs whenever he wants. It’s mainly after meeting up with Mitsuri, he gives you a soft hug with praise falling out of his lips for the help.

Obanai is extra sweet when you’re openly upset or in your feels, he’ll let you lay your head on his lap and/or hug his side and cry. Anything to make you feel better as he plots the death of the person who hurt his beloved BFF

“Listen to this one, Dokusha. I made it up. What kind of tea is hard to swallow? Reali-tea” Cut to a concerned Obanai hovering around you as you choke on your laughter. He’s trying for you and you’re so proud of him for it

You’re his wingwoman when it comes to Mitsuri. You helped with the idea of gifting Mitsuri those socks and you help build up all that confidence to attend the restaurant get-togethers with Mitsuri. You’re truthfully like the only pillar keeping Obanai from crumbling apart when he‘s spending time with Mitsuri and he is so grateful for you helping

Obanai is the type of best friend to submit to your requests, even if they’re very minor. You want him to tell you more about his feelings, about his issues. He’ll send you letter telling you everything you wanted and maybe more since he trusts you

Trust is a massive piece of your bestie-ship with Iguro Obanai. Even though it took quite some time for him to develop it, his trust in you can’t be broken now, it’s too strong. Like his love for you, he believes you aren’t capable of doing wrong but there’s just some pieces of information he refuses to tell you out of fear

To make it fair, Obanai needs you to confide in him too. Don’t hide what’s going wrong, he’s here for you! Just tell him that you’re upset over your crush rejecting you and he’ll hightail it to your Estate with your favourite treats. He cares intently for your feelings and won’t tolerate anybody that breaks your heart

“Oi, fucktard. Don’t you dare ignore Dokusha! She’s the Ice Hashira, give her the respect she deserves. What will I do? Make you regret every decision you’ve ever made in your worthless life”

Obanai is the overprotective best friend type. In a fight against a demon or at the fleet market with a mean shopkeeper, Obanai will fiercely defend you like his life depends on it

You(and Mitsuri) are the only two people person in the entirety of Japan that are allowed to nickname Obanai! You mainly nickname him “Obi” and he is so use to it that it’s weird to him, when you call him anything else

Iguro? Obanai? Who in the actual f**k is that? He’s Obi, Obi-sash, Obi-Nobi, he’s never heard of that other guy before in his life!

Would Obanai develop any sort of non-platonic feelings for you? I believe at one point; he would consider it and be quite conflicted over it for ages. He knows he does feel some romantic love for you but he knows he just can’t! He doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t want to ruin his insanely close connection with you and he‘s still in love with Mitsuri! Against a half of his heart, he makes it official that that you must remain in the friend-zone

Obanai likes to hold your hand as much as he can and the soft squeezes reassure him that you’re not going anywhere

Regularly takes you to nice restaurants for lunch catch-ups/hangouts. He believes the best place to wind down and relax is at a table with food and you by his side chatting about random stuff as he remembers each important point and writes them all down in a mental note

Like mentioned, Obanai remembers everything about you. Well… actually, everything he prescribes as the most important. Mention a birthday date once and Obanai will never forget it. Yeah, his devotion for you may not be like the one he has for Mitsuri but he still values you intently and keeping track of the special things to make you happy

Loves going on missions with you. He feels more at peace, less stressed and being able to have you so close by gets rid of the constant worry he has; will you ever come back alive? If you’re right there, Obanai doesn’t have to work with that horrible sting in his chest

Will always catch you if you fall, will always support you if you’re down, will always pick you up when you can’t stand anymore, will always protect you and help you when you’re in pain. Obanai will always be around and doesn’t consider you a afterthought(well… unless he is with Mitsuri), you’re a priority of all things

He loves you so much that it hurts. He didn’t think he could meet another woman that’d win him over but lord behold, the world proves him wrong once again and he values you, a woman, highly enough for him to proudly call you his one and only best friend

“We got a mission together, I hear. Would you like to go to that new restaurant afterwards? There’s a dessert I know you’d love. Yeah? Great, follow me… and hold my hand”

(If it’s not obvious, I’m a Obanai whore that wants to frik him)

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑

summary: in the quiet nights of liyue, you may hear it; a lonely song echoing in jueyun karst...

pairing: xiao x gn! reader

warnings: angst/ comfort, survivor’s guilt, allusion to self-sacrifice, taking place after the perilous trail quest

The air was silent as the world stood still, no animal cry to be heard, no grass blade to be moved. As always, the mountains of Jueyun Karst was the ethereal depiction of grace and tranquillity. Yet, in the night’s peace, a hauntingly beautiful melody hung like mist between the clouds of Qingyun Peak and filled the air with sorrow and mourning. Despite mortals avoiding the mountain passage, some have borne witness to this song, spinning tales and myths recounting the story of a lonely spirit wandering Liyue in search of… Well, people weren’t quite sure.

It wasn’t the first time the young yaksha sat atop one of the Karst’s many floating islands, his back against cold stone, amber eyes shutting out the present. Perhaps it was the closest he would ever get to a moment of rest, lamenting his friends’ passing so many centuries ago.

Lately, his tune had taken on an even more sombre tone, fresh emotion bleeding into his cries. Xiao despised himself for his moment of weakness, whether it was being helpless when his fellow yaksha suffered or coming here instead of abiding by his duty.

Truthfully, it was no longer only because of his contract with Rex Lapis he vowed to keep the nation safe. No, despite his best efforts to strictly separate mortals and adepti, someone had worked their way into his heart; someone who was good and whose smile Xiao wanted to preserve forever. Someone who didn’t deserve to be tainted by his karmic debt but who he couldn’t pull away from now that he had embraced them.

But it wasn’t only the guilt of endangering the person he loved which weighed on his mind. After a new light had been cast on an old mystery, Xiao had inevitably been forced to face scars which ran deeper than he’d ever like to admit. And with that confrontation came the remorse he so desperately tried to push further down every day he walked the mortal plane.

From the first time he had picked up a spear, Xiao had been a weapon, a lethal pawn pushed around on someone’s chess board. Fortunately, he was given the opportunity to atone for his previous sins with his duty as a yaksha, his fellow kin by his side.

They were the ones who had always longed for a mortal life, the ones who had believed they’d one day all be accepted into a society not meant for them. Yet, he was the only one who had received an invitation to mundane life… The only one who didn’t deserve it.

Back in the chasm, he should have—

Then, he heard it- the slowly approaching footsteps, the rustling grass, the animated breathing, he heard it all. But it was only the familiar touch on his shoulder, paired with the call of his name, which caught up to him and woke him from his sorrowful dream.

“Here you are,” your familiar voice said. As if the sun had started to rise in the dead of night, an inner warmth soon filled him when you took a seat next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind me being here but I was just really worried.”

“Worried? What for?” Amber eyes focused entirely on you before scouring the area. “Is someone threatening you? Are you being followed?”

“No, silly,” you soothed, placing a hand on his, which had instinctively wrapped around the jade spear by his side, “I’m worried about you, of course. You seem more troubled lately and I don’t know how I can help or if I can help at all. I just want to be here for you.”

You could tell Xiao was searching for something in your eyes before he broke your gaze. Many times you had shared your troubles with him and pride had filled his chest at the trust you put in him. Never once had he even considered the thought of ridiculing your struggle, no matter how major or minuscule it might have been to him. So perhaps, he too could confide in the person before him?

It might have been the calming sway of the qingxin flowers surrounding you, the approaching morning sun or the genuine love he saw in your eyes but, on top of those mountains, Xiao recounted as much as he could, shared as many memories as his brain provided him with. And although he laid them out for you to see, the yaksha felt less empty than the whole time he kept them all inside.

“I’m the only one who didn’t lose their life,” Xiao shakily breathed, voice quiet and meek. “I’m the only one who didn’t have to suffer.”

“Oh but you suffered greatly, can’t you see? Every day, you fight this feeling and endure this pain. And you lost so, so much,” you said, a warm hand sheltering his heart. “You lost your friends, your family, who you loved and cared for. What greater loss could there possibly be?

“I can’t promise that things will be okay because I frankly don’t know if they will be. But I’d like to believe so. We can’t go back to the past, we can’t undo what we’ve done and, even more so, we can’t undo the things we didn’t have any control over in the first place. So, sometimes, all you can do is take a deep breath and start again.” Trying to collect your thoughts, you lifted your head from his shoulder. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to accept joy and happiness without drowning them in guilt. Everyone deserves to be happy, that includes you.”

“Do you really think that is possible?” Xiao hesitantly reached out to intertwine your fingers, emboldened by the way you reciprocated his motion. “For someone like me?”

“Yes, I do, truly. If it makes you feel any better, I’m very grateful you’re still here. And sure, I could feel guilty about enjoying your company when I know of the burden you bear. But there are moments in life where you have to be selfish,” you whispered before placing a soft kiss to his forehead, where a beautiful purple mark sat. Cupping his face, you took in his watery golden eyes and gave him an understanding smile.

“So I selfishly chose to love you.”

tag list: @mccnstruck @teyvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm

send in an ask to be added or removed ♡

[neetily]

Ch.2 So, Reddit... AITA? — (SDV) Kent

— ✧ chapter warnings: depictions of trauma, family trauma, misogyny, sexism, slowburn, dumb reader — ✧ word count: 2,751 — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ synopsis: AITA (47M) FOR FINALLY FOLLOWING MY DOCTORS ADVICE?

— ✧ A/N: enjoy my old man ramblings.

previous

“How is it?” You ask innocently enough, though he doesn’t miss the hint of desperation in your voice. Soft quivering lips, as if he’s somehow caught you doing something bad, but that couldn’t be the case, right?

Truthfully, he’s impressed already with your skills. Any more pandering and he’s liable to act out, which would only cause more issues for himself. Remember, Kent, he thinks to himself. You’re here to relax. And, mid chew, he supposes that your sheepishness is to be expected. You are dating his son, after all. It’s understandable that you’d want to make a good first impression, and yet still his lips press into a thin and telling line anyway. This is nothing more than formalities, a useless way to spend his time.

He’s only three spoonfuls in before your question too, rushing him to quickly swallow his fourth just to answer you. Couldn’t you have waited for a pause to speak? “It’s all right.” He deadpans, only briefly looking up at you through his brow before digging back into the lovingly prepared meal, another greedy spoonful already lifting to his lips.

See, lying comes naturally to him. Embedded in his very existence, buried deep in his bones as a means of survival, even when lying to himself. A skill not formally taught, but rather something akin to natural talent, and he’s aced every class. It only takes him a few seconds before he checks for your reaction, satisfied at the small pout his critique causes. Truthfully, the meal is perfect; no faults. And this, too, annoys him.

He’d sooner die than play his hand so soon. A hidden battle contained solely within himself; and yet still, he refuses to lose.

“I’m glad.” You smile pitifully, and he feels a spark of something in his chest. A jolt of understanding, perhaps. A kindred spirit, absolutely. You too, he thinks, are a filthy liar.

Thankfully, silence befalls the table besides the clattering of metal on ceramic due to his unfair response, and he finds himself ruminating to the shared rhythmic taps!

It’s been difficult since returning home; far more than he’d ever expected, or even liked to admit. Between dealing with his wife’s expectations of the man who left all those years ago, to trying to make amends with his two sons—Vincent far too young to truly hold any real grievances, but Sam on the other hand…—he’s scarcely had the time to just think. How does one return back to normalcy after, well, you know. Even the word war rests thickly at the back of his throat, burning bile against his teeth, leaving his lips dry. Forces him to grasp at the glass of water you had thoughtfully placed on the table for him to take a selfish gulp to try and easy the upset. As if doing so would bring him some sort of clarity on how to become a person again, mimicking your easy actions to somehow remember what being human is really like. It helps that your cooking is good at least, just like the old saying. Every greedy mouthful of the perfectly executed risotto—one of his favourite meals, mind you—worms its way down to his heart and rests there instead of his stomach. Maybe that’s what drew Sam to you too.

“I do hope you enjoy your time here,” you interrupt his thoughts with that sickly sweet tone of yours, his brows furrowing in an attempt to focus on anything other than how your voice goes right through him, and how his skin crawls at the feeling of being seen. “And don’t worry about helping out around the farm! I know Sam mentioned something about that, but really, I’ll be fine by myself!”

The more boyish side of him wants to grunt and groan about how Sam should be helping you himself instead, but therein lies the crux of the broken relationship they share. Instead, he opts only to nodding back at you, resting his spoon in the mostly eaten bowl of risotto and pushing it more towards the centre of the table before offering you some half truths.

“Doc said it’d be good for me t’get back workin’.” It’s part of the reason he even agreed to come stay with you for the week anyway. Surely you know that, so he’s irked that you’d pretend otherwise.

“No, I know…” You laugh awkwardly, matching his actions by setting aside your own spoon before collecting both bowls and placing them in the sink. Routine, likely. It’s somehow familiar to him. And he watches you carefully as you do so, not missing the way you gently lower the ceramic into metal to make as little noise as possible; just like how you ate. It’s annoying having people walk on eggshells around him like this, to treat him like a ticking time bomb, even if deep down he knows it to be true. Fuck, he just wants to be normal again. If he ever finds out who told you to treat him with such care and consideration he’ll be sure correct their stance thoroughly. Probably Sam, right? He’s over here fucking you every night, whispering sweet nothings down your ear. It makes the most sense for his own son to divulge such needless information late at night, the day before his dad arrives on the farm. Now, be careful around my old man, he’s got a bit of a temper; Kent can practically envision the scene perfectly, his fists balling in assumed anger. “But rest is important too. I just don’t want you to feel pressured.” You finish up your sentence, giving him a soft look.

He takes it as pity.

And he fucking knows how wrong it is to feel sickened by how kind you are, to want for more than anything to bite the hand that feeds. But what is a sheep to a lion, really? Having you lay your belly bare for his viscous teeth to sink right into is all too tempting, regardless of what the doctor orders. It’d be so easy to prove how capable he is, too! Which is perhaps the worst part of it all. The fucking restraint it takes not to bark back at you, the innate want to be the enforcer rather than the coward.

He takes a breather, deep and hungry. Fucking awkward, through no fault of your own; he has to remind himself.

“Right,” He clears his throat, digging through his high alert mind to find the right words to express the magnitude of his emotions. And yet, “Thanks, but I wanna help.” Is all he can come up with, answering you tersely, afraid of opening his jaw too wide and showing his sharp teeth.

Rushing water fills his ears and his vision switches to the sink, focusing on the stream rather than the annoyance he harbours for himself. Your back is turned to him, and when you merely hum in response to his obvious upset, he abruptly forces himself to look away. “All right.” You meekly offer him, busying yourself with cleaning up. Shit, he forgot to ask if you wanted help with that—

“Six A.M. start.”

And just like that, on the very first night he spends at your farm, you manage to crack a genuine smile out of him. Because orders are comfortable, he’s well-acquainted to them, and despite the humiliating role reversal, a light laugh escapes him. This, too, should have been a sign of the times

“Understood.” He replies, matching your cut and dried tone of voice with utter resignation himself.

The screech of his chair against the wooden floorboard gives him goosebumps, and he grits his teeth as he stands. It’s habit, really. Survival, right? Blocking out his surroundings in favour of merely enduring, following orders exactly like he was taught to. “G’night, then.” He waves you off, unable to meet your gaze as you send him a much chirpier sleep well, Kent! It’s not your fault that you don’t know he can’t, or that the times he can aren’t really worth the trouble thanks to the repeated nightmares. He only hopes that tonight has tired him out enough to just pass out as he remembers to close the guest bedroom door gently like Jodi had begged him to, to leave a good impression or some other bullshit. The patronising tone she embarrassed him with in front of their kids still rings in his ears even now, and his fists tighten by his side as he leans against the closed door. Fuck, he’s tensing too much again, trying to force his trained muscles to relax just like how Harvey advised, but it’s not working. It’s not working and he’s fucking angry at the way Jodi spoke to him earlier, upset at how he wasn’t able to bite back in fear of scaring Vincent off, and worsening his already dog relationship with Sam.

It’s times like these that he misses having something, literally anything, to hit.

Instead, he keeps his fists balled as he creeps closer towards the old dresser you provided him. Tiptoeing around even himself, mind racing and unsure of what he’s even afraid of. And the thought of being afraid only angers him even more, as if he has anything to be afraid of in the first place given his time spent as a soldier.

“Easy…” he whispers to himself slowly, carefully opening the drawer to access the meagre amount of clothing he brought with him on his little ‘vacation’. Home is literally just down the road, so he figured if he needed more it’s not like it’d be a hassle to obtain despite Jodi’s fretting.

But undressing in your house immediately feels weird, knowing that this space—though unlikely the one he’s currently residing in—is where you and Sam have made a home together. Not yet married, and yet still his son is ever present at your farm. How annoying. How utterly dissatisfying, souring to his mood as he gets dressed for bed and promptly tugs the awkwardly tucked in sheets out for more comfort as he climbs inside the sheets.

Laying there in the dark empty, disappointment strangles his throat. Wishing silently that he knew why it upset him the amount that it did to feel Sam’s presence surrounding him, because it makes him feel stupid for even allowing his emotions to run this far. But then, a balm washes over him, realising that he at least has a break from performing for his family; even if they’re unaware of his performance to begin with. There’s very little that he’d willingly admit to them, Jodi especially, and his faux doting attitude falls under that category. It’s nice to finally just be himself for once in the quiet of your farm that you’ve graciously provided him, even if he feels like some sort of intruder peeping in on your private life.

