#YOU HELD ME LIKE MY MOTHER MADE ME JUST FOR YOU

[1d1195]

Honey VI

Read Honey here | ~5.3k words

From me: I know not everyone likes smut so you can read this part directly after part 4 if you'd like. All you need to know is that they had sex in part 5.

Warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions of sex but not describing everything. I don't think you'll like the ending to this part hehehe

Summary: “Hey kitten,” he hummed, settling her on the mattress. She looked so perfect there. Beautiful.

“Hmm?” She tucked herself into his sheets. Her face smushed into his pillow. He smiled, rubbed his hand on her hip and slipped into bed beside her. Her eyes were closed.

“Happy belated birthday.”

She snorted and tucked her face into his chest. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

Harry tossed the blanket on the back of the couch across her body. She was stretched out the length of his, her ear right on his chest, her hands cupped on the top of each of his shoulders. Her hips wedged between his legs. He wondered if she felt that his dick was already hardening pressing against the fabric of her underwear.

Pulling the thin piece of her panties from her center was one of the hottest things he had ever done before lining himself up with her. He worried he would never want her to take her underwear off just so he could gaze at the way it looked. (Although he was certain he could be convinced otherwise). His hands went to her back, and he kissed the top of her head. “You okay, love?” He asked. She nodded silently. “Y’sure?” Another wordless shake of her head. Harry ran his hand up and down her spine lightly tracing her skin like there was a pattern for him to follow. “Y’can sleep, kitten,” he whispered.

She had sex before, but it was never like that. Her body was exhausted, her face felt flushed and yeah, she was really sleepy. “Mmm?” She sighed. “Okay,” she mumbled.

“Night, love,” he kissed along her hairline.

*

They both seemed to wake up at the same time and without a clock or their phones nearby, there was no way to tell how late it was. Cece hadn’t made a peep, so she was still in the early stages of her deepest sleep. So only a few hours had passed, since her bedtime. It was still pitch black, so the power hadn’t returned either.

Harry kissed her hairline again, unaware that she was awake. In response, she kissed his chest, nosing at his skin.

“You’re so pretty.”

“You can’t see me.”

“Don’t need to.”

She smiled.

“Tell me ‘bout you,” he murmured.

“Tell you what?”

“Well, I know your favorite food is French fries and that y’like dogs more than cats. I know y’love your family even if they’re lazy and don’t show how much they love you. I know where y’went t’school and your best friend’s name is Eliza even if y’hardly see her or talk t’her.”

“There’s not much else to know,” she shrugged one shoulder.

“Why did y’start nannying? With your degree?”

She bit her lip. “I babysat most of my life,” but her voice had an edge to it. There was more and she didn’t want to tell him. Harry could sense it.

“Y’have a psychology degree with a concentration in child development. And y’have a minor in business. Something tells me that y’didn’t intend t’be a nanny. Even if you’re good at it.”

There was a long pause. Harry thought she fell asleep again. Her voice was soft. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me?”

She nodded. “It’s that baggage I mentioned?”

“I told you I would carry it,” he reminded her.

She didn’t think he didn’t mean it, but she didn’t think he knew what he was saying right before he slid his finger inside her. Her brain was already mush at that point and Harry could have told her anything as long as he made her come the way he did. Taking a deep breath, she was grateful for the dark. “I’ve wanted to be a mom my whole life,” she explained. That didn’t surprise him in the least. The way she held Cece and how kind, adoring, and doting it would be obvious to someone who was blind that she was going to be the most tremendous mother.

“I took care of dolls my entire childhood. Then there was my baby brother. I babysat from the time I was thirteen and all throughout college,” another deep breath. “I met my one and only ex-boyfriend on my first day of college classes. I was eighteen in an intro to business class. I figured if I wanted to open a daycare of my own, it would be good knowledge, right?” Harry’s finger danced along the side of her neck stroking a line up and down not saying anything, just listening. “He was young and didn’t want kids and I didn’t blame him. What eighteen-year-old does? I know I was a rarity—I had a baby brother and was around babies my whole life. I figured he would have grown out of it.”

“He didn’t grow out of it?” Harry asked.

“No... but he told me that he was definitely changing his mind. Every time I mentioned our future or our future children, he just...” she sighed. “He would say things like ‘of course, angel,’” her tone dropped an octave to imitate him. “But he talked about business and cruises. He talked about these extravagant parties and gatherings. Living overseas and expanding his business,” she shrugged. “It sounded nice, but I wanted kids.”

“You were still young,” Harry murmured. He wasn’t agreeing, but he was curious how her college-sweetheart just stopped being that. Surely that was something that would change with time.

“That’s why I stayed with him,” her voice was indifferent. “It wasn’t a bad thing at the time. I knew we both still had plenty of time,” her throat caught on the word time, and she cleared it. “He actually encouraged me to start nannying.”

Harry didn’t like her ex because she deserved everything she wanted. If she wanted to sell Harry’s company, he would do it for her. All he wanted was to see her smile. But if he was the reason that Harry found her... well... maybe he couldn’t hate him too much.

“I’ve always been pretty nurturing, protective, et cetera...” she shrugged. “My friends called me mom in college. I walked around with a mini pharmacy in my purse, and I never got drunk in college because I was busy taking care of my friends. So, my boyfriend figured I would do well, and he introduced me to a friend of a friend who wanted someone to watch their newborn.” She rolled her lips into her mouth before continuing. “I was twenty-two and I have loved babies my whole life. I stopped nannying him when he was three years old. That sweet little boy would be five now and I worry about him every day. Leaving him was the hardest thing I ever did.”

Harry frowned and kissed the top of her head, squeezing her gently. “Why?”

“His parents weren’t around. You said you felt like you weren’t there for Cece. Harry, you have no idea what some parents are like. I was going to doctor’s visits and buying Christmas presents for him on behalf of his parents. I took him to visit family that treated me like his big sister or an aunt—like I was their family and not his parents. It was awful. When I left, I felt like I gave my own child to a pair of strangers. It hurt so much. I cried for a week and seriously considered never babysitting ever again,” she sniffed and shook her head. “I stopped following them on social media. I would have kept asking because I was so scared. I had to stop, or I would... never let go and he wasn’t mine. He wasn’t,” she shook her head. “They made sure to tell me so. Every time I encouraged a change in eating habits or suggested they monitor his sleeping... they berated me for overstepping.”

“Probably because they were embarrassed, love,” he frowned and cupped the back of her head. Harry was seriously addicted to kissing her. It didn’t have to be her lips, though he loved that too. Kissing her hairline and touching her soft, delicate face was becoming his favorite thing.

“Yeah, but...” she shrugged. “It means a lot to me that you value my opinion. I don’t think you’re a bad dad at all, but you don’t mind asking questions. It’s... it’s like, I would never open a business without asking for your help,” she explained. “Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” he nodded. “I would be lost without you,” his heart hurt on her behalf. “Why did y’leave?” He asked.

She swallowed. “They were pregnant,” Harry waited. “I was there six days a week from six in the morning until eight in the evening. I was exhausted and it wasn’t because I didn’t love what I was doing, I did. I loved it so much,” she whispered. “But they had made me the most important part of their family and they didn’t even know their little boy,” her voice cracked. “He told me he wished I was his mom,” her voice was hardly audible.

“Oh, kitten,” he pulled her in closer. “He loved you so much.”

“It wasn’t fair to me,” she sniffled. “I just left him.”

“Y’had to, love.”

“He told me he hated me.”

“He was three, sweetheart. Of course he did,” he hummed and kissed the top of her head. “Y’were his favorite person, his best friend.” She sobbed and Harry held her tighter, wishing he could take her pain away. “Y’did the right thing,” he assured her. “Even if it didn’t feel like it.”

She swallowed. “Everyone told me I was an idiot.”

Harry frowned. “Who said that?”

“My family, my boyfriend, my friends,” she listed. “It was such a good job. I could pay my rent and all my bills. I hung out with the cutest kid,” she swallowed.

“Did y’tell them all that other stuff?”

She nodded. “Yeah. They didn’t get it. My boyfriend said I was getting to have a baby—two even, without having to ruin my body or any—”

“God, please tell me y’broke up with him.”

She huffed a breath of sniveling laughter. “Not yet.”

Harry sighed. “So y’found another family?”