And, as far as first nights goes, he can hardly complain overall. And by that he means that he didn’t shout once, even if it’s been difficult to keep himself composed. Still, he doesn’t trust sleep to come quietly, let alone at all. But maybe despite it all; Jodi was right about this. Maybe Sam’s begrudging acceptance was helpful too, in some odd way. It’s clear to him that his existence within your home isn’t so much appreciated as it is tolerated, and even then it’s only because the doc recommended busy hands; not because anyone else genuinely cares for his well-being. Except for maybe you, evident from the hearty meal you’ve provided tonight that he’s been missing since being home.

And possibly, this little week long trip wont be for nothing.

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

In which I cement Kent's character some more. And that's about it. (I promise the series gets smutty!)

Chapter Notes

im so worried that this chapter is so boring lmao but i think thats because i’ve never written a slowburn before? im trying to make it somewhat realistic, but still engaging, so i hope this chapter is fun even if it might not be what you’re expecting! i think at the very least, it solidifies kents characterisation some more, and i personally had a lot of fun exploring this little scene. anyway anyway ENJOY thank you for your patience!

“Careful.” He warns you on the first actual day of his stay. Honestly. Women, right? It’s now that he can see the full effect, or lack thereof, of impact his sons stay at your farm has had on you, and he can’t help but grind his teeth in annoyance at the utter vulnerability you show him. The absence of a good father figure must have turned Sam soft, unable to help guide you on how to do things better, or when to simply shut up and let a man take care of you. Jodi’s influence, no doubt. Women, right? The likely cause behind the current unfortunate situation you’ve found yourself in— again. A knowing sigh soon escapes him following his tense reprimand, trailing his gaze up at you with the tutting tone your actions force out of him. Not out of worry, but out of mere convenience. A selfish want to have the day go as smoothly as possible for himself, rather than because he thinks you ought to get down from there for your own safety. He’s already got two kids of his own, he doesn’t need to look after another one.

Regardless of his inner scoldings, he squints at you from his position on the barn floor with interest, heavy work boots idly kicking at some stray hay strewn around the place while he rests his weight on an admittedly much shorter than him rake. Sure, he should be working away like the doc had kindly ordered him to, but it’s much more amusing to watch you struggle to install a new light fixture instead, all the way up at the top of the barn like an idiot. A relatively simple task, don’t you think? And yet still, he doesn’t miss the way the wood creaks under your uncertain steps, dummy. As far as first impressions go, he’s gotta say… You could be doing so much better. Oh, but don’t worry! He’s watching the precariously wobbling ladder you’re climbing with hawk eyes, much to his utter curiosity. The lightbulb is propped in your mouth and disallows you from countering his stern word of advice, which gives him enough satisfaction to smile at least. Yeah… At the very least, you’re entertaining him. Not so much impressing, if you cared.

Besides, you are safe with him keeping watch. A learned behaviour from his time away from the valley, where he had no choice but to pick up the skill of people watching. Had to always be aware, constantly eyeing the horizon line for any signs of danger, just in case. And right now, you’re being pretty dangerous. “Yeah, yeah…” You mutter past the lightbulb, finally at the top of the ladder with one hand gripping the splitting wood so tightly that he thinks that half the reason why it’s creaking so much is from the strength of your grip, and the other starting to shakily unscrew the broken light before you chicken out. You wear misplaced confidence well, he finds himself thinking. And then, promptly sulking about.

What’s worse is that from his point of view, all he can really see is your backside. Just like the first night in the farmhouse, back turned to him as you washed the dish he just ate from. Only, right now, your ass sticks out even more for him as your knees wobble from under you. Like a newborn deer, begging for some guidance. Anyone would undoubtedly enjoy the view, but he feels a certain twinge of guilt in his heart when taking a longer than usual look at it, unwillingly appreciating the swell of your ass as you surely struggle to replace the bulbs efficiently. Serves you right, he muses to himself to soothe the ache in his chest. He did offer to do it for you, but something about your determination to prove your usefulness as you declined him was attractive. Shut him up in favour of watching you struggle. Attractive in a… Future father in law sense, yeah. Just looking out for his son, making sure his future is secured with a good wife. That’s all. Nothing… Ah, nothing else.

Though now that he’s stuck thinking about it, you do have a nice figure. Knowing himself, it’s likely a big factor as to why Sam is so into you, too. Like father like son, yeah? It’s not like he’s exempt from appreciating the view, he reasons with himself. Especially considering he’s not even looking at you in a perverted sense anyway, he’s just admiring the nice ass right in front of him. There’s nothing wrong with appreciating! Just like how he struggled to tear his eyes off of you on the first night with your apron. Staring, swallowing, slowly, hunter stalking prey. He’s just looking for your weak spots, he tells himself. And then right at the back of that is his more rational side of his brain with: liar.

“Ugh, it’s stuck.” You draw him out of his absentminded gawking, and he huffs in prepared annoyance. This should have been an easy job, if only you hadn’t let your pride get in the way of his help. And then again a bolt of understanding hits him, lightning forcing his back straight to fully focus on you. He’d have done the same, kindred.

“Did ya try turnin’ it the other way?” He yells back at you, rolling his eyes at the way you let out a stupid little gasp. Promptly mentally chastising himself when his first thought is cute. Jus’ a reflex, s’all. There’s no weight or worry to the intrusive thoughts, surely.

“Thanks, Kent!”

“Yup.” He grumbles to himself, taking a gander out of the barn and into the open pasture that moves before him, without him, as you busy yourself with your stupid task. Shoulda been done a while ago by now. Irritation present in how tightly he holds the useless rake by his side— not that you’d be able to notice from all the way up there. And even then, he’s not even sure what he’s more irritated by.

Your helpless display of incompetence, or the fact that he’s not really annoyed by that at all.

Exhaling heavily, he leans harder against the too small rake lazily. But, y’know, despite it all, he finds himself suppressing a smile. It’s nice here, he settles. In spite of currently experiencing his first full exhausting day with you, where you quickly clued him in on what a complete clutz you are by way of attempting to show him how the sprinklers worked, instead facing their relentless torrent which, unfortunately for you,left your shirt all soaked for him to witness with peeking glances. Like the start of some cheap porn plot, except he knows better than to continue the story line. Idiot, maybe if he was younger he’d have acted upon his rash thoughts, but you’re lucky that he’s stronger than his urges. He thinks you caught him staring at least once or twice anyway, given how red your cheeks were all morning when giving him tasks, catching his gaze landing on you every now and then, but it could have been caused by the embarrassment after changing too. Don’t matter to him, he still got the eyeful he wanted. Then, to make matters worse, you panicked with the misfortune of leaving the gate to the barn open during feeding time, and it’s a good thing he was there the help too! The training the army provided earning him better than average stamina for any man, let alone one of his age, allowing him to easily round up your strays while you frantically held onto the ones that stayed behind. And to top it all off, you ended up dropping and breaking your fancy new metal ladder when he wasn’t looking, leading to today’s pathetic display.

He should be more annoyed than he currently is, but he can’t quite put a name to the emotion he’s feeling. A deep burn in his chest, something akin to spotting a helpless animal by the wayside.

It’s easier if he doesn’t think about giving it a name.

And despite all that, he seems to be smiling more than usual. And that must be a good sign, right? It’s real nice to be around a pretty girl again, at least. Even if you irk him sometimes, and he can’t believe just how dumb you really are, or how you can manage to confidently call yourself a farmer at this rate. Despite it all, he’s smiling. All it’s taken is one day on your farm for him to wonder just how any work gets done around your place under normal circumstances, and he can do nothing but smile about it. Isn’t that just so bemusing? So completely and utterly incredulous to think about. So much for that good work ethic you impressed him with on night one.

Although, he must admit, that it’s inspiring to see just how unstoppable you are in the face of so many challenges— made courtesy of yourself, of course. You don’t stop. And there’s something familiar about that.

A cow dead eye stares at him as he’s left alone with his thoughts and he hums back at it. Daisy you called it, right? Or was that another? He briefly wonders if this was one he helped coral back home for you today, but no matter how often you point out their differences, they’re still all the same to him. Cattle. Livestock. Prey? You know, cows are said to be good luck omens in certain parts of the world, offering abundance. Whether that be in wealth, resources, or even love.

He thinks they’re pretty ugly up close, though. Must be because you’ve used up all their good luck.

He only manages to stop staring at the animal because the wood next to him sways a bit too much for his liking, and his attention is immediately drawn to where you teeter at the very top, clutching the ladder for dear life as his rake drops far faster than his brain can even prompt him to do so. Instincts kick in and he stretches his arms out as if on command, ingrained within him to help. “K-Kent?” your voice wavers, and his heart drops as the scene plays out in his mind a second before it happens. It’s funny how much he can predict about you; your hesitation will be your downfall.

It all happens so fast that it appears as a blur to him. A mix of genuine fear and anxious resolve moving his body for him, automatically, like a flashback. Even the sweat that drips down his already tacky forehead is the same as back then.

You fall, obviously. There was no other way to end your little showcase of courage. Right into his pre stretched out arms, his knees bending to soften your fall as much as possible; because despite his rough exterior, he’s not heartless. He would hate to see harm befall his sons soon to be wife, under his care no less! And so down you tumble, right into his arms, as if this were some sort of romcom he was actively living out. All the way down to the way you let out a cute little squeak upon landing, huffing with fear as he holds his own breath in anticipation. His hand automatically grabs at your ass when he knows that you’re safe and sound, and not just a small feel either. A proper squeeze that could be dismissed as worry over your safety, but he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t anything else after all that teasing you had him endure. Repayment, he thinks. For keeping you grounded when you’re too silly to ask for his help. You ought to rely on him a little more, for God’s sake.

And he has to resist the urge to tell you told ya so when you peer up at him, biting his tongue to hold back some sincere laughter instead. Because after all is said and done, he fucking knew thatyou’d need his help in some way, some how. And it’s funny, now that he’s secured your safety.

At the very least, life on your farm has proved engaging. Far more than home, where the most action he gets is having to yell at Vincent to stop searching for bugs, or long walks to shake off the bad vibes of the house itself.

You let out a soft little gasp, finally calming down. But it registers far differently in his brain, prompting him to distract himself by letting out a disapproving sigh. Like a father would do. A father in law. Because that’s what he is, technically. He has to remind himself, especially when you wiggle in his hold. So small compared to him, he could reach down so easily and just take a little nibble out of you— he knows you wouldn’t complain. Couldn’t, really. Could you?

“Hate to tell ya…” He trails off, catching the way your cheeks flush under the assumed embarrassment from having him hold you like this, bridal style. It’s cute. Real cute. You really should stop that though, because it only makes him want to tease you some more.

And he’s about to follow through with the expected taunt, but your humiliation gets the better of you as you meekly avoid his gaze, wriggling around in his arms some more to get out of his fatherly grip. Shame, your ass feels nice in his big hands. “Yeah, yeah. I know…” you pout, and the disappointment lacing your words perks his mood up just a little more.

Fuck, he hates to admit that Jodi was right. That he should have listened to her words of wisdom much sooner, instead of milling about like a stubborn bull. So he doesn’t, carefully dropping you back down to your feet and folding his arms against his chest as you dust yourself off instead. But the way his cheeks hurt to smile at your bashful attitude is evidence enough that farm life might have been the cure to what ails him all along, or maybe all he needed was time with you? Immediately, the thought alone causes goosebumps to run along his body, an uncomfortable chill sent down his spine. He coughs to hide his revelation, opting instead to stare at the fallen ladder, and then up at the more broken light. Anything other than you, because he doesn’t think he can handle the sight of you for much longer before snapping his jaws shut around you.

Your irresponsibility is contagious, in the worst ways possible.

His arms flex under the strain of his thoughts, nails digging into his rough skin to deflect his impulses. What did the doctor say again? Busy hands.

“Finally gonna let me help ya, right?” He questions, clearly directed at you, but he refuses to even look your way. Survival instincts kicking in.

It takes a few seconds for you to answer, but the little huff and sigh you let out before responding dries up his throat. He’d rather you remained silent in all honesty, as compared to your scandalous resignation. Then he wouldn’t have to hide his heating cheeks from your view too. Stupid, like two fucking teens caught in the barn the morning after, the sun warming his skin is enough to hide his obvious approval, surely. The threat you offer him is overwhelming, and he can feel a certain twitch in his knuckles that beg for a wall.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

You should have let him help you out from the beginning. If you did, then neither of you would be in the position you’ve regrettably placed upon him now. He’d get to continue carrying himself with distance, and you’d remain in your place— that is, not cradled in his tense arms. And yet, he still collects the ladder for you. He still bends down to grab a new lightbulb from the box, eyeing you up as he straightens again, offering you a barely noticeable smile of idiot before fixing the fucking light himself.

The situation isn’t lost on him. Screwing in the light as he reaches a lightbulb conclusion himself. And when he returns back to the ground and feels how heavy your little hand is on his taut arm when you pat his worked muscles, he recognises the look on your face as one of understanding too.

The shared emotion makes him scowl.

[manias-wordcount]

Hello, can I ask for the second part of Yu Narukami's story in Persona 4, the part about how their relationship will be after they confess to each other. I think you have a one-shot about Yu Narukami so you should know about it. And the last thing is can you do it as a one-shot?

Mess (Yu Narukami x Reader) PART TWO

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Things don’t just magically improve overnight. 

As much as you both want them to, it just doesn’t happen. It’s just not in the cards for you. No matter how much you both wish otherwise. Because most days, you still wake up in a puddle of your own guilt and anxiety and insecurity. It’s not the same river of negative feelings that used to drown and plague you every moment of the day. But an obstacle is an obstacle. And the chokehold those feelings have on you- it’s not to be taken lightly. When you’re not careful, it can keep you in cold, dark places for long, long times. When you’re not careful, it can consume your every waking thought. Fill every bone in your body. Paralyze you with feelings of self-doubt, self-hatred, and everything in between.

That said, you have many more good days. And they always start and end with him.

Some mornings, you’ll wake up to an email from your boyfriend. Something sweet and simple. A response from something you sent last night. A greeting hello. A reminder about something related to class. Or just a simple ‘I miss you’ when you were least expecting it. And some mornings, when you’re really lucky, you end up waking up with something a little more personal, like the sound of the ringtone you’ve set for him on your phone. 

“Good morning, my love,” He would say to you. Maybe you’d still be so sleepy and tired that you could just barely mumble a greeting back to him as you struggled to pull yourself fully from your sleep. Maybe you’d be more awake and ready to receive his call. Maybe you’d be a little something outside or even in between. It doesn’t matter really. Because all you know is that it’s something that you look forward to. Something that cherish and never want to go away. Something that improves your spirit. Something that brightens your day.

Something that makes you feel a little less like the mess of a human being that your boyfriend had to drag out of the shadows and into the light.

Still, it’s all a work in progress. And in the couple weeks the two of you have been dating, things have been getting slightly better. Throughout the day, you may experience an episode or two. A flare-up here. A moment of panic there. It’s truly something that you can’t escape. At least, not so quickly now that it has built itself up in your mind with a foundation meant to stay. 

But you’re working on it. And he’s helping you work on it too. Truthfully, you still haven’t found yourself feeling the way you used to be when things were fine and dandy unless you were

hand-in-hand with your boyfriend during lunch or tugged into his side after school while he talked to his friends. But you’re teaching yourself how to stop comparing yourself to all his female friends. And you’re reminding yourself that out of everyone he could have picked in this town- out of all the amazing, talented, beautiful people who he could have asked out in this town, he picked you. He asked out you. 

And that’s what makes moments like these absolutely and utterly too sweet. 

Moments where you get to spend the afternoons and evenings with each other. Maybe you’ll be at his place. Maybe you’ll be at yours. But either way, you’ll spend those moments together with your arms wrapped around each other. You’ll spend those moments lounging on top of each other’s futons, with your head in his neck and his arms wrapped loosely around you. Sometimes he’ll read out loud a few pages of whatever book he was reading the day prior. Sometimes he’ll urge you into talking about your day and your feelings. All of the good. All of the bad. 

But in these moments, you only think about him. In these moments, he’s the only thing that exists to you. Not your teachers. Not your homework. Not the looming threat of making sure you make it home to dinner in time to ensure that your family won’t make any fuss. Not the great, powerful, and pretty Risa Kujikawa and her usual antics of always getting a little too close to comfort with your boyfriend and always toying the line in a way that never failed to get you at least a little bit frustrated. Not the amazing, intelligent, and resourceful Prince Detective Naoto Shirogane. She admires your boyfriend in almost the same way you absolutely envy her. But at the end, of the day, you’re the one who’s lucky. You’re the one with something to be proud of.

Because in these moments, you don’t even think of some of his truly close friends- Chie Satonaka and Yukiko Amagi. The selflessness the two of them show. Their poise, their confidence. Their joy and their bright spirits. All things you struggle with. All things you used to think you couldn’t achieve. But when you’re in Yu’s arms, you don’t think of them. You don’t think of anyone or anything. Except for your boyfriend, of course. Because in your boyfriend's arms, you can and could be anything. Because in your boyfriend's arms, you feel like a better person. One who has no need to compare themselves to others. One who could find their own happiness. Even if it comes shaped like the very person you’re laying on.