She nodded. “I had babysat for Mitch and Sarah before. I was so heartbroken, but I’m a sucker for a cute kid and a mom and dad that are in desperate need of a date night,” she smiled. “Have you seen their kid?”

He chuckled. “He’s sweet, huh?”

“I watched him weekly. Just a date night. It was only a few hours, but they were in awe because I would get bored and clean or whatever they needed. I just did it. I didn’t think about it because I was just...used to it. So, they said they had a couple that needed a nanny,” she swallowed. “I was genuinely scared. I was afraid I would be taken advantage of and I was worried... worried I was going to fall in love with them again,” she whispered. “I did, but it was better this time. Hannah and Pete were parents who wanted to be parents. They loved me, I’m sure you saw, but I was just there to keep their babies safe.”

Harry remembered the glowing recommendations. “Tara and Xavier right?” He asked. She nodded.

“It was a blessing Tara was three years old when I met her and not Xavier. I might not have done it.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

She swallowed. “I was home more, and I noticed that...he wasn’t.”

“What was his name? Y’never said.”

“Cody,” she mumbled.

There was more quiet that ensued while she gathered her thoughts. “I was twenty-four and we had been together for almost seven years...” she took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to be married necessarily nor have kids right that second... but...”

“But he didn’t really change?” He finished.

“No, he did,” her voice was hollow. “Just... not for me.”

Oh no. “Kitten,” he hummed. “What—”

“She was pregnant,” she said softly. “Three months along by the time I found out.”

Harry meant what he said about Cece and a sibling. She was still his baby, and he wanted to make sure she got the attention she deserved because he loved her more than anything in the world. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to give her a sibling. One with Miss Honey? Harry could only be so lucky. “I hate Cody,” he grumbled.

“I’m not really a fan myself,” she whispered. Harry kissed her forehead and wished he could take her heart out and massage it like it was a sore muscle and fix it for her. “Hannah insisted I move in,” she swallowed. “I felt so stupid.”

“That was not your fault, love. Y’shouldn’t feel stupid. He’s an idiot.”

“I love my family,” she whispered. “I love them more than anything on this earth,” she swallowed. “But sometimes, I don’t think anyone loves me the way I love them,” she mumbled. “I feel really selfish saying that and I just thought that if I had a family of my own, the one I imagined with Cody and all the babies I wanted to have, then maybe I would feel loved. Like I was someone’s first choice because...” she trailed off and Harry felt a tear fall on his chest right from her cheek. She didn’t speak and Harry waited and waited.

“Christ, kitten,” he muttered. “If y’want a family. Y’deserve one.”

She didn’t say anything. Maybe she didn’t want to cry more; honestly, Harry didn’t want her to cry either. He wasn’t sure he could console her without promising to marry her right then and there. How someone dated her for seven years and never proposed was beyond him. It hadn’t even been seven hours since he’d been inside her and he was considering it.

“I’d have to quit nannying,” she added her voice was quiet. “I’m also only freshly twenty-seven. There’s still ample time. But... I have a lot of trust issues, obviously.”

“Kitten,” he tutted. “Don’t you think—”

“I don’t want to scare you,” she started which instantly made his heart beat a little faster. His body felt a little hotter. His throat a little tighter around the words he was going to say. “But I’m... my biological clock is a slave to time and if Cece turns five and starts kindergarten, then I’m probably going to have to—”

“Love, stop,” he interrupted. He wanted to say that he would give her everything. But he had her body wrapped around his less than three hours ago. Coming around his fingers, his tongue, his dick.

“Harry, I...” she swallowed. “I love Cece. An embarrassing amount,” she had a smile in her voice. “It’s impossible to find someone understanding of the nanny thing. Now I’ll always worry that the person I’m with is off making his own family with someone else,” she admitted.

“So you’re jus’ going t’accept that and... not have a family of your own?”

“No, I’ve done some research on sperm donation. It’s my best option. And that’s fine. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I’m not sure I’d be a good wife.”

There was truly no way Harry could fathom that. There was no way she wasn’t the best at anything she did. Fuck, she was a better secretary than anyone he could possibly hire. “How are you holding up with all that baggage?”

“Light as a feather,” he mumbled grumpily. He kissed her temple. He was already planning, plotting. Hoping.

“It... it was nice talking about it,” she whispered. “What’s in your dick that made me blab all that?”

He chuckled. “Truth serum.”

“That’s disgusting,” she gagged. “Don’t tell other girls that, they won’t like it. You’re lucky I’m so cool.”

Harry wanted to ask her if she really thought there were other girls. There weren’t. But if there had been, they paled in comparison to her. There was no one else. There could be no one else anymore. He had been waiting for someone like her, unable to believe he could have someone like her any longer. He had a baby to care for and a company to run. Women didn’t love him for him anymore.

Harry didn’t love anyone besides his baby, his company, and his family.

But he hadn’t accounted for Miss Honey and her sweetness, her kindness.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry realized how tired he was again. Poor thing had to be emotionally exhausted as well. He gently moved her to the inside of the couch “Sit up for me, kitten,” he asked quietly. She rubbed her eye that extra cute way that she did like when he went to her bedroom door in the middle of the night for help with Cece.

He slipped his boxers back on and turned off the little battery-operated candles. There were scrabble pieces all over the floor, but he would deal with them in the morning. She was half asleep, eyes fluttering and trying to stay open. He grabbed their clothes from the floor and threw them into her lap with the blanket that was still wrapped around her.

Harry scooped her into his embrace, cradling her like he was carrying a bride. It made his heart skip a beat. Without discussing it, he carried her to his bedroom. He didn’t want to be apart from her. It felt like he was carrying half his heart in his arms. Her fall blanket had been long since swapped out with a Christmas one and it was draped haphazardly across her keeping her warm as the only thing she wore was the scrap of fabric she was passing off as underwear and that pretty pink bra. “Hey kitten,” he hummed, settling her on the mattress. She looked so perfect there. Beautiful.

“Hmm?” She tucked herself into his sheets almost instantly. Her face smushed into his pillow. He smiled, rubbed his hand on her hip and slipped into bed beside her. Her eyes were closed.

“Happy belated birthday.”

She snorted and tucked her face into his chest. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered falling asleep nearly the moment she finished speaking.

*

Sleeping with her boss might be the dumbest thing she had ever done.

About ten of her romance novels consisted of this very plot line and she was victim of it per her own doing. Harry’s heavy arm was draped around her waist leaving her trapped beneath it and his soft bedding.

Fortunately, before she had time to spiral, Cece made her presence known. It gave her a reprieve from thinking about how stupid she was. It was something tangible to focus on that wasn’t the ache between her legs from having Harry—

She shook her head. Without another sound in the house, not even the quiet hum of the heating system, it heightened the sound of Cece’s small cry.

She pulled herself out from under Harry, frowning at how cold it was outside his blanket-like body. The first article of clothing she plucked from the floor—which happened to be one of Harry’s T-shirts—and slipped it over her body. Quietly, she went to Cece’s room. “Hello sweet girl,” her voice was soft, and Cece stopped crying instantly. “What are you doing?” She cooed. Cece continued to fuss without crying, so she scooped her up and kissed the side of her head. “Is it the rain and thunder?” She asked. “It’s okay. It’s just a little weather,” she assured her. “Are you cold?” she whispered. “I know,” she sighed. “Let’s go see if Daddy can keep us warm,” she murmured, kissing her temple.

Before she took one step to turn around, a hand circled the front of her stomach, pressing low, making her eyes flutter because Harry had touched and pressed so many parts of her body and he seemed to pull noises and warmth from her without even trying.

Harry’s lips found the curve of her shoulder where it met her neck, and peppered kisses along the made-up path he created from her shoulder to her ear. “You’re so good with her,” he murmured. “It’s so hot,” he whispered. She shivered even though she was about ten thousand degrees warmer than she was a moment before. “She’s cold?” he mumbled into her neck.

She nodded, unable to speak with his mouth on her pulse. He steered her out of the room by her hips, his fingers pressing against spots that he had pressed only hours before. Back toward the living room where he had made her come more times in one sitting than she had in weeks. Her cheeks felt warm as she followed his silent direction—like she was returning to the scene of a crime.

A really hot, sexy crime.