And sure, you still struggle sometimes within these moments. And you still come across the occasional negative feeling or thought and apply it to yourself tenfold- whether or not you actually believe that feeling to be true. You’re not perfect, you’re human. But with him? But with Yu, things start to become a little easier. Lighter on your soul. Brighter in the sky. Little by little. Day by day. 

So you’ll take these moments, and you’ll cherish them. Because just a couple weeks ago, you couldn’t even bear the thought of being around him or his friends. A couple weeks ago, 

A couple weeks ago, you were nothing. An insecure nobody. A big mess. But now?

You’re Yu’s girlfriend. And in the future, you hope to become more than that once again. In the future, you hope to not have to rely on your boyfriend for all your happiness and all your peace. You hope that all the negativity and all the bad feelings will one day go away. Or grow much more quiet. To the point where you can’t be sure they even exist at all.

But until that happens, you’ll take things slow. You’ll take the days one at a time. And you’ll hold dear every phone call and email and cuddle session and kind word your boyfriend sends our way. It’s all you can. It’s all you want to do. It’s all you can handle doing. It’s all you’re capable of doing. Because when cleaning up a big mess, you have to start somewhere. You have to start small. You have to start here. And for you and for him?

That’s more than enough. That’s more than enough.

[alexispink31]

Looking back, I’ll never tell you it was easy to get to where I am today..

I am far from where I want to be and I have much still left to learn and understand about myself and life.

It’s been a long and hard journey that has taken everything I have,

And truthfully,

Most days I don’t know how I survive.

I get knocked down and kicked around until I think I can’t go on..

But I do and always have..

You do it long enough that survival mode becomes a way of life.

Honestly, I’ve done most of the damage to myself with bad decisions and self doubt,

But that’s just part of the process, I guess.

I never thought I’d learn to rise above and find my way,

But I did and I still am, every day.

And I’m still learning- I have far yet to go.

I have days that take everything I’ve got to survive and nights that seem to never end.

I’ve been a horrible person but I’ve also chosen to do good things too.

I’m flawed, broken and messed up..

But I also have a big heart, beautiful thoughts and a kind spirit..

And it’s a battle between both sides, every day.

I have more good days than bad now, but it’s still hard.

I don’t win as much as I lose,

But that’s okay.

I’m learning, I’m growing and I’m trying to be better today than I was yesterday.

I can’t ever take back all the pain I’ve caused and I can’t undo the wrong I’ve done..

But I’m trying to make amends, rebuild trust and maybe in time, be a good person..

Or at least feel good about where I am in my journey.

I don’t like what I see in the mirror and haven’t in a long time..

But there are glimpses of hope every so often.

I know it’ll take time, but I’m working on it- working on me, one day at a time the best that I can.

So, maybe some day when you see me finally flying high and shining brightly,

I’ll tell you the story of how I found my wings..

It won’t be a tale of glorious victory and dazzling dreams..

No, it’ll be a story of failure, darkness and fighting to get better and be stronger.

It won’t be shiny and happy, but it’ll be real..

And it’ll be me.

And in the end, that’s what will matter most in my journey:

That I battled, kept going and found my way.

Overcame my failures and learned from my mistakes.

Maybe it’ll be a beautiful day, that day when I tell you that story.

Maybe not.

But it will be real.

And that’s the kind of stuff that matters.

The painful hard truths that get us where we need to be.

One glorious but messy day at a time.

[paniniichan]

Ballade of the Lost Child - Wandering / Chapter 3

Characters: Yuruzu, Niki, Madara, Rei, Tsumugi

Proofreaders: Aru, Oli

Yuzuru: Is this the script for the film? Thank you very much. 

Niki: Umm… The title is “Ballade of the Lost Children”? 

I can’t tell what the story’s about from just this.

Tsumugi: …Ah, I think I understand.

From this summary it seems like a film about a group of gods that features multiple concurrent storylines… at least that’s what it seems like.

Niki: You read that so fast!?

Tsumugi: Ahaha. Since reading is my hobby, I became pretty good at speed-reading. 

Niki: Still, that was super fast~. You’re amazing…!

Yuzuru: Even if you say these characters are gods, I can’t form a mental picture of what they’re like. I can’t quite pin it just yet.

The Japanese deities are commonly associated with the phrase “eight million gods”.¹ There are so many that it’s easy to believe one could exist for every phenomenon.

Hm? What seems to be the matter, Anzu-san?

Ah, I see.  Since the director went through all the trouble of coming here, it would be best for him to explain the important details in person.  

Director: Got it. Please allow me to explain–

This film is set in the present day. 

The main characters are smaller local deities who spent many years assembling the faith of their people and protecting their land. 

As the people have begun to lose their faith with the changing times, the local deities are losing their divinity, little by little… It’s pretty much like the world we live in.

Rei: Religious faith, hm? The people of this era do feel out of tune with it.

Director: Yes. This story is also one of children engulfed by the changing times. 

With their loss of divinity, the protagonists will gradually change from gods into mere non-humans–

During this change, they become what we call ‘spirits’ or demons.²

As this occurs, the local deities’ behaviours are also influenced and they begin to transform.

Among them, there are those who hate the humans who so callously forgot their faith, those whose “individuality” has become unclear, and those whose existences also begin to wane. 

But these gods ask themselves if it’s necessary to continue to protect this land, and by extension the people who live there. That’s the story I want to tell. 

Yuzuru: ……

This is truly… a difficult story to portray, is it not?

Niki: You think so?

I haven’t done much acting work before, so I’m not really sure which bits are difficult.

Yuzuru: This script will require us to play the role of someone who is “non-human”. Since this is the case, I am unable to rely on experience or memory for my part. How am I to perform this…?

Niki: Hmmm. I think I get it now.

Rei: Kukuku… When you think about it like that, perhaps this is a role perfectly suited for one such as myself. I am a monster after all…♪

Madara: Hm? What’s wrong, Anzu-san?

I see. Even though the roles are hard, you have faith in all of our abilities? Got it.

 I’ll stay true to my character!³ Well if the producer told me so, I guess I have no choice but to do my best ☆

Niki: Yup! I don’t really know why I was chosen. But even if I’m not good at acting, I don’t plan on cutting any corners!

Director: Thank you all for saying that!

Anzu-san. If it’s possible, I’d like to start filming soon, so could we sort out scheduling right away?

Of course, I totally understand that all of you still have your own jobs to do. I don’t want to make you go to the trouble of taking time off.   

I’d like to progress with filming within any free time you all may have, even if it’s little by little.  　

Yuzuru: …? Yes, it does seem like that. It’s as you say, Anzu-san.

It’s almost like they’re trying to proceed with filming as soon as possible, no…?

Niki: Is there a reason why you need to film everything so quickly?

Director: Truthfully, this film is being entered into a competition.

There aren’t many days left until the submission deadline. I sincerely apologise for these circumstances, but I’d like to get the filming done as soon as possible. 

Tsumugi: Sigh... A competition?

Director: You must think I’m just doing this for personal gain, right?

Tsumugi: Eh!? No no, I didn’t intend for it to come across like that!?

Director: No, it’s alright. It’s because I’m a shameful person.

I want to create satisfying movies. Although I created a small film production company for that purpose, our administration is always falling short. 

If this film results in failure, I’ll have to close the company.

In my youth I was praised as some kind of a genius… but these days I don’t even know if I have any talent at all.

That’s why this competition is my last chance. 

Yuzuru: ……

Niki: There’s no chance… Were you looking around town for actors since you don’t have any money!? 

Director: Well, um. It costs money to hold auditions, you know? We don’t exactly have the extra funds to do that~. 

 Even if we did make an offer, we’re such a small company that it’s difficult to ask agencies or theatre troupes. I was actually turned away at the front gate. Hahaha.

Ah, but you guys are different! Please don’t get me wrong on that! I seriously wanted you to appear in my film, so I ran as hard as I could despite my lack of physical prowess to try and call out to you.

I was so lucky! Anzu-san really saved me when she reached out. Fortunately, I’m now able to work with you both. 

Niki: Anzu-neesan, why’d you pick this movie for the “P Choice” project? 

…Uh-huh? Ehh~. You watched one of this director’s films from when he was a student? So you’re a fan of his!

Director: Haha. As of recently, I’ve found my past titles and reputation to be mostly annoying. 

But if this leads me toward the road to salvation, I guess I can’t just abandon my past self.

Yuzuru: ……

I thought this was a strange coincidence from the start, and there is no guarantee we will be able to win this competition for you.

But if you think so highly of us, we shall record this film to the best of our abilities.  Director: Ah, if you will, I’ll be relying on you…!

----

¹ 八百万の神 - “Eight million gods” - Meaning too many gods to count

² The character used here is 妖, meaning mysterious or alluring. It could be an abbreviation for the word “yōkai” or just mean “calamity”, but I’ve decided to leave it as spirits for simplicity.

³ 面目躍如 - Madara typical idiom meaning ‘to live up to one’s name’ or ‘demonstrating one’s worth’

[rukia-writes]

Could you do zues x reader smut or blow job please

Zeus x (fem) reader

Warnings: 18+, no minors 🔞 allowed, kidnapping, rough sex, dirty talk, king kink, Zeus.

Zeus had just been crowned King of the cosmos.

There were many tasks he had on his plate, some for business and some for personal reasons.

In Odin’s bath complex, a goddess was bathing by herself. Steam arose from bath house that covered her breasts as the top part of the bath house was roofed except a circular part in the middle. Beautiful in appearance and the goddess was rather cheerful most days however today she wasn’t in very good spirits as her father Odin had told her she was promised to a god she didn’t want.

The beautiful goddess wanted someone else, that person was Zeus.

The two had met when he was crowned king of the gods as everyone was expected to visit, and once the goddess laid eyes on Zeus she was attracted to the king of the gods.

The feeling was certainly mutual as Zeus never left her side the entire night, the two danced and chatted the whole time. Odin, watched the two carefully and he could tell if he didn’t act fast he was sure he would be welcoming Zeus as a son in law.

Which Odin didn’t want.

“But dad! You’re being unreasonable.”

“You’re still young, you don’t know what you’re in for if you try to have a relationship with him. Zeus won’t be faithful.”

The conversation at Odin’s throne room was rather heated, trying to reason with her father was impossible as he was wise beyond his years and couldn’t be told otherwise. Odin had already a arranged marriage setup for someone else, and it certainly wasn’t Zeus. As the days passed however, Odin was aware Zeus was visiting his daughter by shapeshifting into animals.

Even when Odin told Zeus that was promised to another that didn’t stop Zeus from asking for (Name)’s hand, no shame at all.

“Oh come on!”

Outside of Asgard, Zeus was trying to get in to see (Name) but it seemed like Odin being a master of spells had placed a invisible force field and forbid him from entering. Zeus wasn’t about to let this come between him and his sweet (Name), and he decided to use his head instead of his brawn.

In the bath house, (Name) was starting to accept her fate that any relationship between her and Zeus wouldn’t work and she decided to honor her father’s wishes. At that moment, a huge splash occurred in the bathouse and from the water arose a giant eagle.

It was a golden eagle which served as Zeus' personal messenger and animal companion also named Aquilla. The body guards entered with weapons ready for combat only to see the giant eagle take off and the princess no where in sight.

“Please don’t ever do that again, your bird scared me.”

(Name) was able to get a robe to cloth herself before Zeus’ pet took her away, Zeus rewarded his pet with treats and several rubs as a way of saying.

“He doesn’t bite, he’s harmless. You look great in your robe by the way.”

Letting (Name) know he enjoyed her being there Zeus complimented her, sending his pet eagle away Zeus gave (Name) all his attention. Rather he planned on it as his wrist was grabbed when he reached out to caress (Name)’s cheek, Zeus was a bit taken back as he could tell (Name) was serious.

“We shouldn’t do this anymore. We should go our separate ways.”

Squinting his eyes to get a good look at (Name)‘s face he could tell she was serious about her words. Scratching his neck while looking away Zeus was perplexed about the whole situation.

“Why? Is it because of eagle? I won’t send him anymore if that’s what you want.”

“No. I actually like your pet, it’s just we shouldn’t have to sneak around my father’s back to meet-“

“Well, I’ve asked for your hand many times and he keeps rejecting me. What did I do?”

Becoming frustrated Zeus told (Name) truthfully about wanting her to become his queen, he had asked many times.

“He thinks you’re going to be unfaithful.”

“Oh come on, what a prude. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Again, Zeus reached out for (Name)‘s cheek only for (Name) to block him again as she still had a hold of his wrist. Zeus could have easily gotten himself out of her hold and yet he couldn’t.

“We must bring this to an end. Maybe, you’ll meet someone else-“

“I want no one else.”

Zeus didn’t raise his voice but his message was well received by his love interest as he pulled her into him with his free hand and easily freeing his wrist from (Name)’s hold he gently grabbed her chin as he met her gaze with hers.

Love was certainly there.

“I want no one else, no one else will do. It must be you.”

“…I share your feelings, Zeus. But, I must honor my fathers wishes.”

It was true, (Name) wished she could be with Zeus but as a princess she had to honor her father. As much as it pained her to say those words (Name) said them only for Zeus to inch closer to her as his lips were only centimeters away from hers, his eyes locked in on her own.

“I see. But what about your king?”

Ah.

A line that seemed to pierce her heart as she felt her knees grow weak and once Zeus pressed his lips to hers the two shared a tender moment. A kiss that was so sweet anyone would be jealous and from there the two became closer.

They had a night to remember.

Zeus was an energetic lover and there wasn’t a position he didn’t like. However, he loved when he was in control as he had his thick cock deep inside the Asgardian princess needy cunt and tight cunt. Zeus had plans for the two have sex in his bath house but his bed did just as well.

While (Name) was ontop of Zeus moving her hips back and forth Zeus played with her nipples with his hands, enjoying the view as he felt amazing his cock was still deep inside rubbing her g-spot. Whenever (Name) asked how he felt Zeus would always answer with “Amazing princess, move your hips more.”

Zeus’ room echoed with moans and whimpers, many nights (Name) dreamed of this moment and now it was hers. For a moment at least, As Zeus easily lifted her up making her moan a loud of the loss of not feeling Zeus’ cock anymore. As he switched positions Zeus softly muttered something along the lines, “Now we can have some fun.” Laying down on her back Zeus raise her legs raised, ankles as far back toward her head as possible then entering her in missionary style with his hands on her ankles keeping them in place.

There was no place a Zeus’ cock didn’t touch and (Name) was certain Zeus’ cock was near her stomach, Zeus whispered in her ear “You didn’t take all of my cock by going all the way down but that’s about change.”followed by a condescending chuckle as (Name) was doing her best to accommodate his size.

It didn’t help when Zeus’ pace nothing short of rough and fast. So much so, (Name)’s world became hazy and her arousal taking over her mind and body as Zeus had his way with her, his cock kissing the end of cunt as his dirty talk was absolutely filthy.

“This. This is how you should honor your king. And just who is your king?!”

Zeus expected her answers to be truthful and to be quick which (Name) honored as she answered “You are.” In between moans as her breasts moved with Zeus’ insane rhythm. The room was not silent as Zeus was vocal and (Name) could help but moan, whimper, and cry for her king. Tears fell from her eyes and Zeus, without missing a single beat, wiped her beautiful tears away.

Toes curled, gripping the bedsheet, the headboard banging loudly against the wall and her cunt clinging desperately for Zeus’ cock. Sometimes, Zeus would lean down for a kiss as he enjoyed kissing his princess and when Zeus felt his hair being tugged on by (Name) he bite his lip holding back his moan but the words “Fuck.” And “Harder!” Left his lips.

Zeus loved (Name), he truly did but his lust for was just as equal and the two mixed quite nicely.

“Honor me. You cant honor anyone else. You. Are. Mine-“

From her ankles to her hips Zeus’ hands traveled down to gain more control which he only loved as he fucked his princess into bed with a smile (Name) would never forget, (Name) was certain Zeus earned his title fair and square as he was sending her body to mind numbing and euphoric high.

“-and I am yours. Princess.”

Finishing his sentence Zeus was certain of anyone walked by they heard his princess saying his name over and over. Zeus was certain no one could please her like he could, and no one would for that matter.(Name) wasn’t certain how much time had passed only that her body gave out when Zeus yelled, “You can cum now, your king commands it.” And following his order (Name)’s grip on the bedsheets almost ripped them, her eyes rolled back, toes curled and her cunt squeezing Zeus for all he was worth as Zeus flooded her cunt to the brim with his cum.

A shiver went up (Name)’s back as tears fell from eyes once more, catching his breath Zeus then sighed in relief as he enjoyed the euphoria of his climax. Looking down, he saw his sweet (Name) catching her breath with her arm covering her eyes with a satisfied smile on her face.

“Adorable as always, my sweet (Name).”

Kissing her forehead Zeus mentally wished no one would take her away from him.

“Sir? Sir?! If you’re finished in there Odin is here and he’s starting to attack the palace grounds.”