Harry left for his room again, but it was only moments before he was back at her side. He pulled her toward the couch making her stomach flip with the knowledge of what they did. He stretched his legs across the chaise part of the sofa and pulled her down, so her bum wedged between his leg and the sofa arm. Her legs stretched perpendicularly to his, across the couch.

Harry pulled the comforter he had dragged from his room across the three of them and snagged Cece’s crescent pillow from the floor, half under the couch from where it had landed while he was holding her legs open earlier. Harry kept that thought to a minimum as it was late, and she was sleepily holding his daughter. Gently, he tucked the pillow under her arms so most of Cece’s weight would be supported. “S’this dangerous?” He asked curiously.

“A few months ago, yeah... But I’m a pretty light sleeper. She’ll move before it’s an issue.”

Harry kissed the top of her head which had shifted down to the front of his shoulder. “You’re warm?”

“Very,” she promised.

“She’s warm?” He asked.

She wrapped her arms tighter around her and kissed her forehead, making Harry’s heart ache. “Mmm... are you warm?”

“Very,” he smiled. Even if he wasn’t, it was sweet she cared to ask. She was the one holding the baby. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you,” he murmured.

She tilted her head up and her beautiful wide eyes gazed at him and her lips curved upward so cutely he felt downright hot. No need for a blanket when he could see her smile like that. Harry cupped the side of her head. His thumb brushed along her cheek.

The quiet beating of his heart was under her ear and made her fall asleep.

*

Cece woke them up along with every light on in the house signaling the power was back. Harry’s shoulder felt deadened from her head against it for so many hours. He blinked against the light and glanced at the Scrabble tiles strung haphazardly on the floor. “Good morning, Miss Cecelia,” she cooed and kissed her forehead. “We’re nice and toasty, hmm?”

Harry smiled. His heart so completely full. As full as his arms felt.

“Let’s go change your bum, yeah?” She twisted slightly. “Hold her so I don’t injure you?” She smiled awkwardly. Harry really did a number on her hair while he made out with her last night, but she was still so beautiful it hurt. Her face still had a post-orgasmic glow about it and honestly it was kind of her to worry about Harry’s dick so close to her butt and not wanting to injure him, but she could probably feel it—a reminder that he was so turned on by her.

Harry kissed Cece’s cheek repeatedly. “Good morning, my sweet girl,” he cooed and nosed at her soft skin. She giggled happily and left an open-mouthed kiss on his face making him fall harder for the little baby.

Miss Honey hadn’t moved an inch while she watched the interaction, only inches from her face and she smiled sadly as she finally moved off his lap. Harry was so cold without her body around his it took every ounce of his effort to refrain from pulling her right back down.

She was still in his T-shirt and because her underwear was thin and hiding between her plump butt cheeks, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Harry also had to refrain from groaning at the sight. He was glad the comforter was thrown over his lap because it hid the massive amount of indecency he was sporting at the sight of her. She plucked Cece from him and headed down the hall.

Harry picked up the Scrabble tiles trying to forget how good she tasted on the back of his couch so the blood in his body would drain to anywhere else but it’s current space. Eventually, she returned to the kitchen. Unfortunately, she was wearing pants and Harry thought it was unfair she didn’t even ask if he could get another look beforehand.

Cece was wrapped, as always, around her as she started her morning routine. Food, bottle, tea, coffee. Business as always. “Kitten, y’don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” she wasn’t facing him. But he could practically feel the heat of her cheeks, flushed with embarrassment. Her voice was shaky. Higher than normal.

“Y’okay?” He asked, his eyebrows pinching together as he watched her work without turning around. “Y’feel okay? Not sore or—”

“Harry,” she swallowed pausing her movements and Cece was suckling on her pacifier watching the pretty woman curiously.

“What, love?” He frowned. “Y’sure you’re alright? Y’sound—”

She put a hand on her face. “Harry, I feel...” she whispered and turned around.

Harry thought she was stunning when she perched over him and slid up and down his cock. But there was nothing like the sight of her, baby on her hip, freshly fucked and flushed, and sleepy looking as she made breakfast in his kitchen. “Y’feel what?” He asked, clearing his throat before he told her he loved her. How quickly he turned into a teenage boy ready to profess his love all because she felt so good around his cock.

“Good,” she smiled sadly. “Really, really good,” she promised. Harry smiled happily. Glad she was feeling okay. “But—”

Fuck. NO.

“I think we shouldn’t have—”

“Kitten, no,” he said quickly crossing the kitchen and putting one hand on her free hip. Cece was gazing at him while her little pacifier bounced up and down in her mouth. “Love, don’t say it—”

“Harry, you employ me.”

His natural instinct was to fire her right on the spot. Then promptly propose to her.

He shoved that instinct into the bottom of his stomach, but his chest ached knowing she was going to be twenty times stronger than him because she had to be. In her head, she was all alone. Even if that wasn’t true at all. He closed his eyes. “Sweetheart,” he said softly. His voice felt broken, and his heartbeat was thudding too hard.

“Harry, I... I really don’t regret that at all. But it was,” she took a deep breath. “It wasn’t the right move,” she looked at his chest. Her face warm with a fresh blush as she probably remembered how he made her come three times in a row. “It was perfect and I like being close with you. But there has to be a line,” she said. “I shouldn’t have crossed it, and I’m sorry. I don’t regret it. Given half the chance, I’d probably do it again,” she admitted.

“We could do it again if—”

“Harry,” she laughed softly, awkwardness coating the sound.

“Angel,” he started but she winced and turned her head away like he had slapped her.

“Please don’t call me that,” she whispered. “That’s the only thing Cody ever called me and—”

“Jesus, kitten, m’sorry. I was jus’—”

“It’s okay,” she looked up briefly, but her face turned another shade darker when their eyes connected. She looked so kissable. He wanted to. Wanted to kiss her and hold her and promise she could have whatever she wanted. Harry didn’t know if she was right. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to do things.

She was employed by him. A lot closer than any other of his employees. Granted he didn’t want to sleep with Niall or give him babies the way he wanted to do for her. “I love Cece,” she reminded him. “I don’t want to jeopardize this because of...” she swallowed. “Because of what we did. We can just forget about it. It was really, really wonderful. Please don’t question that,” her voice was soft. “You’re going to take your leave and I’m going to see my family for a week or two,” she explained. “It’ll be good to have that space and maybe... maybe reset what we’re feeling.”

“Reset,” he repeated.

She nodded. "Isn't there a part of you that wonders if what we did is only because I'm around so much?"

Harry wanted to scream. How could she say that? How could she possibly believe he only made her come three times because she was there? A small voice shouted from the back of his mind: Tell her why! Harry felt his stomach flip and his heart nearly stopped beating.

She didn’t know he loved her. She couldn’t know that his adoration for her had nothing to do with her proximity.

Her innate ability to know what he needed. Organizing papers without asking, folding his laundry, caring for his precious baby.

Just... being there. But not because of space, because it wasn't just because she was present, it was her presence.

No he shook his head. She was scared. She was pushing him away. Scared of all the things she told him the night before. It was her “baggage." The baggage she claimed Harry couldn’t carry because it was so heavy.

But what had he said that made her believe he couldn’t handle it?

Cece doesn’t need a sibling right now.

But she would never want to pressure him to do that—right? Not with what he had been through himself. But then she went and told him all about the way her ex-boyfriend treated her and how it was the only thing she wanted.

I’m just going to get a sperm donor. She said it so casually. There was an expiration date. If Cece turned five before something changed, then she was going to leave.

Harry wanted to give her a million babies. However many she wanted to have, he would give her. He would do it with her. He would quit his job and let her do whatever she wanted. Everything she wanted. A family that adored her and put her first because she deserved it. A family that would travel across the world for her just because they missed her, and she was their favorite thing in the world. A house filled with babies and her pretty maternal self, taking care of them all. Feeding them medicine and making them giggle when they discovered their toes.

He wanted their future children to love her more than him because she deserved that more than anything.

Hell, Cece probably already loved her more than him already.

“Are you going to fire me?” She whispered, pulling him from his thoughts. His hand was holding his shirt wrapped around her body at her hip. The fabric bunched a little tighter than it was before. He released it.

“No, of course not,” he rolled his eyes.

But he was going to make her fall in love with him.