Zeus and (Name) heard a servant inform him from behind the door. While anyone else would have been angry that they would leave their lover, Zeus was delighted to see Odin and if he wanted a fight so be it as he leaped from the bed excited while moving around saying, “Sex and battle! What could be better!”

(Name) laid in bed wondering why Zeus was the way he was.

13 years later, Zeus and (Name) were married.

The fight between Odin and Zeus lasted for 13 days and eventually the two came to an agreement that Zeus would work for Odin for 13 years for (Name)‘s hand.

Which was light work for Zeus as he got to enjoy (Name) still and eventually the two had a baby together.

Odin was pleased as he had a grandson now and now (Name) was queen of the heavens.

🎊Rukia-writes🎊

[icedmatchatae]

No Kisses | KTH Chapter IV: Agreements

Pairing: Captain of the Football Team fuckboi Taehyung x Class President goody two shoes Reader

Genre: FWB AU-ish, enemies to frienemies? with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst?? I guess

Summary: It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

Chapter IV: Agreements || Series Masterlist

Perhaps leaving wasn’t the best idea because you were still hot and bothered and couldn’t even focus on your tasks. Not to mention that you wore a skirt and had nothing underneath. You had to be extra cautious bending down or making any movement at all. Luckily, most people were gone around this time or studying at the library. It was rather quiet, which you loved.

All you could think about was his skillful fingers thrusting your cunt hole as he curled them to your sweet spot. Him whispering those dirty words, sucking hickeys on your décolletage…

Ugh, damn him denying you an orgasm. Damn him. Damn him!

“Miss Prez?”

Your head shot up and ripped away from the paperwork on your president’s desk. Hoseok stared at you with a questioning gaze, looking like you’ve been distracted. “___, you okay?”

You cleared your throat, slowly nodding. “Of course, what’s up?” You pushed away from the papers and tried your best to stay attentive to your Vice President.

“Nothing just wanted to tell you that we’re heading out,” Hoseok informed as he shouldered his backpack. You noticed some of your council members leaving the room. You checked the time, and it was three in the afternoon. “I know you have to stay back for the banner but don’t stay too late.”

You got up from the main desk and gathered the papers to put them in the filing cabinet. “I won’t. We’re just sketching the design now. It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Are you sure? I’m worried.”

“Hobi, you have nothing to worry about. It’s just a banner,” You chuckled, shaking your head at how silly he was for being concerned.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He spoke truthfully. “I know you’ll be with him.”

Your smile warped into a frown. Suddenly you felt your heart being heavy yet empty by his words. It made you snap back into reality and away from what was leaking under you. Of course, your crush on Taehyung would be something to always worry about, especially after what happened between you two.

Hoseok knew you better than you knew yourself. You will continue to feel this way for a while, and it won’t be something you’ll forget. You would be worried about how you’ll be being alone with him again (look what happened in the lockers). But as a caring best friend, he knew you’ll be smart enough to know what to do and will support you.

“Don’t worry about that.” You grinned softly. “He’ll just like his regular self and annoy me, but that’s it.”

“Won’t it hurt seeing him though?”

“I have no choice…but I’ll deal with it.” He could only nod at you as you went on with your task. He bid farewell to you before closing the council door, leaving you alone.

As you sketched out the words on the paper, you couldn’t help but think about your feelings. Though deep down inside of you, you enjoyed being with Taehyung but being with him like that was detrimental to your poor heart. You knew how he was and where he stood.

He was never a person that settled too, never saw him in a relationship ever since you met him. You only heard person after person that saddened you, but you couldn’t do anything about it. On top of that, his “no kissing” rule applied to you. Even in the lockers, he didn’t do it. He seemed like he was about to, but it didn’t happen.

You had to stop whatever you were doing with him. You knew it wasn’t getting anywhere. You weren’t like this, but you couldn’t help but resist him. Maybe because it was the only way to be near him? Was that all that mattered? 

No, it shouldn’t. It’ll tear your heart piece by piece. You knew this. You’re better than this. You needed to be strong through this time. After this, you weren’t going to see him again…well, you’ll see him with Jimin, but you’ll be with him less. If you kept avoiding him, then he would almost be non-existent. 

Just get the shit done and move on. Sounds like a good plan.

The door slammed open, startling you and your thoughts. You couldn’t help but turn to the perpetrator with an irritated but shocked look.

Ahh, yes. The man that’s been consuming your entire being.

Except now, he was back in his uniform. He hung his blazer over his shoulder and his bag on the other. His dress shirt wasn’t tucked in, and sleeves were rolled up, revealing his veiny forearms. His tie was loose and lazily around him, and at that top of his head, the darkened locks were untamed and not bothered in covering his eyes.

For someone who was as high achieving and had a well-known status in the university, he looked like a delinquent. A really hot bad boy you would be willing to drop everything for, but let’s not.

You needed to move on and do what needed to be done. You also reminded yourself that he denied you of pleasure.

“Princess!” Taehyung sang, but the anger reappeared on you, creating a scowl on your face. “You’re staring. You missed me? We were only apart for an hour.” The classic smirk and aura bounced back as he closed and locked the door behind him. He gradually walked up and carelessly threw his bag and blazer at the nearby desk. 

“Fuck off, you fucknut!” You scoffed before going back to the banner.

“Baby, you say such harsh pet names for me.” You heard him in your vicinity, yet you refused to look at him again. If you did, you’d crack. “I told you it’s your—”

“I hate you, you asshole!”

“Kit—“

“Just shut up and help me do the work!”

“Princess, keep talking your fucking mouth like that and see what happens.” Hot breath brushed through your ear. Okay, he was right behind you, and warmth began pooling back in your stomach. His front pushed into your back with warm palms holding over your hips. “Don’t make me angry.”

“Taehyung…” You breathed out.

“That’s not my name.”

“Taehyung, we shouldn’t…”

“Why not, baby?” His nose nudged through the baby hairs sticking out of your ponytail. “You weren’t complaining in the lockers.” His lips suckled the skin behind your ear, causing you to gasp and hold onto the desk. The tingling sensation went down to your leaking pussy that betrayed you even if you were in your feelings like five minutes ago.

His hand stroked upwards before stopping at your blouse buttons. One by one, he unfastened them, eventually revealing the nude laced bra underneath your uniform. He pulled one of the cups down, your perked breast spilling out.

“Taehyung.” You squeaked as he pinched your hardened nub. Your arms were quivering, trying hard to stay up. “I-I’m serious.”

While a hand played with your boob, the other went lower and under your skirt, feeling your exposed sopping folds to him. “Fuck, you’re still so wet. Well, aren’t you prepared and ready for me?” He said it as a statement, mocking you and your uncontrollable desire. You merely whined but remembered where you were. You sucked in your lips and bit down. “You even forgot your panties with me. Were you giving it to me as a gift? Like the other ones?”

“M-more? More, please daddy.” Your cheeks burned at your needy voice.

“Awww, is my baby finally begging? I’m so proud of you!!”

You once again were weak, moaning at his touch. God, he was so skilled. You leaked more of your essence from his praise. You extended your neck back, resting on his shoulder while he sniffed your tied hair and left a trail of kisses on the length of your neck. Then without realizing it, he pushed his two cold fingers into your heat, making you whimper. You fell forward onto the desk, shriveling up into a dark hole of lust. He curled his digits in you rapidly while your legs were shaking weakly. He touched your sweet spot and battered it with his tips.

You grabbed his arm from behind you to stop him from going too fast, but he only intertwined your fingers with his unoccupied ones. “S-sir, to-too fast!” The warmth in your middle started to spread, and you felt it coming quicker than the last.

“I gotta prep you, princess.” He growled, hearing the squishy sounds your pussy made. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside of you.” He pinched your clit, making you flinch.

You mewled, trying your best to push yourself back up, but your legs were powerless over the pleasure he gave you. “I’m—I think I’m gonna-ugh-I think I’m cumming!”

He snorted, “Already? Such eager girl to cum, right?” You let out a moan as a reply, but he lets go of your hand to slap your ass, making you wince from pain and carnality. “Beg like a good girl.”

Of course, you didn’t want to beg, but his dominance over you washed your entire being that very moment that you just had to. “Please, please, daddy. Can I cum? I’ll be your good girl.”

He absolutely loved your pleading, seeing you bend over a desk and making pretty noises for him. It was too sweet for him that it made his heart skip a beat. “Okay, princess. You can come.”

“Taeh—ah, Daddy!”

You were right towards your orgasm when he pulled his fingers out of you but kept playing with your clit. You were about to protest as you thought he would deny you another orgasm. But to your dismay, you didn’t notice him taking his fat dick out of his pants. He jammed his whole length inside you to the edge without warning, which went straight into your cloud nine.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He hissed.

“Nooooo!!” You whined, but not because he put it in (you were actually glad). Your body convulsed, sending white spots to your vision. Your limbs and feet gave out, but Taehyung grabbed you from falling. He lifted one leg over the desk and held a grip on the other. However, unfortunately, you squirted again, wetting the council floor. 

Taehyung helped you through your high, gently rubbing circles on your sensitive nub and praising you. “Doing so well, baby.” He didn’t care if you ruined his pants or shoes (or his whole existence); he wanted you to feel good and make sure you were okay.

“Taehyuny, the floor…I made a mess.” You sniffled, embarrassment consuming you as you were coming down. You realized how much you hated squirting, it’s so messy, and it gets everywhere. You turned your head to see him with your cute pout. “I hate it.”

“___, it’s okay. It happens!” He leaned over to kiss your forehead. “If it helps, I love it when you squirt.”

“It doesn’t, and I still hate it!”

He frowned and did his own little pout before standing up straight. “Just for that, I’m gonna make you squirt every time we have sex.” He then held onto your middle.

“Wha—”

Your response was cut off when he pulled himself out until his head was left and snapped back into you. A little stream came out of you. You gasped, gripping onto the edge of the desks tightly. You were still a little sensitive from your high, but Taehyung showed no mercy when he rutted into you not as fast as his fingers but wayyyy harder.

The legs of the desk were dragging and scratching the floor while his grip on your waist was firm enough to hold marks on for days. You couldn’t even stand on your feet. Thighs were shaking, and your arms struggling to hold yourself up. You were basically dead weight on the surface. You were writhing away from the amount of stimulation you were getting. You couldn’t believe you were doing it in the council room, fearing that someone might walk in on both of you.

Yet the awareness of a person looking at you brought some sort of excitement to you.

Taehyung quickened his pace, making his strokes shorter but ultimately hitting the special spot in you. Your screams got louder for him to know he got you right where he wanted you. You cursed under your breath as your cheek laid flat on top with a bit of drool unconsciously leaking out of your parted lips. You gripped onto the edges as your eyes rolled back in delight.

“Baby, do you hate me now?”

“N-no.”

“Was disappointed again for you to speak like that to me.” One of his hands holding your waist pulled away to slap your bare ass, causing you to jolt forward. 

“I-I sorry!”

“You’re always sorry. Never sorry when you act out, but sorry when you’re getting punished. “His cavernous voice sounded so smooth like he wasn’t even being affected at all by the harsh movement you both were doing. He slapped you again before massaging the aching fat. 

“Didn’t mean to!” You stuttered before turning your head to face him. He took in your corrupted fucked out face that he created and could only see. God, he loved it so much. “You’re so mean!” You pouted cutely, making Taehyung soften his rage, slowing down his motion. He hated that you could turn him into mush when it came to you, but he enjoyed it nevertheless.

“Aww, baby. It was for your own good. I promise I didn’t mean to upset you.” He cooed, taking your smaller hand into his big one. He lifted the back of your hand to his pretty lips to kiss ever so gently. He continued to rub your fingers with his thumb while he stared at you endearingly. “Just be good, okay? I won’t do it again if you behave.” He said before going back to rough demon actions that you, not going to lie, have grown to enjoy. 

“Hh-ungg! O-okay, daddy.” You squirmed, tightening your clasp on his hand. “God, you’re so big!”

“Good girl.” He chuckled, pulling your weak body closer to him. “Do you feel my dick hitting your cervix, princess?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re such a dirty little president. Fucking the football captain in your council room.”

“N-no, ‘M not dirty.”

”Aww, poor baby! Did I hurt your feelings?” He spoke condescendingly, but it only excited you. Your stomach clenching with thrill. “What if I call you a little slut?” Oh no, you clenched tightly around him, hearing those words he felt and knew. “Oh, you like that? A little slut who loves daddy’s cock!”

“Y-no!” You whined, feeling ashamed and another wave coming to you again. “Yes! Ah, gonna cum. Please let me, daddy, please!”

“Little president wants to cum? Go ahead, kitten. Cum on daddy’s cock.”

You didn’t need any more time because you held his hand for dear life when you folded your body onto the desk drenched in saliva. Your velvet walls pulsated around his girthy dick. He was getting sloppy on his end to reach for his own pleasure. After a few more strokes, ropes after ropes of cum filling you up, the sensation tingling your insides. You felt Taehyung’s body rest on top of yours, kissing your shoulder and giving small praises. Your heavy breathing resonated around the room as you tried to regain some energy. 

Once he was finished, he said, “Okay, no standing up sex because you’ll fall.” He pulled himself up and out of you, making you wince from the sensitivity. He turned and hoisted you up and sat you down on a new cold desk. Your chests pressing onto each other.

“This is the last time you’ll do this with me.” You breathed out tirelessly, wiping leftover drool with the back of your hand. You grimaced as you felt some cum leaking out of your hole.

“Maybe I’ll just keep you flat onto a table.” He ignored your statement. He bent down so that your foreheads touched as he gazed into your eyes. Obviously, he had that post-sex appearance, but his pupils said another thing. They looked at you with serene care that lured you in…enough to lean forward as you stared at his reddened lips. Your submission got the best of you. You pursed your lips all while closing your eyes, thinking how it felt to—

“Baby.” He leaned back, causing you to lose balance, but he caught you again. You opened your eyes in shock before landing on his guilty-looking ones. “I-I can’t remember? No kisses.”

Fuck, you forgot about his rule again. What you did made it look like you were desperate for him, and clearly, you weren’t..right?

You cleared your throat, taking in the slight rejection before nodding. “No kisses.” You were so embarrassed that you needed to cover it up. But with what? 

You got it.

Anger.

Out of nowhere, your expression was filled with rage as you pushed him away from you. “Clean everything up!” You demanded, pointing at your mess and your cum-leaking cunt. “You made this happen!” He was surprised by your action and your unwelcoming demeanor. It lowkey terrified him but also turned him on so well. 

All while his half-softened dick was out and twitched enough for you to glance at it.

Damn, he still looked huge, but you pushed that thought away and met his fearful expression. “Go get supplies from the closet!”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” He rushed towards the closet to clean the mess.

-

After cleaning and making everything in tip-top shape like no fornication and squirting happened within the room, you both decided to call it quits for the day and go home. Taehyung offered to drop you off. At first, you denied, but he insisted, especially since you were limping. You heard him chortling, which only made you give him a deadly stare that made no effect on him other than how cute you looked.

Since you walking around like a bus hit you, Taehyung wrapped one arm around your shoulders and another in front of your waist. Again, you told him you didn’t need his help, but he was adamant. You couldn’t help but get those damn butterflies when he kissed the top of your head and snuggled his cheek into your hair to sniff your scent.

You shake his head, questioning why he would do that. How can a person not kiss another but do these types of things? There has to be a valid reason for it. But it did make sense for him to not kiss you since you weren’t…well, you didn’t know what you were to him. You couldn’t help but think that you were most likely a quick, accessible fuck that pained your heart. 

The sun was setting, and his car was one of the few in the parking lot. Once you reached his car, he opened the passenger’s car and guided you in before going on his side. The ride to your apartment was quiet but not awkward. While driving, he took your left hand and intertwined your fingers with his, also earning a few kisses from him at every stoplight.

You both arrived at your building complex, and before you could get out, you called for him. Your eyes met his as he waited patiently for you to speak again. He offered a soft grin that made a thump in your chest.

You began, “Look, I know we argue a lot and insult each other—”

“We also fuck.”

You threw daggers at him that made no difference in the arrogant expression he had on. But he noticed how serious you were and nodded for you to go on. “Whatever we do, can we just push our differences aside and focus on our tasks.”

“We do do our tasks.”

“Yeah, but you tease me…and other stuff! We need to cooperate.” You countered, feeling tired of explaining this. What does he not get? “This means as much to me as it does to you. We need to work together and efficiently. After this, we don’t need to deal with each other any longer.”

When you spoke that last sentence, hurt appeared in Taehyung’s eyes. He didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to keep you as close as possible. But judging by your expression, it seemed bound to happen. If you said you would do it, you’d do it. You never went back in your words. But still, at the very least, he wanted to keep you near him even though it was temporary.

So he agreed, “I’m willing to do that.” His acceptance made you sigh in relief. “If…”

You spoke too soon.

“Why if??!! Can’t you say yes already? We’re both getting something out of the events!”

“Because I’m selfish.” He shrugged, being nonchalant unbeknown that his palms were sweating for what he was about to say. “I’ll only do it if we continue what we’re doing.” He spoke out, but you were caught off guard at what he suggested. 

“What do you mean what we have?”

“You know what I mean, kitten.” He smirked after he poked his tongue out briefly to lick his lips. He tilted towards you until your faces were centimeters away, noses almost touching. “You…me…you under me, you on top of me, in bed, sometimes in the car, maybe the classroom, I don’t discriminate.”