The sooner the better.

--

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[malavera]

Logan: "I'm right here, Bub." (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: You had a fight with your father, he pissed you off so much you ran off to Logan's for comfort. But is that all you want?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Legal age gap, Unprotected sex, logan has a big cock, reader wanted creampie, reader is called peach, daddykink, foul language, spanking, choking, basically SMUT.

an: concept is inspired after reading @plutodexay-nsfw's thoughts/ideas i hope i got the permission to write this one! This one's dedicated to you!

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“Logan! … Logan! Where are you?!”

You storm into his house like a burglar ready to hit the jackpot, the wind rushing in with each determined step. You're on a mission to find the six-foot, muscular beast of a man—and complain about what a complete jerk your father is. How dare he come back from his long-awaited business trip with a woman on his arm, declaring she’s the one he’s going to marry—after all this time since your mother’s death. You put up a hell of a fight back there, screaming and crying, saying that you will not accept that woman as your step-mother as there will be no one that can replace or resume your mother's love.

Logan knew about this. Your father had a long conversation with him, asking whether it would be a good idea to introduce this woman to you. Logan didn’t want to come off as a know-it-all, even though he is, but he steered clear of family matters. Still, if your father had asked for his honest opinion, he’d have told him it wasn’t the best idea—you’re not emotionally ready for something like this.

And then you were off, rushing to Logan’s, even though your father yelled your name countless times. His new girlfriend held him back, urging him to let you be for a moment, to give you some space.

“I’m right here, bub.” Your head snapped toward the sound of his voice from the kitchen, where he stood, a mix of pity and disappointment etched on his face. His eyes reflected sadness, but there was also a glimmer of understanding; he knew how you felt, even if he believed you should show more respect to your father.

You exhaled sharply before rushing to him, enveloping him in a tight hug. His body radiated warmth, and with each passing moment, your anger melted into a puddle. Sobbing into his neck, Logan wrapped his arms around you tighter, his hand gently caressing your long, soft hair as he shushed you. “There, there, calm down, Peaches,” he cooed. He lifted you off your tiptoes, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Holding you close, he made his way to the living room, settling down on the couch with you in his embrace.

“I hate him. I hate him so much,” you murmured into his neck, grumbling a bit as your anger began to bubble up inside you again.

“I know, Peach, I know. It’s okay—just calm yourself, okay?” Logan gently pulled you away to face him, wanting to see those beautiful eyes, even if they were now clouded with tears. Your eyes were bloodshot and red, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sniffled, struggling to hold back the snot threatening to escape.

You sighed, looking down, pouting. "I need you, please..." You whispered, your hands fisting his buttoned up shirt.

"What do ya need, Peaches?" His eyes searching for yours, looking for your honest answer.

"I need to fuck you, please. Please give me what I want." You pleaded, finally looking at him as your hips started to move on his lap a little.

Logan’s eyebrows knitted together, torn between giving you what you wanted and being the better man who took care of you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sickness in his gut; even as you cried, he found you utterly adorable and breathtaking. He wanted those tears to be from pleasure, that only from him you would receive. He wanted those tears to be from the pain of taking his big cock, his hips piston while fucking you hard. Too bad, the day he saw those tears streaming down those kissable cheeks, was from every little girl's first love, their father.

“Please,” you pleaded once more, pressing your face closer to his, connecting your swollen lips to his soft ones. You began to peck and kiss him all over. The kiss was charged with your wants and needs, the urgency evident in its hurried pace. Short breaths mingled as your tongues swirled together.

Logan couldn't find the words; all he could do was surrender to your control. In that moment, he convinced himself it was okay—as long as it was what you wanted and it made you happy, he would give in. Because why? Because he was in love with you. He knew it was complicated, that he should be cautious given the age difference, but from the moment he laid eyes on you, he vowed that you were meant for him and him alone.

The fabric of his jeans felt rough against your exposed skin once you started grinding on him. The tent in his pants started growing each time you ground yourself more to him. Soft moans and pants coming out of your lips as you ground yourself more on his bulge. You placed both of your hands on his shoulders, supporting yourself to grind more on his lap. Logan leaned back and scootch his bum a little lower so you'd feel more comfortable moving on top of him. His arms that were wrapped around you now lay defenseless on his sides, as he now lets you do whatever you want on him.

"This what you want, Peaches? To use me?" Logan grunted, his eyes watching yours as you screwed them shut and whimpered.

"Please—Need... More," you whimpered. You moved a little to sit on his thighs as your hands found their way to the band of his jeans.

"Peach," Logan spoke, he wanted to stop you right there but he himself is not even sure if he should stop this moment right here and right now. You fumbled with his jeans attempting to undo it and once it's done, you pulled his jeans along with his boxers a little, enough to free'd what you're looking for.

Logan grunted once his cock released to open air, slapping against his clothed abdomen. You gasp, even though you've seen it, it never fail to always leave you breathless. His cock stand tall and proud, and you couldn't help but immediately scootch off his lap, until your knees hit the soft carpet, to grab him with both hands and put the tip inside your warm mouth.

Logan nervously moaned from the feeling of your warm tongue twirling around his tip that keeps throbbing from the way you suck on his cock. You purposely let some of your saliva spilling out of your mouth down to his balls, as you let one hand reached down to knead his balls in your hand.

"Argh, god." Logan grunted, screwing his eyes shut, tossing his head back. His hand found your head, as he fisted some of your hair. "Peach," he choked out a moan.

You whimpered before you started to bob your head up and down his cock, purposely making a mess with your saliva. The slurping and squelching sound from sucking his cock is the only thing that fills the quiet room, along with Logan's constant grunts and heavy breathing.

Giving him a couple of bobs before you release his cock from your hold, Logan grunted in surprise. You pushed yourself back up on your feet as you attempted to pull your panties off. Logan could literally smell your arousal leaking down your needy cunt. You pushed him to lean against the cushion as you mount on his lap before grabbing on his cock giving him a couple of pumps while you aim his cock at your entrance.

"Peach, peach—Wait... Baby, I gotta get us a condom." Logan hastily stop you right there but you whined and hold him by his chest.

"I need to feel all of you, Daddy, Please." Before Logan could say anything, he moaned once he felt you sinking down on his cock slowly while you looked down mouth agape slightly trying to hold down the pain from his monster cock tearing your walls.

Logan wished he'd claim your innocence in some other way, other than this. He wanted it to be special, to be memorable for you, but if this is what you want, and he'd hoped this would be memorable enough for you, then so be it.

He grunted through his gritted teeth, trying to hold himself from combusting in you right there and now. The way your tight walls choking his thick cock, it feels like as if he was getting choked by his neck. Your tight cunt felt so good around him, he wanted to take the matters into his own hands and fuck you hard right there.

"Baby, can you move, please?" Logan, is the one who pleaded.

You whimpered before nodding your head as you started to move yourself up and down his shaft. Once you get the hang of it, you place both of your hands back on his shoulders. Eyes bore into his as his into yours while your lips spill out the prettiest moan he's ever heard from you.

"God! Logan, you're so big." Logan lazily smirked.

"I know baby, I know you can take it. Come on, work that pussy on daddy's cock. Use, me baby." Logan whispered, his hand found its way to your nape, pushing your head closer to him to connect your forehead against his.

You started to screw your eyes shut, whimpering once you feel him move his hips along your rhythm. "So good, daddy." You sobbed.

"Yeah? Need to fuck that anger away on my cock, don't you, Peaches?" He reminded you why you needed his cock. To fuck your pain and anger away. The little girl that was once fragile on top of him all of a sudden snapped into someone even you don't recognize. Someone sinister that has been long living inside you.

You snapped your eyes open, eyebrows knitted together before pushing your head off disconnecting from his forehead. Logan keeps his face neutral, looking at you and groaned when he felt your hand wrapped around his throat. You started to move your hips rapidly, like riding a horse to make it gallop fast.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Use my cock, come on, make yourself feel good. I know you're mad, baby. I know you do, come on, fuck my cock. Faster—Harder!" Logan gave your ass a couple of smack earning a loud moan from you, resulting in getting a rapid move from your hips.

"Yeah... There's a good girl," Logan whispered. "Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that," Logan coo'ed when he felt your hand attempted to squeeze his neck. He almost laughed at you on how pathetic you are, trying to control him.