Dear God, his eye contact was so strong that you could not look away. His cocoa-brown irises illuminated in the setting sun while his skin glowed under the tangerine lights. “I-I—that’s a bold suggestion you’re making…”

“Come on, baby. Please?”

You would say yes in a heartbeat, but your ultimate goal was to get over him. You knew that being tied down in a relationship isn’t something he’d want, and though you hopelessly accepted into sleeping with him, it didn’t mean anything. Most importantly, he didn’t kiss you, so you became a statistic.

Of course, you didn’t want to tell him that truth, so you decided to say, “Taehyung, I know you get around. You have people lining up for you.” You weren’t lying per se, but it was part of it in some sort of way. “We’ve been in danger doing it without protec—“

“I know you just called me a whore, and I’m willing to admit it.” He interrupted you. “However, I never do it without a condom. I’ve been clean, I promise.”

“But—“

“My last hookup before you was months ago, which was the longest I’ve been out. You don’t need to worry.” He was being determined for you to agree. It would seem like he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but you weren’t saying no to him, so there was a light of hope. “I can make you feel so good. I make you feel so good. I want to do more like putting my fat dick into your small mouth, tying you up, blindfolding you, making you beg for more. I just want your pussy and yours only. “

“Taehyung!” You whined, hitting his shoulder. A peak of blush shined through your cheeks. You palmed your face to hide the embarrassment of his words for you…because you liked what he was saying. You could feel him grinning at your response, knowing you’re slowly accepting him and his offer. “Will it just be you and me?” You said quietly as a mouse. You dropped your hands on your lap and looked up at him with your big-doe eyes, which tinged his insides.

Kim Taehyung was a weak man.

“I’ll make that happen, princess. Only me and you.” Out of nowhere, he leaned forward to peck the tip of your nose. “However, I think I need to make it clear once again that I do not do kisses.” You nodded sadly, acknowledging the times you’ve tried kissing him. “But that won’t mean I won’t enjoy my time when I’m with you. You and I will have fun. I like spending my time with my ___.”

The emphasis on my really tugged on your heartstrings. You like the sound of it and were about to agree until you said, “If you hurt me, it’s over. I will destroy you. That’s a promise.”

He laughed soundly, though deep down, he was scared. “And I promise too, princess.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll do it!” You officially accepted, and you couldn’t believe you actually went through with it. You leaned back into your seat, feeling defeated yet glad. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m using my body to get you to do shit.”

“Hey! You’re using my dick too.” He smiled triumphantly with his ego bleeding with pride. He pulled your chin to face him with his thumb and index finger. “And you like it, don’t you?”

You didn’t want to say yes, so you scowled and pouted at him. But judging how red you were, he already knew his answer.

“Well, then…” He moved closer to you. His lips touched your ear as you felt his warm breath hitting your earrings and cartilage. “How ’bout round two at my place?” 

[witchhuntress]

Fuyumi Ono Q&A (Part 1)

I fell asleep🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🤣🤣🤣Was so tired last night to edit/format this fsdfsdf There are a lot of questions asked so I estimate there will be 3-4 parts of this (as usual with the old scans I have, it 's rather hard to see some characters due to the state of the copy, so I will post by batches at a time besides posting other updates). I will post the fanarts in the future as well, but will have to see if I can get my old laptop to run ( it has become a slowpoke & troublesome throughout the years but hopefully I can retrieve my old files soon).

Shibuya Branch Office

I have finally cleared my workload and am ready to launch a *new series.

Truthfully, we should have launched it in March. Ho-ho.

However, we have not decided on the illustrator for the new series yet. Even if the manuscript is ready, it will not be published into a book, which is the main deal of all this, if we don’t fix that...

Q1: How do you decide who will illustrate the books?

The author usually makes the request first. After a discussion with people in the publishing house, they decide who they would like to work with and ask if they can work with them. The illustrators have their own circumstances, so it is actually very rare that the author’s request is granted easily.

…As that is the case, only god knows when the book will be released… Aha-ha-ha (powerless laugh)

Requests for illustrators are still possible right now ⭐️Write to this person! Come write a letter to “the editor in charge of Fuyumi Ono”⭐️

Q2: Will there be any new characters in the second part of the Evil Spirits series? (Also, will Madoka-san appear regularly?)

I am not sure if Madoka-san will regularly appear. She might not appear in Volume 1… I have a hunch… But… I wonder (this author is random).

A new character will appear. What kind of person they are is still a secret⭐️Let’s just take note that they will be Naru’s rival (laughs).

Q3: I have a question about “I Can’t Sleep Due to the Abundance of Evil Spirits”. Ubusuna-sensei cursed Naru with hitogata made through Enmi, and a passage says that “Kazuya Shibuya” was written on it. But I just realized that Naru is “Oliver Davis,” so “Kazuya Shibuya” should not be his real name. So why was the curse directed towards Naru? Is it possible to get cursed as long as the target is fixed, even though it is not their real name? This is one among many questions I have.

In such cases like curses, it is said to be more effective on an alias than a real name. That is why celebrities change their stage name according to **onomancy.

Q4: In “I Can’t Sleep Due to the Abundance of Evil Spirits,” various people like Silvio Meyer, Nina Kulagina, Edgar Cayce, and Jeane Dixon were mentioned, but do all of them exist in real life?

Each of them, ***except the Davis brothers, are real people. However, ****Taunus-san doesn’t exist in real life. A person named Taunus might exist though. ...I am really an idiot (;_;)

That’s right, I received many comments that the Fudō Myō-ō seal “may be wrong.” There are two theories on the documents I have on hand, and certainly, there is a strong possibility that they are indeed wrong in number (Ho-ho). Whether it’s a different view or an error in the documents themselves, it is currently being investigated, so please bear with it for a while (The documents are not to be read, but to be grappled with, aren’t they…?).

Q5: Is “Fuyumi Ono” your real name? One more question: What I’ll be asking might be unrelated, but you’re a woman, right?

“Fuyumi" is my real name. It has no meaning besides that I was born in winter. My sex is female. I have never had a DNA test done(^_^;)

Q6: What kind of clubs have you been a part of?

I have been in various clubs including track-and-field, theater, and brass band (I am a jack-of-all-trades…).

Q7: What is the length of the novels you write? For example, in “Sea of Wind, Shore of Labyrinth (1)”, how many hundreds of sheets of paper with 400 characters each are there?

Usually, it’s about 400 pages. I think "Sea of Wind~ (1)" is about 260 pages. Since the paper is thicker in WH, the book will be thicker than TH, even with the same number of pages.

Q8: Will you abandon a rejected manuscript? Naru and the others won’t save you even if something too good for a ghost shows up. Haha

I will not abandon it. I will use it when I get the chance.(^_^)

Q9: Will this newspaper continue even when the second part of the Evil Spirits series has been released? Will the short stories too?

It will continue. Rest assured.

🥰

NOTES:

*New series refers to Akumu no Sumu Ie at the time of this Q&A (around 1994?). This seems back when all the short stories have not been fully released as well.

**Onomancy is fortune-telling of a person’s name. The reasoning for why aliases prove more effective to be used in curses is probably due to the specificity that it is made or chosen. That is, one can have the same real name (same Chinese characters & character strokes for Japanese names, for example) as someone else, but those who have the same real names might have different nicknames, especially or uniquely referring to them. Onomancy helps in choosing lucky names, so that is probably why celebrities refer to it to make their stage names. 

***Ono-sensei is simply saying Naru and Gene are fictional characters (i.e., there are no Davis twins with psychic powers in real life), not that she didn’t base their surname and so on on a real person. In retrospect and at first glance, this seems to go against what I mentioned before—that Naru and Gene could be based on real people—but she did not refute that (confirmation by omission?😅😅😅the compound word she used that means “except” can mean “in addition to” or “besides” as well). She clearly meant the psychics the asker mentioned are real people. The similarities of Andrew Jackson Davis’s life and abilities with Naru and/or Gene’s are still there and hardly coincidental (A.J. Davis retired in Boston, which is where Naru and Gene were born. He was also a medium). Also, this connection between A.J. Davis and Edgar Cayce is interesting (and these two were popular psychics in their respective centuries, with A.J. Davis being born first). There’s also the bit about A.J. Davis having a “guiding spirit”—which if you think about it, parallels the situation with Gene being Mai’s guiding spirit and telling her info no one else could have accessed. I think it’s safe to say that there are obvious connections here and there.

****Not sure if I got the name Taunus correctly. It can be either Towners or Thaunus too. Some foreign names in Japanese syllabification have no ready equivalent, and authors might create their own Roman alphabet spelling of it.

Silvio Meyer was said to be a Swiss psychic who has PK (there are only a few mentions of him in a few articles, but not an encyclopedia online). It was said he could bend metals, but he was caught cheating (Ubusuna-sensei seems to be a parallel of him, isn’t she?).

Nina Kulagina was said to be a Russian psychic with PK as well, and was also caught cheating many times lol.

Edgar Cayce was dubbed as "The Sleeping Prophet" since he was said to be a clairvoyant. He founded a non-profit research organization.

Jeane Dixon was said to be an American psychic and astrologer who foretold the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

Sea of Wind, Shore of Labyrinth is one of the volumes of Ono's other series, The Twelve Kingdoms.

I believe TH means Teens Heart and WH means White Heart. In full names, they are Kodansha X Bunko Teens Heart and Kodansha X Bunko White Heart; they are Japanese publishing imprints. TH has now been dissolved.

For fun, I ran onomancy on Mai and Naru's names! I will post translations of the interpretations soon as well since they seem interesting! I will also run the rest of the SPR gang's names XD See you on the next part!

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Ivy & Stone, Chapter Seven: You Consume Me, Miss Florence

pairing: victorian au!frankie morales x ofc (Florence), victorian au!javi g x ofc (Florence)

chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, love triangle, period realistic class dynamics, period realistic gender dynamics, infidelity, angst, oral sex (both recieving))

word count: 6.9k

series masterlist | team ivy playlist | team stone playlist

The winter chill had begun to turn into frost, the glass on the windows in Florence’s bedroom covered with ice that almost look like crystal. Tiny fractals displaying the wonder and beauty of nature blurred her ability to look out at the garden she so dearly loved as she sat getting her hair brushed by her lady in waiting, Josephine.

“Have you started to think about your hair for your wedding day?” the woman not much older than Florence asked in her typical soft and dainty voice, somehow penetrating through Florence’s constant stream of thoughts of Frankie since the night of the Christmas dinner.

Florence cleared her throat and shook her head, her eyes lowering to her lap to watch as she bloodied her cuticles with her incessant picking.

“No…I haven’t,” she admitted in a small, almost shameful voice.

Truthfully, she hadn’t given much of any thought to the wedding itself, though the groom lived permanently in the halls of her mind. As far as Florence was concerned, the wedding was her mother’s. It was the marriage itself that belonged to her.

“Lord Javier is so sweet with you,” she offered, hoping to lift her spirits a bit. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a man dote on his betrothed the way he does with you.”

“Yes,” she agreed, cracking a smile into the mirror as she thought about the way Javi’s hand felt holding hers, his gentleness and warmth never running out no matter how cold and harsh the world around them became. “I’m quite sure I managed to find the only decent lord in society. It’s a shame that his kind of love is not the standard. Every woman deserves to feel the way he makes me feel.”

“And isn’t it a marvel that you’ve managed to find that sort of love twice?” she asked with a knowing smirk, watching as Florence sighed and looked back to her lap. “He’s been asking about you, you know.”

“I do not wish to know about any of it,” she croaked, already feeling her throat swell with longing. “I have moved on.”

“I do not wish to upset you, Flo,” Josephine walked around the chair so that they were face to face, kneeling down in front of her and clasping their hands together. “Francisco is my oldest friend, and you are my dearest. It pains me to see both of you hurt one another this way. Can’t the two of you find it in yourselves to make amends with one another?”

“There is too much to amend,” she sighed, her brows furrowed. “Too much love is still there for me to ever be his friend. And Javi…he’s been so understanding about it all, but I fear it’s getting to him more than he lets on. So I am trying my hardest to let Frankie go. Once and for all.”

“If two are tied together with a string and one decides to cut themselves loose, isn’t the other still left with what remains?”

“Only if he chooses to hold onto something severed.”Florence stood up and walked to her wardrobe, slipping her shoes on quietly, as though the conversation never happened at all. “I believe Javi is coming to say goodbye. He’s heading back into town with his parents today. I’ll be following him tomorrow so that we can spend the New Year together.”

“Ah, yes,” she played along. “You gifted him tickets to the ballet for Christmas, correct?”

“Yes,” Florence beamed. “You should have seen him. It was like he’d never received a gift before in his life.”

“I suppose that can’t be true,” she chuckled. “Perhaps it was the thought behind the gift. Or simply the person giving it.”

“Perhaps,” Florence agreed with a proud smile. “Come on then, I don’t want you to miss your breakfast.”

“You worry over me more than my own mother, Flo.”

“As do you,” she countered with a smirk. “It’s what makes our friendship so special.”

As the two young ladies made their way down the grand staircase, they could hear Lady Elizabeth chatting someone’s ear off in the study. Judging by her elation and higher pitched voice, she couldn’t have been speaking to her husband or any of Florence’s siblings. No, the only person that seemed to pull such a girlish voice out of the woman was—

“Javi,” Florence greeted with a wide, beaming smile as she rounded the corner to the study, spotting her betrothed sitting in an armchair by the window with her mother and father. Florence excused her Josephine to go to breakfast before joining the trio by the window, taking her seat on the sofa beside her father.

“Your mother was just telling me about your parent’s wedding day,” Javi filled her in, his voice polite but his eyes screaming for rescue from the conversation.

“Well, I hope neither of you mind if Javier and I go for a stroll,” Florence suggested, giving her father her most innocent look to win him over.

“Make sure to bundle up before you go,” he ordered. “It’s terribly cold outside today.”

“Of course,” she kissed his cheek and stood up, holding her hand out for Javi. “Let us go, then, my love.”

Javi was quick to take her hand, allowing her to lead him out of the study and into the foyer where she kicked off her slippers in favor for warm riding boots. The lord could hardly keep his eyes or hands to himself as he waited for her to layer her coat, scarf, and gloves until she was properly bundled up for the snowy December weather, stealing pecks at every opportunity.

“Shall we?” she asked as she finished her layering, hooking her arm with his and giving him a smirk. Javi’s grin ached his cheeks as he nodded at her and reached for the front door handle, content with the little bit of alone time they were about to be given, but much to their surprise, Frankie stood on the other side of the grand entrance, his fist held up as though he was just about to knock on the wood before it opened.

Florence’s lips parted as she took him in, the bags under his eyes deepening by the day, his skin loosing its golden glow and turning an ashy, dull shade instead. She watched his adam’s apple move as he swallowed thickly, his eyes raking over her face before lowering to where the couple was connected, Florence’s arm hugging Javier’s tightly.

“Good morning, Mr. Morales,” Javi greeted politely, tipping his head in a small nod. “My fiancé and I were just about to go for a stroll.”

“It’s quite cold,” he husked, voice raspy, tired, and small.

“Yes, well—“ Javi placed his hand on top of Florence’s as it rested on his forearm, squeezing it. “I will make sure to keep her warm.”

Frankie wanted to scoff. She could see the flicker of a smirk on his face as he thought about filling Javier in on all the nights he’d kept Florence warm, but he restrained himself.

“If you don’t mind,” Frankie pointed behind them into the house. “I’m late for breakfast.”

“Oh, of course,” Javi nodded, moving himself and Florence aside so Frankie could squeeze past them.

Florence felt her breath hitch in her lungs as Frankie’s arm brushed hers, his signature earthy scent flooding her senses as he passed her. She mustered the strength to swallow the whimper that threatened to spill from her lips at the brief moment of closeness—the closeness she hadn’t got to feel from him in weeks.

“Are you ready, mi amor?” Javi asked, pulling her back to him with just his voice. Florence nodded and resisted the urge to turn her head around to watch Frankie’s back as he walked down the hall to the kitchen.

As the couple began their snowy tread through the garden, Javi leaned over and placed a kiss upon her temple, humming against her skin.

“I’m excited to be back in the city with you,” he confessed. “Too many eyes out here in the country.”

“Yes,” she nodded, cracking a smile. “My parents are terribly overbearing.”

“I wasn’t talking about your parents, mi amor,” he whispered back, earning her eyes on his. “I can see how his presence affects you. I worry as long as you’re out here, I’ll never get the chance to prove to you that I’m worthy of your heart—your entire heart.”

“Javi,” she sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. “Don’t.”

“I don’t mean to start a fight, my love,” he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“I know,” she nodded.

Javi remained silent, though the hurt in his eyes was loud and clear.

“Javi,” she stopped him, moving to stand in front of him, her hands perching on his chest. “I adore every bit of you. You do not have to win my heart. It is yours. I…do not love Frankie anymore. I simply…feel sorry for him, that is all.”

“Mi bonita,” he gave her a tilted smile and pinched her chin. “You are not a very good liar. Not with me at least. I can see right through it.”

“I want to mean it,” she admitted in a small voice, her eyes falling to his chest.