So he reminded you, even though you're in control, who's the captain of this ship.

Logan's hand found your neck, as you choked out a moan. His squeeze was far from choking you but it felt like he was. He started to thrust his hips upwards, fucking your throbbing pussy; the squelching sound could be heard. His semi-saggy-and-heavy balls slapping against the bottom of your ass, sounding like a clap.

"Awh—Daddy!" You pathetically moaned for him. "Daddy—Yes! Right there, like that—Please! I wanna cum." You pleaded.

"Come on, Baby, cum f'r me."

"Ah—!" You shrieked with your eyes screwed shut as your whole body stuttered reaching your orgasm, coming down on his cock.

"There... We go." Logan helped you ride off your orgasm by still softly fucking your cunt. "Now come on, make daddy cum. Daddy wants to cum too." Logan whispered before he begin to fuck you back, fast.

"Ngh—Daddy! ... Does my cunt feel good around your cock?" You softly spoke, looking down at him flexing your doe eyes and your famous pout while Logan's bore into you, his mouth fell agape slightly as his main focus was to reach his high.

He panted, he groaned, while you're there on top of him doing nothing but letting him use your cunt. "Grrh—Fuck! 'M gonna cum." Logan grunted and now you started to fuck him back forcing his hips to stay down.

You rode him fast, faster than before to help him reach his high. "PEACH—GET OFF!" He boomed but you refused to listen to him, instead you crazily smiled at him and spill out tiny moans, looking at him.

"FUCK—I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM! GET OFF OF ME!" Logan roared.

"Cum in me, Daddy—Yeah!"

Logan couldn't hold himself any longer, his moral is not even working at the moment. All he thinks is only shooting his hot load out and he does, as he choked out a moan gripping your hips to stay in place while he shoot out his strings of cum inside you. His thighs stuttered a little while he still emptying his load; it was so much.

You giggled watching him trying to gain his breath while he looks at you dead in the eye.

"I better not see that attitude for the rest of the night." Logan warned while you just sit there, on top of him, looking at him without a care of his words.

"Thank you, Daddy."

[idkyetxoxo]

Harwin Strong - In the Name of Love

Summary - Married to Laenor Velaryon, she finds herself in a union far from ordinary. As Laenor's vulnerability meets the lure of a forbidden attraction, she must decide between loyalty, desire, and the dangerous pursuit of a love that breaks all boundaries.

Pairing - Harwin Strong x Baratheon reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!!)

Word count - 2571

Masterlist for Harwin • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"We can keep trying," he insisted, his voice trembling with a desperate kind of hope. 

I shook my head slowly, reaching out to wipe away the lone tear that traced a path down his cheek. His vulnerability in that moment was like a knife to my heart.

"I hate that the gods have made me this way," he murmured, his voice thick with frustration and sorrow. He leaned into my embrace, and I instinctively began to rub his back in slow, soothing circles, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin.

"I do not," I whispered, my words barely audible, as I cupped his face gently in my hands. His eyes, filled with a mix of shame and longing, met mine.

"You do not deserve this," he said, his voice cracking as he continued. "You deserve someone who can give you the love you so selflessly offer. Someone whole. Someone... different from me."

"Laenor, my love, it is okay," I said softly, though my heart was shattering under the weight of his words. 

I could feel it breaking apart like brittle glass, each piece falling away. But I kept my voice steady, trying to convey a comfort I wasn't sure I believed in.

Laenor Velaryon and I were bound together not by choice or fate, but by the careful calculations of our parents. His mother, Princess Rhaenys, with her Baratheon blood, saw the value in uniting our houses. 

A Baratheon and a Velaryon, the match seemed ideal on the surface, a union of strength, power, and legacy. But beneath the veneer of perfection lay a truth that only we knew.

My husband preferred the company of men, a truth he had confessed to me in a moment of honesty before our union had been sealed. And yet, even knowing this, I had felt powerless to stop the arrangement. 

I chose to accept it, understanding that perhaps he would be one of the few men to treat me with kindness, despite everything. And he did. In his own way, he did.

But now, as I held him in my arms, his heart laid bare before me, I realized the cruelty of our situation. We were both caught in a web of expectations and obligations, yearning for something we could not have, and bound by something neither of us had chosen.

"Love does not always come in the shape we expect," I whispered, stroking his cheek. "But that does not mean it is any less real."

He closed his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as he leaned into my touch. In that moment, I held him not as a wife clinging to a fractured marriage, but as a companion who understood the burden of living a life that was never truly ours to decide.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"It does not feel right," I murmured, bringing the teacup to my lips, its warmth seeping into my hands as I took a tentative sip, the hot liquid burning a path down my throat, mirroring the unease burning within me.

Across from me, Rhaenyra sat with a thoughtful expression, her eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"Laenor has granted you permission to do so, and it is out of love," she argued gently, her tone both insistent and coaxing. I sighed, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily on my chest.

"He knows it is unfair," she continued, her gaze steady on mine. "But he wants this for you. He wants you to feel pleasure, to have that connection we all crave. It's a kindness, in his own way," she finished, her voice softening.

It was true, no one could deny the whispers that trailed behind me wherever I went, like shadows clinging to my heels. The talk of my union with Laenor had spread, the most pressing concern being the glaring absence of an heir. 

An heir that everyone knew was not just expected, but necessary, as if my womb were a vault holding the key to the future.

Laenor, ever thoughtful in his own way, had urged me even before our wedding to consider taking a lover, fully aware of the complexities that entangled our marriage. 

He had spoken of it with an almost painful tenderness, acknowledging that he could not give me what I might need. And until now, I had dismissed the idea, reluctant to consider it. But here I was, sitting with Rhaenyra, the thought taking root.

To reach out for another's touch... would it be freedom or betrayal.

"Who would I even choose?" I asked, setting my teacup down with a soft clink. 

Rhaenyra's face lit up at my words, a slow smile curving her lips as she realized I was finally contemplating this possibility.

"It would have to be discreet," I murmured, more to myself than to her. "Someone I can trust, someone who understands the need for secrecy... but also someone I would want to be with." 

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me.

"Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra declared as if it were the most obvious choice in the world. My eyes snapped open, a mix of surprise and curiosity flickering through me.

"He is sworn to you, he also has Baratheon-like features. No one would question the legitimacy of any child born from such a union," she explained, her voice brimming with confidence. "And it is no secret that he is quite taken with you."

I bit my lip, turning her words over in my mind. She made it sound so simple, yet I knew there were layers upon layers of complexity to such a choice. 

"But what if he does not want to?" I asked, my voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. The thought of such rejection, of laying my intentions bare only to have them cast aside, was daunting.

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, a playful exasperation colouring her features. 

"Oh, just ask him and see what happens," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Men are not nearly as complicated as they pretend to be. Show him a hint of what you want, and he'll fall over himself trying to please you."

I nodded slowly, picking up my teacup again, the porcelain warm against my palms. As she continued talking, offering tips on how to approach the matter, on what to say and what not to, my thoughts drifted. 

Could this truly be a solution? 

Could I truly allow myself to want something more than what I had settled for? 

The questions buzzed around my mind like restless bees, but I knew one thing, change was inevitable. And perhaps, it was time to embrace it.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

My palms were damp with nerves as I walked briskly through the dimly lit corridors, the doors to my chambers looming closer with every step. Ser Harwin followed a few paces behind, his footfalls steady and familiar, as was his usual practice. 

Yet today, his presence seemed to weigh on me more than ever.

"Are you alright?" he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. 

I jumped, startled, and turned to see he had closed the distance between us. His face was etched with concern. I nodded quickly, unable to summon a coherent response, and turned back to my chambers, pushing the door open with a shaky hand.

Inside, I could still feel his presence just beyond the threshold, his silhouette visible through the narrow gap in the door as he stood guard. I began to pace, my mind racing with half-formed sentences and discarded ideas on how to approach the subject. 

Everything seemed tangled, every possibility too bold or too foolish.

"Ser Harwin," I finally called out, exasperated with my own spiralling thoughts. The door creaked open a crack, his eyes peering in with caution.

"Could you please come inside?" I asked, my voice softer now, tinged with an urgency I couldn't hide. He hesitated only a moment before stepping in, closing the door quietly behind him.