“I know you do,” he cooed, stroking his gloved thumb over her cheek. “It will get easier once you’re away.”

“You’re so…understanding,” she noted, bringing her eyes back to his. “Where did you learn to be so good? Certainly not from your father.”

“In a way, it was him who taught me. He taught me that I wanted to be nothing like him. I didn’t want to live my life cold and closed off, judgmental and harsh…cruel,” he exhaled, his eyes closing as memories of his childhood flooded his mind. “When I love someone, I don’t wish to beat them into submission. I want to understand you, to learn you, to help you…to love you for who you are.”

“This is why you do not need to win my heart over,” she reached to stroke his hair back. “You are so worthy of all the love in the world. Whatever I must do to give myself over to you completely, I promise, I will do it.”

Javi leaned down to press his cold lips to hers, their noses icy as they bumped together. Florence gripped the lapels of his coat and tugged him tighter against her while he kept his hands on either side of her face.

“Te amo,” he whispered against her lips. “Te amo.”

“I love you, too,” she pressed her lips against his cheek and kissed him there. “Let’s go back inside. We’ll catch our deaths out here if we stay much longer.”

“I’m afraid I already spent too much time here,” he sighed, nuzzling his cheek against hers. “I have to get back to my parents so that we can set off.”

Florence frowned against him. “Be safe until I get there. Do not let Seaworth talk you into any mischief.”

Javier chuckled and nodded. “Mr. Seaworth has gone back to Paris.”

“He has?”

“Yes,” Javi pulled away and nodded as he combed her hair out of her face. “Perhaps I’ll tell you why once you arrive in town. You are still staying at my family home, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she grinned at the thought of sleeping under the same roof as Javi.

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it then,” he smirked back before pecking her lips once more. “I’ve got to go, mi amor. Let me walk you back.”

Once back in the warmth of the Bell family manor, Javi squeezed Florence close once more, swaying her a bit as the couple relished in their final moments alone before they were pulled apart for an entire day.

“I’m going to miss you,” Florence whispered, her voice full of sincerity. Javi pulled back just enough to give her a smile, his hands sliding down her arms until they were clasped with hers.

“Not nearly as much as I am going to miss you, mi flora.”

“Are you on your way, Lord Javier?” Lord Thomas entered the foyer with Lady Elizabeth, Anna, and Leo in tow.

“Please, I’m going to be family soon. Just call me Javi. And yes, I’m afraid I must be going.” Javi let go of Florence, though his hands still burned from her warmth, and let out a sigh as he reached for the door handle, turning back one final time to look at his fiance. “I’ll be counting the minutes until I get to see your face again, my bride.”

Florence blushed at the nickname and reached to pinch his chin, uncaring that her entire family, save her eldest brother, was watching them. Now that she was an engaged woman, public displays of affection were no longer frowned upon, and she intended to take full advantage of that.

“Take care of my heart, it’s leaving with you,” she whispered, quiet enough that only he could hear. His grin turned into an adoring frown, his hands burning with the desire to reach out and hold her again, but his responsibility won the battle. With one last wink, he opened the front door and saw himself out, his heart throwing a tantrum inside his chest with every step he took away from her. He didn’t even bother try to calm it’s ache, hoping that it would serve as a reminder that Florence did in fact exist and wasn’t just some cruel daydream he was making up.

“He’s a dream, darling,” Lady Elizabeth chimed to her daughter, but her chipper attitude wasn’t enough to earn her good graces again, Florence still upset over the whole Frankie debacle.

Florence waltzed past her parents and siblings with her chin held high, her eyes avoiding her mother’s in particular as she headed towards the kitchen for some breakfast.

When she rounded the corner, she was hit in the stomach by the sight of Frankie sitting at the large, wooden kitchen table, a half-finished bowl of porridge in front of him and a beautiful red-head directly beside him. Florence recognized the young woman as the daughter of Elise, Lady Elizabeth’s lady in waiting—Bethany was her name, if she remembered correctly.

Her bright red hair made her stand out amongst the household full of brunettes, the entire Bell clan and their staff all donning chocolate locks, including Bethany’s mother. Though she didn’t know her exact age, she looked to be around Benjamin’s age, her pale, freckled skin wrinkle and blemish free, even in the harsh winter air.

As she sat with Frankie, her cheeks red from laughing, her blue-grey eyes beaming, Florence felt that familiar fire of jealousy burn deep inside of her belly. Though she was sure seeing him with any woman would likely result in this sick feeling, it was particularly difficult to watch him win over someone so gorgeous—someone who could give him the life he dreamed of without all the complications that came along with society.

Frankie’s eyes lifted at the sound of Florence’s boots clacking against the hardwood floor, his spoon nearly dropping at the sight of her, this time unaccompanied by her betrothed. When she continued past him as though he wasn’t there, her anger filled eyes pointed forward as she walked to the stove to ladle some of the porridge into her bowl, he lost all ability to focus on what the woman beside him was saying, her voice dwindling to a hum that he could have easily passed off as a ringing in his ear.

As Florence walked behind him to grab a spoon from the drawer, her perfume wafted into his nose, nearly causing him to faint, or cry, or moan with sheer longing, the scent having filled his cabin every night in the summer. Even now, every so often he still caught hints of it when he cracked open one of the books she’d so kindly gifted him during their relationship.

“Mr. Frankie! I’ve got the best news, my father said I could go sledding with you today!” Leo chimed as he entered the kitchen and sat down beside his second favorite person in the world. Frankie swallowed his yearning and managed a faint smile and nod.

“You’re going sledding?” Anna asked as she entered the room. “Could I join you?”

“I don’t see why not,” Frankie gave her a small, hardly there smile as Florence sat down at the table in front of him, his throat clearing as he tried to muster the courage to speak to her. Before he could get a single sound out, her parents were entering the room, their observant eyes forcing him into silence.

“Could I join in on the fun?” Beth asked with a smitten grin, eyeing Frankie up as he turned to look at her. He felt his cheeks heat at her clear display of admiration and he turned back to Florence out of instinct, shocked to see her watching them with a glare.

“Um, sure,” Frankie forced a smile onto his face, glancing back to Beth.

“Where’s Benjamin?” Florence asked in an exhale, her eyes dropping to her bowl of porridge.

“He’s gone into town with Lady Maribel and Javi’s family,” Lady Elizabeth answered. “I believe a formal proposal is just days away.”

“Two weddings in one season,” Lord Thomas commented with a proud smile as he leaned over to kiss Florence’s head. “My children are growing up faster than I ever prepared myself for. Soon we’ll have an empty nest and a horde of grandchildren.”

Frankie groaned under his breath and stood up, walking his empty bowl over to the sink and whispering a thank you to Beth’s mother as she scrubbed at the dishes before walking out the back door without another word.

“You will be joining them,” Lord Thomas announced to his daughter, watching as her and her mother opened their mouths simultaneously to protest. “I am your father, you will do as I say.”

“Yes, father,” she sighed and attempted to go back to eating, though her stomach was too sick with nerves to hold any more food.

“And you,” he walked over to his wife and hugged her from behind, kissing her cheek until she giggled. “You will remain here with me.”

“Tom,” she playfully scolded, nudging her head towards their children who were used to their parents occasional over the top displays of affection.

“My word is final, my love. Now come, let the children eat in peace,” Lord Thomas dragged his wife out of the room by the hand with a grin, all three of the children rolling their eyes at the cheeky display as they watched them leave.

Florence stood up and offered the rest of her bowl to Leo, the growing boy eagerly accepting the seconds while he was still working away at his first helping.

“I shall go get better dressed for the weather,” she announced to her siblings as they ate, Anna’s eyes rolling. “Believe me, sister, I do not wish to come just as much as you do not wish to have me.”

“Anna’s just mad because now she won’t get the chance to flirt with Mr. Frankie,” Leo accused with a grin, earning a berry thrown at him from across the table.

“I think Mr. Morales is looking for someone a bit older,” Beth chimed in smugly, earning a quick shush and warning glare from her mother. Both Florence and Anna gave the pretty young woman spiteful stares, but they went unnoticed as Beth kept her eyes down on her bowl. “My apologies.”

“Well,” Florence exhaled, trying to tame the jealousy boiling inside of her at the thought of Frankie moving on. “I will be upstairs attempting to block out the sounds coming from mother and father’s room.”

“Good luck!” Leo wished as Florence started up the stairs, her heart pounding and her stomach in knots as images of Frankie on top of Beth were forced upon her mind by her own cruel imagination. She found herself literally shaking her head to get the thoughts out, but it only seemed to add fuel to the fire.

After all, what right did she have to lay claim over him or his body anymore? Especially when she was bound to another? Frankie had to watch her move on, had to think of Javi’s hands on her, had to watch the way he sparked a fire in her eyes anytime he was near. Why shouldn’t she have to suffer, too?

“Watch this!” Leo yelled from the top of the snowy hill as he began to sled down it, Frankie, Florence, and Beth standing at the bottom of the hill watching the scene.

Frankie had yet to verbally acknowledge Florence, and besides the instance in which he helped her up after she’d slipped on a bit of ice, he hadn’t done much to physically acknowledge her either.

Standing there at the bottom of the hill with the man that stirred a fire inside of her like no one else, not even her sweet, beloved fiancé, she felt suffocated by all the words she longed to say to him but couldn’t given the third-wheel following him wherever he went.

“Good job,” Frankie praised Leo as he reached the bottom of the hill, holding his hand out for the boy to help him onto his feet. “You’re next, Anna!”

“I’m a bit scared,” she admitted as she shouted down the hill. “Could you perhaps go down with me?”

“Sure,” he sighed, a bit annoyed by her persistent efforts and obvious crush, but unwilling to embarrass the young woman, just as he felt about Beth.

Florence watched Frankie as he marched up the snowy hill, his back looking just as strong and broad in all of his layers as it did when he was fully nude. She felt arousal stir between her thighs as she thought about how it felt to hold onto him as he fucked her into his mattress, his body encompassing her like the sweetest shield ever created.

“What a man,” Beth praised from beside Florence, causing the Lady’s eyes to drift from her ex-lover to her current-competition. Beth’s blue eyes met Florence’s green ones, the two seemingly communicating their mutual interest in the gardener with just a look. “Congratulations on your engagement, Lady Florence. I’m sure Lord Javier will make you very happy.”

“Yes, he will,” she nodded, cracking a transparently fake smile. “I notice you’re quite taken with Mr. Morales.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a hint of curiosity in her tone. “We have been friends for a few years now.”

“And yet he hasn’t shown any interest in you in all that time? Strange.” Florence smirked as she turned forward to watch her sister and Frankie slide down the hill together, the smile on his face bringing a more sincere one to her own. It had been far too long since she caught a glimpse at his dimples.

“Lady Florence,” his voice wiped the smile off her face, a stunned look taking over as he walked up to her with the sled in hand. He stared down at her as though there was no history between them, his casual demeanor like a knife twisting over and over in her chest. “Would you like a turn?”

Florence’s head shook, her head turning to the side to get some reprieve from his presence. “No, I’m fine.”

“Oh, come on,” Leo urged with a smile, grabbing his sister’s hand and pulling her up towards the hill. “I’ll ride with you.”

“No, I—“

“Have a little fun, m’lady,” Frankie’s voiced lowered, his tone thick with suggestion, causing her eyes to meet his. His eyes conveyed everything his lips could never utter with this many eyes on them, the slight smirk he was wearing turning her brain senseless. “Would you like me to go down with you instead?”

“Yes,” she replied too quickly. With a clearing of her throat, she attempted to gather her wits a bit. “If you think I’d be safer with you.”

“I assure you, you will always be safe with me.” There was no room for interpretation in his tone. It was not a sweet nothing or a loose sentiment—it was a fact.

With a nod, Florence headed up the hill with her ex, the snow crunching beneath their feet with every step, filling the awkward silence between them until they were at the top of the hill where no one could hear them so long as they spoke in a hush.

“Bethany seems to be quite unhappy,” Florence noted as she watched the redhead pout at the bottom of the hill.

“With good reason,” he exhaled. “There’s no logical explanation why I shouldn’t be up here with her instead of you.”

Florence’s eyes snapped to his as she watched him set the sleigh down, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at the offense written on her face.

“But here I am, torturing myself with your company.”

“You’re being cruel,” Florence sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. Frankie’s smirk faded into a frown as he watched her get into place on the sleigh before slipping in behind her. His arms wrapped around her torso, pulling her back against him until he was fully caging her in the safety of his warmth.

Florence’s breathing stuttered as she felt his thumb stroking over her stomach through her layers, his lips right beside her ear.

“Are you ready?” he husked, relishing in the gasp she let out in response to his proximity.

“I miss you,” she confessed as he pushed them forward down the slope.

Florence felt her stomach full with a frenzy of butterflies as the cold wind whipped across her face, the adrenaline from speed of the sled pale in comparison to the thrill of Frankie’s arms around her body after going so long without it.

“Wasn’t that fun, Flo?” Leo cheered as Florence and Frankie made their arrival to the flat at the base of the hill, the chill that washed over her as Frankie let go filling her with an anguish she couldn’t describe no matter the amount of fancy words she’d learned in her lessons growing up.

“I want to go home,” she announced frantically, not bothering to wait for her siblings as she marched back towards the manor, an acre or so of distance between the hill and her back door.

She felt like she was going to hyperventilate, her chest heaving in an effort to take in enough oxygen to fill her lungs properly, each time failing. Her feet sped up out of instinct, her walking turning to running in the matter of a second, tears falling down her cheeks like streams of ice at the thought of never being that close to Frankie again.

She couldn’t think up a worse fate than to never feel the warmth of his hands on her body again, but that was the fate she’d stumbled into. Once she wed Javi, Frankie would be off limits forever. She loved her fiancé enough to be faithful to him in their marriage.

But they weren’t married quite yet.

“Florence?” Frankie squinted as he tried to focus his half-asleep eyes on the woman outside his cabin door. When he finally managed to wipe the sleep from his eyes, he took in her shivering form in nothing but a pair of boots and her thin nightgown. “Christ, come here.”

Frankie pulled her inside the warmth of his cabin and walked her over to the sofa in front of the fire, his arms wrapping around her shoulders in an effort to warm her up faster.

“Were you trying to freeze to death out there?” he lightly scolded, though one look into her tragic eyes told him that his guess wasn’t too off base. “Too many people care about you, sweet girl. Please try to be less reckless with your life.”

“I…just had to get…to you,” she managed through her slowly calming shivers, her eyes avoiding his.

“What happened earlier?” His voice was thick with concern, though he attempted to mask it with gentleness.

“You,” she whimpered, breaking into a sob. Frankie’s brows were creased as he turned her face to look at him, his thumb wiping away every tear that spilled. Florence looked at him through tear-blurred eyes and whimpered before burying her face in his neck. He was quick to wrap his arms around her, holding her as tight as he could without hurting her, the sound of her sobs breaking his heart like a sledgehammer to cement. “I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“Shh,” he shook his head, kissing her temple. “Don’t apologize, my love. I was the one that…that pushed you away when I should have fought for you.”

“I’m marrying someone else,” she croaked as she lifted her head to look into his eyes, her sobs now calmed into sniffles. Frankie frowned and nodded, wiping her cheeks. “I’m marrying someone else and I love you.”

“I know,” he swallowed the lump in his throat as he studied her eyes, trying to find any signal for hesitation that would prevent him from leaning in and kissing her like he craved to do.

“I…need you,” she begged, her eyes flickering to his lips. “Just one last time.”

“One last time,” he repeated as he leaned in, crashing his lips against hers with his hands holding her face, hers gripping his linen blouse as she lived to straddle his lap. He moaned against her lips as she slipped her hands beneath his blouse, lifting the material off his torso.

“I missed you,” she breathed out as she pulled away to admire him, her lips kiss-swollen and pouty as she ran her palms across the warmth of his chest and stomach. Frankie’s hands moved to the hem of her nightgown, sliding the cotton up until he was peeling it off her body, his eyes just as ravenous as hers as he took in her bare state.

“So beautiful,” he praised as he leaned forward and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling against the stiff peak while his hand kneaded the other. Florence let her head tip back as she relished in the feeling of his beard scratching against her soft skin, her fingers threading in his unruly curls to keep him close. “Do you have any idea how constantly I’ve thought of you? How I’ve dreamed of you every night without fail? How desperately I’ve yearned to taste you? You consume me, Miss Florence.”

“Frankie,” she mewled, bucking her hips against his clothed cock, her bare pussy delighting in the friction given by the course fabric of his sleeping pants.

“Can I, my sweet love?” he husked, kissing a trail from the valley of her breasts up to her ear. “Can I taste you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, nodding quickly.

Frankie stood up, carrying her to his bed with her legs wrapped around his waist, his arms holding her tightly to his frame. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him slow and deep as they walked, each step causing his cock to brush against her center, her soft moans vibrating against his lips.

Florence’s back hit the feather-stuffed, hand-me-down mattress with a gentle thud, Frankie’s body quick to pin her to it as he nipped and lapped at the skin of her neck until her back was arching off the bed.

“Frankie, please,” she begged in a daze, her eyes screwed shut as his tongue licked a stripe down to her breasts, lewd sucks being placed upon both of her stiff peaks before he continued lower and lower until his nose brushed the mound of curls right above where she was leaking for him.