I fidgeted with the ring on my finger, a wedding gift from Laenor. It was a beautiful silver band adorned with two gems, one blue and one yellow, each representing our houses. The colours caught the light as I twisted it back and forth, a small distraction from the pounding of my heart. 

One of the gems had a hairline crack, something I hadn't noticed before. My thumb traced over it, feeling the imperfection, a small flaw that seemed to mirror the fissures in our marriage—fractures that had begun long before this moment.

Harwin's eyes flicked to my hands, noticing the nervous motion.

"How can I be of assistance?" he asked, his voice calm but curious. His gaze was steady, but I could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as they darted between my face and my restless hands.

"I wanted to ask you something..." I started, but the words caught in my throat. 

I could feel my composure slipping away under his steady watch, my hands moving from my stomach to my forehead as if I could somehow press the words out of my mind.

"Shall I call for a maester?" he asked, his concern deepening. I shook my head quickly, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

"No, no, it's not that," I stammered. There was a long pause, the silence between us thickening like fog. I could feel the weight of my own hesitation bearing down on me, pushing the words out before I could stop them. "Do you think I am... pretty?"

The question hung in the air like a held breath. For a moment, he simply stared at me, his eyes widening in surprise. I watched his face, searching for any sign of discomfort or amusement, but all I found was stunned silence.

"I..." he began, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words. His eyes softened as he looked at me, truly looked at me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. "My lady, you are more than pretty. You are... radiant." 

His words were careful, almost hesitant as if he feared saying too much.

My breath caught in my throat at the sincerity in his voice. I hadn't expected such an answer, and I found myself momentarily disarmed. 

"I mean," I continued, feeling the need to fill the silence that followed, "if you were... if you were given the choice... would you want to be with someone like me?"

His brows furrowed slightly, not in confusion, but in contemplation. 

"I would consider it an honour," he said quietly, his voice deep and unwavering. "But I would also consider what such a decision would mean—for you, for your reputation, for everything you hold dear."

I nodded, his response more thoughtful and kind than I had anticipated. 

"I don't want to cause trouble," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I want something... something more than this arrangement I find myself in."

The words were like a confession, spilling from a place deep within me that had long been shrouded in silence and doubt.

He took a step closer, his presence steadying me in a way I hadn't expected. 

"If it is more that you want," he said softly, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, "then you should not settle for anything less."

His words settled over me like a blanket of reassurance, stoking a fire that had been smouldering inside me for too long. 

"Good," I murmured, my voice trembling with a mix of nerves and desire. And before I could second-guess myself, I surged forward, capturing his lips with mine in a kiss that was both frantic and desperate, a release of everything I had been holding back.

Harwin responded almost instantly, his lips moving against mine with a hunger that matched my own. His hands slid up to cradle my face, his touch firm yet tender, as if I were something both precious and fragile. 

I could feel his breath hitch as our mouths moved together, the heat between us building like a storm. 

My fingers fumbled at his armour, my need to feel him—every inch of him—driving me to pull away the layers of clothing that separated us. His hands were quick to follow, helping me shed my garments until we were both bare, exposed before one another.

"Are you certain?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, his eyes searching mine for any hesitation. His breath was hot against my skin, sending a thrill through me.

I could only nod, the words tangled in my throat, my body pulsing with a need that I could no longer ignore. "I want this," I whispered, my voice raw with longing. "I need this."

With that, we moved toward the bed, our limbs entwined, and I fell back against the sheets, pulling him down with me. The anticipation coursed through my veins like liquid fire. His body was solid and warm above me, his weight a comforting pressure as he settled between my legs.

He wasted no time, his lips finding mine again as he positioned himself at my entrance. And then, in one smooth motion, he entered me. A gasp escaped my lips at the newness of the sensation—a stretch, a fullness that was foreign and overwhelming. 

He began to move inside me, slow at first, allowing me to adjust and then gradually building in pace. As he did, a wave of pleasure unlike anything I had ever known surged through me, and I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Seven hells," I moaned, my mouth finding the curve of his shoulder, my teeth sinking into his skin as I tried to muffle my cries. 

The rhythm of his thrusts quickened, and I could feel the tension coiling tighter within me, each stroke bringing me closer to a precipice I hadn't known existed.

"Gods, you feel perfect," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and ragged as he drove into me with a renewed intensity. 

His voice, thick with desire, sent shivers racing across my skin, adding fuel to the fire already burning inside me.

I could feel myself unravelling beneath him, my body responding to his with a fervour I had never experienced before. It was almost too much—this overwhelming pleasure, so sharp and deep it nearly brought tears to my eyes. 

I had never felt so alive, so utterly consumed.

"I'm close," he panted, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. I nodded frantically, my own voice reduced to breathy moans and gasps, unable to form coherent words.

"Let me feel you," I managed to whisper, my voice thick with need. 

It was all the encouragement he needed. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, and I felt his release—a warmth spreading within, mingling with my own pleasure as I shuddered beneath him.

He collapsed beside me, his chest heaving with exertion, his body slick with sweat. I turned to look at him, our eyes meeting in the dim light, a sense of satisfaction and peace settling over me like a soft, warm blanket. 

For the first time in a long time, I felt truly seen, truly desired, truly alive.

As we lay there, breathless and spent, I knew that something had shifted between us. The world outside these walls might remain unchanged, with its expectations and whispers, but here, in this moment, I had found a connection that went beyond duty or obligation. 

It was raw, unguarded, and real. And for now, that was enough.

A/n - This genuinely consumed me I wasn't even halfway done and realised I had like over 3k words so I had to reel it back but omg I love it!!

[shadowdaddies]

Holiday Traditions

Lucien x fem!Reader fluff

Summary: Reader finds Lucien preparing for some of his childhood Autumn Equinox traditions, and decides to surprise him.

Wind whipped softly at your cheeks, late September air bringing a much needed reprieve from the exhausting heat August had brought this year. You smiled at the sight of a leaf, twirling in the breeze as it floated down from its branch to join the others scattered about the forest floor in a kaleidoscope of greens, oranges, and yellows. 

The sound of rustling foliage pulled your attention from the path to the Exiles’ Manor. A familiar head of long flaming hair brought a smile to your lips, his presence drawing you like a moth to the flame. 

Hearing the sound of your approach, Lucien looked over his shoulder from where he knelt on the ground, his returning smile sending heat pooling in your belly. You glanced beyond him to the small structure in front of him. A small structure had been built, its fine craftsmanship an indication of who had crafted the object. Lucien’s golden complexion flushed slightly at your curious gaze, your eyes roving eagerly over the small pyre he’d built, decorated beautifully with an assortment of berries, nuts, and what seized your attention most - two cornhusk dolls laid together at the front.

Kneeling in front of the arrangement, you reached a hand out and twined Lucien’s fingers through your own. “What is this?” you whispered, voice soft with awe.

Lucien squirmed slightly, a rare moment of self consciousness showing behind his charming facade. “It’s a Mabon Altar,” he nodded, reaching out to brush away a leaf that had fallen over the display. “It’s an Autumn Court tradition.”

His gaze flicked to yours, studying your reaction. “Each year, we - they - celebrate the Equinox with rituals, to honor the Mother, and to ask her for prosperity, protection, and balance.” He laughed dryly at his own words, mouth twisting into a wry smile as you carefully picked up one of the corn husk dolls. 

“My mother holds the traditions very sacred. The dolls are supposed to represent those we love, to pray for their good fortune.” Gaze swinging to the other doll which still sat on the earth, amber eye swam with emotion. “I hardly believe that,” he swallowed thickly, “but my mother always made dolls for each of my brothers and me. And one like this.” 

He held the doll, pulling it closer so you could see the intricate details Lucien had worked to cut and carve. The doll was darker than the one in your hand, the corn husk itself nearly as dark as the soil, while parts of it were painted gold as though to resemble the doll’s clothing. You looked to the doll in your own hand, studying the lighter hue of its husk, shades of red so much like Lucien’s. “This one is your mother?” you questioned softly.

Lucien nodded, a mournful smile playing on his lips. “It meant so much to her to create these each year. It makes me feel closer to her - even if I can’t be there in Autumn with her.”

Pulling your hand from his, you intertwined your arms and leaned against his warm frame. “And who is that?” you prodded, gently taking the other doll from him.