“Look at me, my love,” he ordered, still so soft and gentle even in his authority. Florence opened her eyes and looked down at him as he knelt at the foot of the bed, his face framed by her thighs. She couldn’t help the smile that broke on her face as she reached down to comb his hair back, the cheesy grin growing on his own forcing his dimple to appear. “I have half a mind to keep you here all night.”

“I want that,” she smiled wider. “But—“

“I know,” he sighed before placing a kiss to her inner thigh. “I’ll just have to learn to cherish the time I get with you for what it is.”

“Love.” His brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what she meant. “This is love. I promise you. Even if it’s difficult, complicated…even if it’s impossible…this is love, and I love you.”

“Let’s not think too much,” Frankie whispered, nuzzling his cheek against her thigh.

“Come here for a moment,” she beckoned him with a curl of her finger. Frankie crawled back up to her, his hands holding him up in a plank as he stared down at her with a melancholic frown. She pet his cheek, her eyes darting wildly as she tried to etch his face into her memory. “Is this too much? I do not wish to push you further than you’d like—“

“No,” he shook his head, dipping down to steal a peck. “I just…has he…have the two of you…”

“No,” she assured. “We’re waiting until the wedding.”

Frankie’s jaw tensed as he nodded, the news bittersweet.

“I’m yours,” she promised.

Frankie leaned in again for a desperate, needy kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. It was as though he was trying to mend all their broken pieces with the small act, but the broken glass of their hearts were in too many pieces, shards crushed under the weight of reality. Still, Florence and Frankie allowed themselves to buy into it for just a little while, her arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, his hips pressing into hers to show her the effect her simple existence had on him.

“Just for tonight,” he panted as he pulled away just enough to speak. “Be mine. Mine and only mine.”

Florence couldn’t speak with the constricting of her throat, so she nodded in agreement, more than willing to pretend everything was back to how it was for a few hours.

Snaking his body back down to kneel on the floor, his hands spread wide on her thighs, spreading them open so that he could watch as she glistened with desire for him. His brown eyes turned black, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he leaned in for a taste of what he’d been craving every minute since she was last in his cabin. With a flattened tongue, he licked a broad stripe from her entrance to her clit, circling the already swollen and throbbing bud until he felt her walls pulse around nothing.

“So sensitive,” he commented in a rasp as he pulled back to watch his fingers slip inside of her heat, the two digits curling up once they’d been pressed all the way in. Florence let out a son of pleasure, her back arching and hands gripping the blanket beneath her. Frankie wanted to watch her, but he couldn’t stop himself from bringing his mouth to her again, this time pressing his lips to her clit to give her sinful, wet tongue-kisses that had her singing his name to the gods.

“Frankie,” she whispered in a warning, propping herself up on her elbows to watch as he sloppily lapped at her folds while pistoning and curling his fingers into her heat. “I love you…I love you…I—oh!”

Her brows furrowed and eyes closed shut as her orgasm hit her by surprise, her body tensing as she fell back against the bed. Frankie kissed her thighs as he waited for her to come back to him, the aching erection in his pants beginning to become hard to ignore after tasting her release so beautifully on his tongue.

“Please,” she begged, grabbing at him to join her on the mattress. “I want to taste you, too.”

Frankie wasted no time in standing up, shucking his pants off before climbing onto the bed and laying on his back in the center of the mattress. Florence grinned at the sight of his cock at full attention, the heavy weight of it making her mouth water as she wrapped her fist around it’s girth.

“You’re so beautiful,” she purred as she kiss his hipbones and lower belly, Frankie’s fingers combing through her chocolate ringlets as he watched her with bated breath. Florence stuck her tongue out, tapping the underside of his cock against it just to feel how he twitched with need in her grasp. With her eyes locked on his, she wrapped her plump lips around the head and relished in the sight of his eyes screwing shut, his hands gripping the blankets just as she had a few minutes before. But nothing in this world could beat the sound of his moans, soft, melodic cries of pleasure that only she had the honor of receiving.

“Flo,” he whimpered and opened his eyes, a look of awe in them as he watched her bob up and down his shaft, his orgasm threatening to hit at any moment. “I…want to feel you first.”

Florence shook her head and continued even quicker, using her hands to stroke him in time with her lewd sucks. Frankie’s chest was heaving as he tried to fight off his climax, but it was no use. Between her eyes and the warmth of her mouth, he was a goner.

“Fuck!” he cried out as he started to spill inside her mouth, his limbs tingling as his orgasm threatened to pull him from consciousness.

“Mmm,” she hummed as she cleaned up everything that spilled from her mouth, Frankie shuddering at the sight. “Tastes so good.”

“Come here,” he tugged her closer until she was straddling his hips, his hands pulling her face down so that he could kiss her deep enough to taste himself on her. “Give me a minute or two to recover a bit and then I’ll give it to you however you want it, my sweet love.”

“I’m in no rush,” she assured with a smile, stroking her thumb over his bottom lip. “I’m content with just staring at you like this all night.”

“Me too,” he whispered, his dimple appearing as he admired her every feature. “Promise me you won’t go until you absolutely have to. That you’ll stay here with me like the old days.”

“I promise.”

And so she did.

Florence and Frankie stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, talking, fucking, reading, crying, simply enjoying being together again after so much hurt and heartbreak. Though they knew it was fleeting, neither of them could bring themselves to come to terms with it while in each other’s presence. For all they cared, the world around them ceased to exist and it was just them left.

When the sun started to rise, Frankie bid Florence goodbye, gifting her one of his blankets to wear for the walk back up to the estate, selfishly hoping that she’d take it with her when she left for London. He watched her in the early morning mist, leaving him to go back to the world she was bound to, his heart following her trail of footsteps left in the snow, knowing that it belonged to her more than it ever did it him.

“I trust you got that out of your system?” Florence jumped at the sound of her mother’s voice, her lithe frame leaning against the back door. “You are going to be a wife soon. You’d do well to remember that.”

“You’d never let me forget it,” she snapped, choosing to walk around to the front door rather than continue this back and forth, but Lady Elizabeth wouldn’t let the conversation die so quickly.

“Is it really so worth it? That you’d risk a man as good as Javier?”

“Javier is good, mother! He is, I know it and I love him for it. But so is Frankie.” She exhaled and looked off into the woods where his cabin remained untouched by the cruelty of her world, wishing she could remain there forever. “And I loved him first.”

“You will grow out of this—“

“Maybe. And maybe I won’t. Either way, you should be elated to know that regardless of what man I end up with, I am loved. Not for the things you value or cherish like my class and charm and wealth, but for my humility, my kindness, my…my bloody flaws! They love me for me.”

Taking a beat, Florence gathered the courage to say the last, and most important thought floating in her head, one that was sure to leave her mother speechless.

“I only wish you loved me that way as well.”

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[strawberrysatellite]

i did one thing right

inspired by taylor swift’s call it what you want

word count: 2.9k

Y/N and Harry met in October.

It was one of those super cliche Halloween meet cutes. But it was that Halloween party that brought them together, so they supposed the cliches weren’t all that eye roll worthy.

Truthfully, they already knew of each other; Y/N was what she likes to call a semi-influencer (she had a few hundred thousand followers- enough to make a living off of- but never really liked grouping herself with other influencers considering most of the ones she had met always looked down on her for not having millions of followers, and were known to be less than stellar people) and Harry was a tattoo artist. They followed each other because of some mutual friends who mentioned Harry to Y/N in passing after she had spoken about wanting to get a tattoo at some point.

So the two knew of each other’s existence, liked a few of the other’s posts, but had never actually met before that night.

Y/N was so glad to be going to a party that wasn’t brand funded or overflowing with other influencers. Don’t get her wrong, she was eternally grateful that she was in the position she was; being an influencer meant she was able to work whenever, wherever, and didn’t have half of the stresses as people with more conventional jobs. All she had to do was post her little youtube videos talking about her favourite books or the clothes she’s been wearing recently, share pictures on her perfectly curated Instagram, and make TikToks with trending songs in the background.

But it got so exhausting sometimes.

She felt like she was constantly performing, putting on a face for people to judge and critique. People seemed to forget that there was a real person behind the virtual image she portrayed; the amount of hate comments she received were nowhere near what she assumed other content creators got, but there were enough daily to where it got to her sometimes. Just because she chooses to put out content for people, doesn’t mean that she’s giving them permission to give opinions on every detail of her life.

It’s like she’s constantly just floating in this liminal space, trying to bend over backwards to please her followers whilst also trying to stay true to herself.

That’s one of the things most important to Y/N- being as true to herself as possible. After meeting more than her fair share of other influencers, she knows that most of the time the kind and polite image they project online is completely contradictory to their actual personalities.

The last thing she would ever want is someone thinking she was rude. It gives her nightmares just thinking about it. Especially considering she worked in hospitality through university before she gained an online platform, so she’s had more than enough rude encounters with the general public (and she also understands how important it is to be kind to people. And to always tip waiters.).

So really, Y/N was just happy to shed her ‘online’ persona for a couple of hours and be around her friends without feeling the need to perform for anyone or please them.

Also, she really really loved Halloween and was super excited to dress up as Juliet from the movie with Leo DiCaprio, complete with silky white dress and clip on angel wings. It was casual enough to where she didn’t feel like she was going overboard, but dressy enough to where she still felt in the Halloween spirit.

When she actually got to the little pub where Sarah had told her the group was meeting, she was met with the sight of Sarah and her long time boyfriend Mitch sat in a corner booth and dressed as Velma and Shaggy from Scooby Doo, complete with bright orange turtleneck and coke bottle glasses.

“Look at you guys! Cutest couple I ever did see!” Y/N manages to get her words out through laughs- she doesn’t think she’s ever seen Mitch in anything but black, nevermind puke green.

“Yeah, laugh it up.” Mitch’s eyes roll but he gives her a slight smile and a warm hug. That’s a secret between him and Y/N- Mitch is secretly a huge hugger. He just has to be either high or slightly tipsy to come anywhere close.

“Look at you, honey! Real life angel.” Sarah’s warm tone interrupts Mitch’s grumbling, her eyes crinkling with a smile behind her fake glasses and full fringe.

“Thank you, thank you. I do try.” Y/N curtsies and nearly falls about in giggles. “I’m gonna go get a drink and mingle, think I saw Niall on the way in.”

She sets off through the packed pub after a wave to the couple at the booth, trying to avoid knocking into people with her slightly inconvenient wings.

She likes this. Likes not being immediately recognised. Likes not being considered an internet celebrity. Likes being treated like a normal person. Loves being around people she can be herself with.

When she does eventually get to the bar, she finds another figure already talking with the bartender. From what she guesses, it’s a guy. An attractive guy.

Well, from the back of his head he seems attractive.

She guesses over 6 foot, with long hair down to his shoulders and a sheer black almost blousey shirt loosely buttoned. And the skinny jeans make him look like something straight out of a tumblr post.

Through the chiffon fabric of his shirt she’s able to see the masterpiece that is his back. There must be well over a hundred tattoos collated across it, spreading down his arms and wrapping around his neck. Most- if not all- are monochrome, and only serve to make him look even more intimidating.

Kinda turns her on, if she’s being completely transparent.

Making her way next to him to wait for the bartender to be free, she somehow manages to bump him with her new temporary appendages, startling him enough to make him twist to see who it was.

When he does turn around, she’s greeted with his actual costume: a skull painted on one half of his face and only serving to accentuate the impossibly perfect structure of his face. He has model-worthy cheekbones and brows so furrowed he seems to have been born with a frown.

Upon seeing Y/N in her angelic fluster though, he softens up and a look of recognition flashes through his eyes.

“Oh, hi. Y/N, right?” He asks, as if he hasn’t looked at her Instagram more times than can be considered healthy. Like he doesn’t view her stories daily just to see what she’s interested in and which books she’s reading at that moment. Like he doesn’t get hot and blushy when he gets the little notification to say she liked one of his posts.

It takes her a minute to place him, having been slightly caught up in the aura he radiates, “Hi! Harry…right? God, I hope you are, otherwise I’ll look like such a massive bitch. Okay, even if you aren’t Harry, please just go along with it.”

Her world stops turning when she hears the chuckle he lets out at her anxious word vomit. Like, literally stops on its axis. She’s pretty sure she hears the screech of it skidding to a halt, the elevator music that plays in her ears after her brain turns to mush.

“No, love. I’m Harry, don’t worry.” An amused smile covers his face, endeared with her rambling that he’s familiar with after watching her videos where she rants about book characters and their “stupid, unrealistic actions” and why Gus Everett was actually the best book boyfriend ever (he had no idea who that was- just took her word for it) and why her favourite Starbucks drink is the best ever and how she’s so upset that it’s being taken off the menu because it’s seasonal.

A relieved breath whooshes out of her pouted lips, face now covered in a slight flush, “Oh, thank fucking god. How embarrassing would that have been? I’ve probably made it so much worse now, huh? Nice one, Y/N. Fucking idiot.” Her eyes roll at her own actions, words coming out as barely a mumble, and Harry’s smile just grows even more.

She’s cute when she rambles, he thinks.

“Honestly, don’t worry ‘bout it. Won’t mention it. Never happened.” His hand comes up to graze her shoulder comfortingly and a tangible spark passes between them, “D’ya want me to get you a drink? We can go sit with Mitch and them lot?” Harry secretly crosses in fingers in the hopes that she takes him up on his offer.

Her smile is wide and relaxed, looking up at him like he’d just gifted her a litter of kittens, “That would be so nice, thanks Harry. Listen, don’t judge me but my favourite drink is..”

As long as she keeps smiling at him like that, Harry doesn’t think it possible to ever judge her.

Their first date is kept casual and relaxed- which you wouldn’t be able to tell by the sweat Harry is currently working up just thinking about meeting up with her for an official date- and Harry decides to take her to the shop, named Satellite Studios, after a walk around Hyde Park and a stop in Pret to get chai lattes. She had been asking him for a while now to show her his tattoo shop and some of his sketches (yes, she had seen them on his Instagram, but she was on the pull and this was the one talking point she could think of at the time- also, she truly did want a tattoo, so this worked perfectly).

Harry didn’t expect that the date would end with him actually giving Y/N a tattoo, but here he was, perched over her and inking the skin of her collarbone. She had decided on a quote she lived by- ‘treat people with kindness’.

A month or so later, and the two are freshly into couple status, still just getting comfortable referring to the other as their significant other.

It’s late November by this point, and Die Hard (the first one, obviously) is playing on Harry’s TV while the two sit on his black velvet couch, Harry sprawled on one end whilst Y/N lays horizontally and props her feet up on his lap underneath a fuzzy blanket. Neither of them are that into the film, only putting it on to fill the silence, and so Y/N decides to scroll through Instagram to check the comments on her recent post.

She had actually really liked it; the picture was one Harry had taken of her when they went to Waterstones, a puffer jacket wrapped around her while she carries a stack of books and looks back at the camera, smiling wide and mid-laugh (she recalls his joke- something about being replaced by fictional men- and a tiny smile breaks on her face when she remembers how proud he looked at having made her laugh).

Only, that smile quickly disappears when she begins to read the comments.

Of course, there’s so many from her fans and other influencer friends being so sweet and love;y, complementing her and talking about how relatable the caption was (something along the lines of “a book for every situation”). But there were more rude ones than normal. Of course she was more than used to people being rude by this point, she had been a content creator for long enough now that she knew how to compartmentalise and ignore hate. But it was nearing her time of the month and she was feeling extra sensitive and seeing people talk about how annoying she seemed, or how she looked to be gaining weight, or how they just in general disliked her, really wasn’t what she needed.

A small sniffle makes Harry’s ears perk up and his head shoots towards his girlfriend- she wasn’t ill the last time he checked, why was she sniffl-.

His face completely drops when he sees the face of his sweet girl covered in tears, cheeks glistening and flushed, lips pouted and more pink than usual, eyes watery and glassy. “Hey, pretty girl, what’s up? Come on, talk to me.” He immediately leaps up and kneels beside her, hand cradling her cheek and thumb wiping under her reddened eyes.

She just shakes her head and frustratedly wipes her face, “Nothing, I’m just being stupid.”

Harry tuts at her and reaches up with his other hand, gripping her face gently but with enough strength to force her to look at him, “It’s not stupid if it’s making you cry like this, honey. Tell me what happened, babe, let me help, hm?” He doesn’t want to force her to talk if she truly doesn’t want to, but he can’t bear to see her so distraught and dishevelled.

Her face collapses at his gentle words, “I just- people are so mean. I don’t know what I did to deserve it. They’re so- it’s just,” A heavy breath is released from her cry-swollen lips and her head leans into his palm.

“I know, lovely girl. You didn’t do anything. Don’t listen to them, they’re just bitter and projecting onto anyone they can.” He feels anger flare in the bottom of his chest. How could anyone be anything but sweet to his lovely girl? The last thing he would ever want to do would be to make her feel as though he’s angry with her, so he reigns it in for her sake, but knows that he may have to go to the gym for an extra hour to let it out.

“I just wish I could get away from it all for a bit. Like I love my job- you know I do. But it just would be nice to run away for a bit.” The words come out sad, unenthusiastic- nothing like his girlfriend normally sounds- and it haunts him. He has to do something.