“I don’t know. I think it was just an idea of my mother’s - a symbol of hope for protection, or her future.” 

Setting the corn husk back in its place, you leaned to press a kiss to Lucien’s cheek. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I hope I can be here to celebrate the Equinox with you, if that is okay.”

His answering smile stole the air from your lungs, unbridled joy casting a ray of sunshine through him as Lucien stole your lips for another, deep kiss. “I can think of nothing that I would love more,” he purred, your insides melting at the suggestive tone. 

~~~

You were lounging on the pink sofa in Lucien’s lap days later when Twilight began to darken the sky. Flashing a conspiratorial grin to Vassa and Jurian, you excused yourself to your room, smiling at Lucien’s groan when the other two quickly did the same. 

In your room, you hurriedly grabbed the burgundy dress from your wardrobe, applying rouge to your lips before giving yourself an assessing look in the mirror. 

Yesterday during your visit to the Day Court on emissary business, you had asked Helion about the library’s books on Autumn Court’s Equinox traditions. The High Lord had shocked you by knowing plenty about their traditions himself, recalling the feast they had each year with different foods to represent the different Houses.

The way in which Helion spoke about the rituals held such a reverence, you couldn’t help but grow more excited to surprise Lucien with a party. You had thanked Helion - who bid you farewell with a mournful smile that oddly reminded you of Lucien’s - eager to race home and begin planning.

Exhaling a nervous breath, you swiped the final touches of makeup across your eyes before turning back to the living room.

“My vixen, you couldn’t stay away for-“

Whatever witty remark Lucien had planned died in his throat, mouth agape as he took you in. You were indeed the vixen, your dark red lips matching the tight fabric that donned your figure like a siren’s call to the male in front of you. Moving as though in a trance, Lucien swiftly stood from the couch, his hands finding purchase on your waist, shamelessly trailing up your body to feel the curves you’d put on display.

“What is this?” Lucien asked, his voice practically a growl with the self restraint he barely clung to. 

“This,” you purred, stepping back to offer him the full view of your body once more, “is what I wear to a party.” 

“A party?” he echoed, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip in intrigue. You simply hummed in response, lacing his fingers in your own as you led him towards the front door with a playful wink over your shoulder.

Opening the door of the manor, you smiled at how incredibly Vassa had pulled together the evening. Fae lights glowed like fireflies throughout the trees, illuminating the table that was set with an ornate dinner and fae wine. A symphonia played the gentle tune of a familiar orchestra, setting the mood for Jurian and Vassa as they swayed on the makeshift dance floor. 

“What is this?” Lucien breathed, hand still tight around your own. 

Smiling brightly at the wonder in his expression, you led him to the table where the others were now taking their seats. “I learned a bit more about Equinox traditions, and I wanted to surprise you with some new memories of a special holiday for you.”

Jurian coughed from across the table, earning an elbow to the ribs from Vassa and an eye roll from you. “Vassa helped a lot... And Jurian a little bit, as well,” you teased in response to the latter’s outraged expression.

“Thank you all, very much,” Lucien murmured, voice thick with emotion. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek before filling his plate with traditional Autumn celebration foods, laughing and drinking with your friends late into the night until the moon was high in the sky. 

“It’s time,” you whispered from where you leaned against Lucien’s warm chest. As midnight approached, you followed the path to Lucien’s altar, whispering your own silent prayers from behind as he lit the pyre with a flick of his wrist. 

Turning to face you, Lucien stood aglow in the firelight, his amber eyes and bright hair glowing like the sun. You smiled bashfully at his beauty, still in place as he walked up to you, and right past you. 

Stunned, you turned over your shoulder to find him standing on the dance floor, poised in a dramatic bow with his hand outstretched in askance. “My cunning vixen, will you do me the greatest honor of dancing with me?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, earning a mischievous wink as Lucien spun you into his arms, your chest flush against his, hearts beating as one. The fire burned a soft crackle, illuminating the dark night as the symphonia began to play a slower sort of melody. “Thank you for sharing your holiday with me,” you murmured, cheek laid against Lucien’s chest as you swayed.

Lips pressed gently to the top of your head, lingering there for a long moment. Pulling away slightly, Lucien’s hand tucked under your chin as he guided your face to look at his. “Thank you for giving me new, sweet memories, every day,” he murmured, eyes glowing with emotion before they flicked downward, suddenly turning dark.

Wandering hands found their way back to you, Lucien pulling you impossibly close as his hands squeezed your ass appreciatively. “There is one part of you that will always be the sweetest, though,” he purred, leaning down to tug your earlobe between his teeth. “And I won’t be sleeping until I’ve had a taste.” Before you could react, Lucien tossed you over his shoulder, one hand holding you still as the other moved precariously further beneath your dress while he strode back towards the manor.

A Happy Equinox, indeed.

[uchispeach]

Sycamore Tree (Ch. 2)

Pairing: Dark! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mention of violence & guns, implied stalking, non consensual touching, obsessive behavior, manipulative! Rafe…

This fic will contain dark content: such as dub-con/ non-con and violence. You have been warned.

12 missed calls. 10 from Jennifer and 2 from an unknown number. That’s what you’ve woken up to.

You sighed while rubbing your face. You were about to get up, leaving the comfort of your silky sheets just as your phone rang. “Hi” You spoke softly. “Thank God you answered!” A high pitched voice received your ears with no previous warning.

“I’m sorry Jen, I just checked my pho-” The dark haired girl was quick to interrupt you, adrenaline bubbling through her veins: “Did they arrest JJ?” The question took you by surprise “Why would they?” A frown decorated your face.

“Because he tried to shoot Topper?” Your upper body lifted itself from the pillows. “Wait- he fired the gun?” You made the move to get out of your bed, coldness hitting the soles of your feet. “Girl, yes he did! It was a miracle he didn’t hit him” Just like an automatic response, you paced back and forth, each step bringing you more and more anxiety.

“Is Topper pressing charges?” Your fingers grew white while you held the mobile with excessive force. “That’s what Kelce told me.” That last sentence made you stop in your tracks, frozen in the same spot.

Hundreds of scenarios traveled your brain, the last worse than the previous. “Y/N!” You flinched, remembering you were in the middle of a conversation. “Jen, I have to talk to Kiara. I’ll call you later.” The words were honeyed, almost like a plea. Even in the worst circumstances, you still worried about sounding rude.

“Alright, I just wanted to know you were safe… Even Rafe was concerned” The mention of the older blond made you tune back a little. “Rafe Cameron?” You couldn’t help the surprise on your tone. “Yes! He even asked for your number.”

(…)

“There’s no way on Earth we are letting you visit that boy!” Your mom didn’t hesitate in raising her voice, all in hopes of reaching your sister’s common sense.

“I already told you, we weren’t even on the same side of the island when it happened!” Kiara was relentless, stubborn with the idea of checking on her friends after yesterday’s rough night.

A lie or two had been told to your parents, something about assisting a small Kook reunion and religiously staying away from any messy party.

“I don’t care about that, you are not leaving this house on your own!” She waved her hands in annoyance. Desperation leaking through her words. “Then-” Your sister was cut short: “And you are not getting your phone back!”

Kiara took some steps back, rage exuding from her body as she stomped her way to her bedroom.

Flushed and tense, your mother made the move to follow behind. Starting with big strides and frustrated huffs.

You didn’t hesitate to step in as soon as she reached the white door. “Mom, I’ll talk to her…Don't stress about it” You basically begged, putting your palms on her tense shoulders as a comforting gesture.

The older woman just sighed, lifting her arms in defeat before turning around.

You waited a few minutes before turning the handle. Your sweaty hands held the metal piece with unnecessary force. Sobs were the first thing you heard, coming from the wobbling mouth of the brunette.

Step by step, you got closer to her sitting body. Your pace was hesitant, still, you made it to the bed. You felt the mattress weighing down as you positioned yourself by her side.

In a natural response, your soft arms wrapped around her. Skin to the raspy fabric of her blouse. “This is all Sarah’s fault” You backed up a little at the sound of her voice, afraid of possible harsh words being spat your way.

Surprised at the blond’s mention, you pulled her right back in, caressing her back with your warm palm. “What do you mean?” Your voice was quiet like a whisper. “Topper caught her and John B…” She raised her head, to look straight at you.