That’s how the two find themselves in Scotland for a month. Just them, their rented cottage in the Highlands, and Harry’s tiny black kitten, Pumpkin. Harry had booked them a train from Paddington Station to Edinburgh that same night when Y/N finished crying, wrapped up next to him in his black silk sheets with tear tracks still staining her face.

Harry figures he can trust Mitch to look after the shop whilst he’s gone, having saved enough days up to take off for a bit (and being the owner of the shop meaning he’s his own boss and can afford to) and he tells Y/N not to even open Instagram or YouTube or TikTok until they get back home, going so far as to delete them from her phone.

“Out of sight, out of mind, my petal.” He tells her with a kiss on the tip of her nose upon seeing her slight frown.

The couple spend every waking moment together, making breakfast together in the morning (or really, afternoon considering neither of them bothers with an alarm upon having nowhere to be) and eating it lazing on the couch with an old movie on in the background- Y/N has rediscovered how much she truly loves The Sound of Music after watching it nearly daily for a month. They take walks around the lake near their cottage, skimming stones and having competitions on who can throw one the farthest; usually Harry wins, but Y/N calls it unfair everytime because of the wingspan advantage and how strong his hands are after years of tattooing. Their favourite part is how they spend the week of Christmas: they take a train into Edinburgh city centre, go window shopping and wander around the markets, marvelling at the displays and thousands of twinkling fairy lights, Harry calls his mum from the cottage on Christmas Eve and lets her know he’ll be round in a couple weeks to drop presents off, and the two exchange gifts whilst sat next to the giant log burner fireplace.

Neither went too crazy on the other after having only been official for a little over two months, but Harry gifts Y/N a new Kindle (she had been complaining for months how hers was out of storage and “soooooooo” slow) and a delicate necklace with a silver ‘H’ pendant dangling from it.

“Not because I’m like claiming you, or some shit.” He hastily explains when he sees the furrow of her brows.”But I just- I know you, sweet girl, and I want you to have a little piece of me wherever you are.” Y/N’s lip trembles at his words and she nearly mauls him with how fast she tackles him with a hug.

“I love it, H. Thank you.”

Y/N in turn gifts him a vintage Fleetwood Mac vinyl that she had scoured every London flea market for and a new sketchpad with some pencils he had been eyeing for weeks but couldn’t justify buying himself.

When the two do eventually return home, Y/N’s phone is hit with an influx of comments from fans wondering where she had disappeared to and, instead of doing the (technically) right thing and answering their questions, she decides her next post will be a picture of the chain around her neck and Harry’s tattooed hand lazily draped over her shoulder and her tattoo on display. Unexplained, but enough to reintroduce herself onto the internet after people not having heard from her for months.

She tags him in the picture, leading to his already substantial following increasing rapidly, his page (‘satellitestudios’) being mostly pictures of his work and sketches, the occasional black and white filtered selfie or picture with a celebrity client (the one he brags about most being Dave Grohl), with the most recent post being a black and white picture of the bottom half of his face, bunny teeth on full show with Y/N kissing his cheek and captioned ‘kissy.’.

Of course her fans go wild, flooding her comments with questions and labels, rumours and timeline theories. She decides they can call it what they like, but she’s happy. So very happy.

[wildely-earnest]

The Reaper

TW: Death, Child Death

There is never an easy job, for the Reaper, but these are always the hardest. The body in front of her is small and cold to the touch, and though the soul looks content, playing in the snow, it still pains her to see a life cut so short. The soul of the little boy looks up at her approach, giving a curious tilt of his head, and then holds out a snowball with a grin.

“Hello, miss! Would you like to play with me?”

“Hello, dear,” the Reaper says. “I’m afraid the time to play is over. It is time to come with me.”

“Oh,” the boy says, looking downcast. “Okay.”

The Reaper holds out her hand, and the boy reaches up and takes it. She leads him away, to the portal that will take him to the afterlife, and he gives one last glance over his shoulder – at his body – before he releases her and steps through.

The Reaper has been a Reaper for a long time. One would think the duration of service would make her numb to her duties, but truthfully it is the opposite; each day weighs more heavily on her than the last. She takes souls of all ages and walks of life to the other side. Sometimes they are surrounded by grieving relatives. Sometimes they are alone. She is not sure which is worse.

Most souls go without protest, but some scream and cry and fight to be returned to their bodies, unready to leave their lives. These will beg that there are people depending on them, that they cannot go, but the rules are strict, and there is nothing the Reaper can do but usher them along.

In the beginning, she had words of consolation for them. Now, still as unsure of what waits on the other side as she ever was, she has no such comforts to offer.

It is the middle of the rainy season, a thunderstorm brewing above, when she finds her next soul. It is a young woman, near the same age as she had been when she died, in a hospital bed with a man holding an infant beside her, tears streaking down his face. The Reaper pauses, looking down at the young woman as she parts from her body, moving over to her husband and child and placing incorporeal kisses on both of their heads. When she appears done, the woman steps back and gives the Reaper a tearful smile.

“Okay,” she says, “I’m ready now.”

The Reaper says nothing.

“Reaper? I am ready to go,” the woman repeats, taking a step forward.

The Reaper steps back. “I can’t,” she says, nearly inaudible.

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” the Reaper says. “I cannot – I’m so tired of – I can’t –”

The woman’s face melts into sympathy. “Come here, Reaper,” she says, beckoning her forward. The Reaper shakes her head. The woman steps forward and takes the Reaper’s hands, implacable.

“Reaper,” the woman says, “it is not you who ends my life. You merely take me to the next. There is no shame in ferrying the dead, and no harm in the shepherding of spirits.”

“You do not understand,” the Reaper says. “I cannot see one more grieving family, one more lifeless child, one more forgotten person. I cannot continue like this. I may not be ending your life, but I am ensuring you leave it for eternity.”

“You are ensuring my peace,” the woman says gently. “I can see this weighs heavy on you, Reaper. How long has it been since your death?”

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps it is time for you to be led, rather than leading the way.”

The woman slides her hands away, and places them on the Reaper’s staff. “It is okay to desire peace, Reaper. Do you remember whose burden you shouldered?”

The Reaper thinks, for a long moment, digging through countless memories of death for her own. “A… man. He was old and weary, and he cried when he came for me, so I took his hand and his staff and released him from his duty.”

The woman reaches forward and wipes tears from the Reaper’s face she hadn’t even realized she had shed. She tugs the staff free from her hand. “You cry now when you come for me, so I grant you the same release, Reaper.” A portal opens up, glowing soft and white and warm. It calls out to her in a way they never had before, and the new Reaper helps the elder to her feet. She guides her forward, hands gentle and kind. She looks over her shoulder one last time, and then steps into a warmth and light she had forgotten waited for her, too.

[the-blue-fairie]

for character asks I'll say Ariel, and if you've seen Strange World, Searcher? :3

I'll discuss Ariel! :)

Favorite thing about them: Favorite things about them, you mean? It's hard to confine my thoughts to just one with a character who means this much to me. I deeply relate to her sense of restless longing in Part of Your World, that sense in your life that something is off even as the world tells you otherwise, that yearning for a change even when it seems impossible. Big trans feelings there. I love her defiance, and I love that the film sympathizes with that defiance even when she makes mistakes. I love her curiosity and adventurous spirit. I love her excitement when Eric shows her around his kingdom.

Least favorite thing about them: I have an affection for Return to the Sea, even if that is largely nostalgia, and I want to say immediately that I still like the concept, but... her and Eric's handling of the whole Morgana wants to kill Melody plotline. Again, I love the basic concept of "now Ariel is in the parental role clashing with her daughter" and I feel that concept beautifully builds off her clashing with her father in the first film and I love the way Jodi Benson can convey such a sense of conflictedness and love from her tone of voice, but the basic concept gets dragged down by Disney direct to video sequel clunkiness in terms of plotting, so it makes Ariel, Eric, Triton, and everyone feel written in a contrived way.

Three things i have in common with them:

I've had a restless longing for change in my life - not because I'm literally a mermaid yearning to join the human world, but you know where I'm going here, I'm sure. :)

I have a complicated relationship with my family because of that.

I am incredibly passionate about and defensive of the things I love.

Three things i don’t have in common with them:

I cannot sing.

My hair is not as fabulous as hers.

I have never been a mermaid.

Favorite line: Ooh, this is difficult How about a few of them?

"What would I give if I could live out of these waters? What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?"

In two lines, they are able to set up so much, and do so in a way that truly and compassionately conveys a sense of desperation. God, I feel those words, and the way Jodi Benson sings "if I could live" and "what would I pay" is haunting, aching, beautiful.

And immediately afterward:

"Bet'cha on land they understand Bet they don't reprimand their daughters Bright young women, sick of swimmin' Ready to stand"

People can cringe at this line all they want, but they are wrong and making jokes like "oh honey I have some news for you about the surface world" MISSES THE WHOLE POINT OF WHAT THE LYRICS ARE TRYING TO CONVEY.

I also want to say, I love the dialogue that opens Part of your World ("I just don't see things the way he does.") Both versions are great. The film has it as "If only I could make him understand," but I prefer the version you hear on audio recordings that goes, "Maybe he's right. Maybe there is something the matter with me." Because... oh, that hits a little to close to home in terms of self-hatred internalized by closeted queer folks and it hurts, but it's able to so truthfully convey the feeling.

And... "Flounder, don't be such a guppy." I just love the playful energy of her introduction and her and Flounder's rapport.

brOTP: her and Flounder, her and Urchin

OTP: her and Eric

nOTP: her and [insert any particularly incongruous character here]

Random Headcanon: With Disney characters, I sometimes weave old storybooks and games into my personal headcanons about them, so. When I was little, we had this storybook that included a bunch of different stories from Disney characters and one of them was Ariel going up to the surface and seeing the night sky for the first time. I like to think something like that happened in movie canon.

Unpopular Opinion: I don't know how unpopular it is, but considering the general public's jokes at the character's expense... my opinion is people who blame Ariel for her naivete regarding humans and do CinemaSins style "illogic" counters should point out the illogic of Triton not laying down the law to the humans about fishing, especially considering canon shows us that, with his trident, he could have done like Ursula and visited his wrath upon them, OR, if he didn't want to go full Orm, he could just make clear that there are sentient creatures within the sea. I'm just saying, you can call out the individual with way more power in this situation, as well.

And if you're going to say, well, both he and Ariel are at a disadvantage as merpeople, then maybe turn your critique to a larger discussion of why media with these hidden underwater worlds like TLM, like Aquaman, etc., all operate on this assumption that these worlds should be invisible or hidden, and what that says about filmmakers privileging the human race etc. THERE IS a compelling critique there... but people just make cheap and lazy jokes about Ariel, when Ariel is actually the one striving to engage and do something, at least.

Song i associate with them: Part of Your World and its reprise

Favorite picture of them: This picture, from the Part of Your World reprise. It's iconic for a reason. Everything building to this moment, this whole sequence, is SUBLIME. Possibly the greatest moment in Disney animation history:

This art, by winderly:

The picture on the Ariel's Story Studio CD-ROM because it holds a ton of nostalgia:

Ariel on the cover of that storybook I mentioned above. I love how she and Flounder are right in the center, I love her smile and pose:

This art from dim-draws of Halle Bailley as Ariel:

[galactic-potterhead]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋮ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋮ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ┄ Harry Potter x Female Original Character (platonic), Draco Malfoy x Female Original Character ⋮ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 ┄ Harry Potter

𝟎𝟎:𝟏𝟐

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Note || I don’t know what I just wrote but the tears wont stop. Im in love. (Not to be narcissistic or anything-) It Was In Me by Avril Lavigne was the vibe for this chapter. Please let me know if I missed any warnings because I will happily add them!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

After facing the wrath of her mother, Avalon finds herself under the stars with the-boy-who-lived and their bond begins to form.

𝐂𝐖: This chapter will contain mentions of poverty, child abuse & neglect, character death, childhood trauma, fluffy Harry and Ava moments, anxiety.

Word count: 1.1K

<- Previous Chapter || Next Chapter ->

The night sky twinkled above like a hoard of fireflies, displaying every ounce of hope that filled Avalon. She adored the stars as much as Orpheus treasured Eurydice. To her, each star carried a dream belonging to every single person in the world, placed up in the sky to showcase that everyone has aspirations.

Avalon was definitely a dreamer. She was a wild spirit that carried her mother’s heart in every step. The subjects that she looked forward to most at Hogwarts, were Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures. Avalon loved hearing all about Charlie’s dragon reserve, and she kept every single one of her mother’s astronomy stories in the back of her mind.

If someone were to ask her to choose between the two, she’d probably short-circuit.

— Harry’s voice cut into her peaceful silence, and she couldn’t help but jump. “Avalon? What are you doing out here?”

She shifted her head in his direction, only to see that he was still dressed in his day clothes.

“I’ve been sneaking out to look up at the stars since I was five.” She claimed, smiling slightly at the memories of her childhood.

He didn’t say anything as his figure approached. Instead, he simply sat beside her and peered up at the sky. “Mum used to tell me that every star above is a lost soul sent to look after their loved ones.” She paused for a moment, sparing the curious boy a small glance. “I like to think that as long as those stars gleam, there is always hope.”

“I think that’s a wonderful way of thinking about them. Me personally, I can’t see the stars back with the Dursleys.” Harry says, glancing her way briefly.

“Can I ask you something, Harry?” She asked, shifting to face him, her side slightly inching from the grass scratching into her skin.

“Go on,” he encouraged, shifting to face her as well.

Her eyes beamed with a light that represented something he hadn’t felt since his first time arriving at Hogwarts.

“Does Hogwarts change you? I promised dad that I wouldn’t change.” Her words seemed to hit deep, because for a moment, he just stared at her.

She felt that anxiety from before slowly seep up from its hiding place, but refused to let it control her before he could answer.

“Yes. Hogwarts does change you. Sometimes, for the better. Other times. . .” He explored truthfully, his eyes softening with every word.

Avalon swallowed back the anxiety and nodded lightly. “I can choose whether it changes me for better or worse, right?” Her question was so innocent, and for the first time in years, it felt like someone understood her.

He smiled softly, turning back onto his spine. “Of course! Hogwarts is a place for opportunity. Only you can choose what to do with the changes being presented to you.”

His words calmed her heart, so she rolled onto her back and looked up at the stars, weight instantly lifted from her chest.

“Punch me if this is insensitive, but, do you remember anything about your parents?” She felt his body tense beside her, but the shooting star captured her attention.

“I see glimpses.” He mumbled, causing her head to roll in his direction, curiously sparking her.

“Sometimes in my dreams, I see her green eyes, her cooking apron, and even her red hair. She was beautiful. I didn’t need a photo album to know that.” He says, a warm smile stretching across his face.

Harry’s loving smile caused a chain reaction, setting off a smile of her own. “I’m sure she was,” she commented.

“And with my dad, I saw his glasses. There was always a part of me that felt like I resembled him. A photograph proved my theory to be correct.” Harry continued, shifting one of his arms under his head to get comfortable.

“Even the dishevelled black hair?” She asked, playfully, receiving a small laugh in return which told her all she needed to know.

“What subject are you looking forward to at Hogwarts?” He asked, after a moment of silence.

“Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures. Though, I reckon Potions wouldn’t be too bad either.” She responded, yawning quietly.

“I wouldn’t count on enjoyment being part of potions. The potions master has some vendetta against children. A total muppet, that one.” He snorted, causing her brows to furrow.

“Really? That’s a shame. He probably has deep-seated family issues.” She commented, sympathy for a man she hardly knows immediately filled her.

“He has deep-seated issues alright…” Harry muttered, exhaling deeply.

There were more moments of peaceful silence, until Harry caught sight of something on her temple. “Hey, how’d you get that?” He asked, aiming a figure at the scar she acquired years ago.

“Oh, I hit my head on a rock after getting swept by the river current. Charlie, — who im sure, Ron has told you about, — wanted to teach me how to swim.” She began, her nimble fingers picking at her sleeves. “He hadn’t anticipated the river to be as wild as it was, and his back was turned, only for a moment.”

“How old were you?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Six. Mum nearly croaked when Charlie brought me home, his shirt pressed against my head.” She says, a simper pulling the corners of her lips.

“I used to tell the other kids in school that I got my scar from an actual lightning bolt.” Harry ventured with a small chuckle.

An overly amused grin spread out over her face. “There’s no bloody way they believed that!” She exclaimed lightly, disbelief overwhelming her senses.

Harry laughed, nodding frantically. “No! They actually did! Even claimed that I’d have super powers because of it.”

The pair broke out in fits of laughter, unable to stop. It was as if all the worries had been suctioned from the atmosphere.

And if they had eyes in the back of their heads, they would have seen a dishevelled, Molly Weasley, standing in the centre of the kitchen. Her worry slipping away at the sight of the two.

The scene in front of her was truly a heartwarming moment and she planned on cherishing it for the rest of her life. With one last smile, the mother left the two children under the stars and returned to her sleeping quarters.

For the next few weeks, Harry and Avalon laid under the stars, talking about anything and everything under the sun. It became the new normal for them; a tradition, if you will.

One that Avalon hoped to continue until every star crumbled into stardust.

Because Avalon could count on Harry being there to collect each speck in order to fabricate stars of their own.

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@alwayssnivellus