“…getting cozy.” She let out a bitter snicker while a sour look invaded her features. “And just like that, John B was being drowned by that pretentious Kook…We just saw how his life was slipping away. All for a stupid girl.” You struggled to swallow, a big knot already forming in your throat.

“Y/N” She squeezed your hand while her eyes pleaded at you. “JJ was just trying to save him.” A dreadful feeling leaked into your heart, ignoring it, you wholeheartedly said: “Everything’s going to be okay” You rubbed Kiara’s back as the optimistic words left your lips.

And as her teary face buried in your chest, you couldn’t help but think the worst.

(…)

“Please tell me you’re safe” You breathed frantically on the phone’s speaker. “We are for now…No idea what will go down after the police are involved.” You shrugged, Pope’s voice echoing in your ears.

You recognized the fear behind his words. A situation like this was putting his future at risk. “I’m sure they’ll understand JJ’s reasoning…At the end, nobody was hurt!” You voiced out at a rushed pace.

Silence was your answer for some excruciating seconds. “Is Kiara available?” It was clear he preferred to ignore your intended reassurance. “Is not that I don’t want to speak with you…I actually feel a bit better after hearing your voice.” It was almost like he read your mind, just as a childhood friend would do.

“…It’s just-JJ is going crazy without the capability to contact her.” You understood, quietly sneaking out of your room and into the hallway. “I get it. I’ll get her on the phone…Just wait” You focused on avoiding any encounter with your parents.

“Oh and Y/N” His tone was quieter than usual, almost as if it carried some shame to it. “I want you to know I tried my best to de-escalate things…they just got too ugly.” A frown appeared on your brows as you spoke in reassurance: “I know Pope. You have absolutely no blame in this!” You were as loud as you could, showing your honesty.

“Now, don’t beat yourself up. We’ll find a way to sort this out!”

(…)

“Your phone rang like crazy” Your sister handed you the device. With your hands full of unoccupied bags you stared confusedly at her. “Who was it?” Your legs made their way to the porch.

“A random number…I didn’t answer though” She shrugged her shoulders while realization made your nervousness spike. “Oh, probably just spam.” And as hard as you tried to find a hint of suspicion on the brunette’s posture, she simply looked defeated.

“Hey! When I get back I’ll make you something nice for dinner” Your hand caressed her tanned shoulder as a last sign of support.

On your way to the gate, you couldn’t help but stare at the growing number of missed calls. Still, you decided to ignore them and continue your walk to the store.

(…)

The bags felt heavier under the burning afternoon sun, but the summer breeze made the situation a bit better.

Having your sundress lifted up softly by a wave of air made you walk faster to the safety of your home. Too distracted by the possibility of your full bags breaking and making a big mess, you didn’t notice yourself walking straight onto a hard surface.

Your chest crashed onto what you recognized to be another person's torso. A loud gasp was all you could mutter while apologetically staring into the “stranger’s” eyes.

“Rafe” Your voice sounded almost like a squeak of a caught mouse. The Cameron boy stood proudly in front of you, reverse cap, characteristic polo shirt and navy shorts on. He wasn’t late to comment on your clumsy act: “You should really watch we’re you’re going, Y/N.” And as those words left his pink lips, a small smirk started decorating his face.

In contrast, your features morphed into an embarrassed look. “I am so sorry” You emphasized the ‘so’ with clear remorse, as to which the blond only smiled wider. “No worries! I’ve always known you can be a little distracted.” That made you relax a little.

“Let me help you with that.” He expressed while already having ripped off the bags from your smaller hands. “Don’t bother-” he didn’t let you finish. “You know…” His factions grew serious. “…I’ve been trying to contact you.”

Your palms unconsciously got sweaty as you saw him lightly tilting his head to the side, and you noticed how his tall figure blocked the light from the sky, making him look a tad more imposing.

“Oh! How?” You smiled, taking the easy route. “You should really answer the phone.” It was an order, not an advice. “I…” Suddenly, you couldn’t find your communication skills anywhere.

“I was concerned about you.” He took a step closer, making you feel like there was not enough oxygen for both of you (even though you were outside).

“Well” You gulped heavily, before taking a deep, silent breath. “I am not the one who is in trouble.” You couldn’t be anything but truthful, and against all odds, you felt a strong trust for the Cameron boy.

“My house is a crazy place right now, and Kiara is the one suffering the most” You just continued to spill in the almost empty parking lot. “I imagine, why don’t you let me drive you home?” Again, the question stayed as a formality as he got your groceries on the back of his truck.

“Just if you want to.” That made him turn to face you, a wolfish grin showing a hint of his pearly white teeth. “Of course I want to, I’ll be damned if I don't.” You didn’t know if it was his words or the heat of the sunny day, but you felt the warmth reaching your cheeks.

And your flustered state only grew deeper as he put his big hand on your lower back, helping you enter his luxurious vehicle.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as his arm rubbed against your chest and abdomen; only brought back by the ‘click’ sound of the seat belt.

“Safety first” His tongue had a charming tone while still having his upper extremities resting on your skin. You only nodded in agreement, too enticed by his proximity; and when he pulled back, you couldn’t help but feel a bit conflicted.

The blond got on the driver’s seat, confidently turning on the truck and maneuvering the steering wheel with his long fingers. “So, how have you been holding up?” Genuine interest lingered in his question. “I’m…scared. I don’t want my friends going to jail.” You stopped, taking in some fresh air “I know bad decisions were taken, but still…”

“I don’t think you should be around that type of people…” You frowned, and he continued “…volatile people, who put everyone around them at risk. You deserve better than all the stress that comes with it.” You saw him pull his eyes away from the street just to stare deeply at you.

You didn’t know what it was, if his intense gaze, the lack of sleep or a wave of sensitivity thrown your way by the universe; but tears started forming on your eyes and your lip started wobbling, making the young man look at you with sympathy written all over his face. “See? Pogues bring nothing but problems” His hand reached out to pull back a strand of hair that was blocking your face.

“I know…I know they weren’t exactly right for acting that way but-but” You stumbled upon your words, a small sob interrupting your sentence. Rafe’s attention was back on the road but he still looked at you through the corner of his eyes.

“It’s alright…” The palm on your upper thigh took you by surprise; he caressed it confidently, making the hem of your skirt rise a little. “…Maybe we could find a way to…fix things.”

You blinked in uncertainty. “But how?” Even with his head facing upfront, you could still see the playful look on his face. “I know Topper can get a tad too emotional…he just needs a little guiding here and there.” The more he spoke, the more you understood what he meant.

“Would you do that for me?” Your eyes sparkled in hope, hope that kept you from unnerving as his hand traveled further up your leg. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?”

“Thank you” Your voice sounded almost like a whisper, produced by the slight dizziness forming on your brain.

“I’m not gonna lie, Y/N. I don’t understand why you’re so attached to them.” The sudden exasperation in his voice was subtle but not unnoticeable. His anger was accompanied by a harsh squeeze to your flesh.

The feeling of his fingertips burying into your skin made you breathe heavier.

The truck stopped without a warning, making you jump slightly. “Here we are!” He let go of you with a pat, cheerfully speaking.

“Thanks!” Was all you managed to let out. Your fingers made the move to open the door but you were stopped by his strong arms.

His warm breath hit your lips, and you stayed still as he undid the belt. “See you around?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“Sure!” You were quick to reply. Before jumping out of the vehicle and onto your front yard, you spoke: “And Rafe, thank you so much for offering your…help.”

“Of course” He nodded charmingly. You made your way inside the house, too shocked with the interaction to think about how he drove you home without the need of giving him the address.

A/N: I had salmonella, I got hospitalized for a few days, then, I was forced to stay at an internet-less town for a month; anyways, I hope I’ll be able to post next chapter in a few days 💕

[readychilledwine]

What Dreams May Come

Part One - Asher

Summary - 50 years after sending his pregnant mate and children into hiding, Tamlin wants nothing more than to reconnect with his family.

Warnings - Rhys Slander is HEAVY in this series, references to smut, references to abuse, death, schmurder, fated mates and hidden family trope, kind of angst, tension, if you see an error, no you didn't 👀

A/N - I was going to wait to post this mini series, but I can't. I've been rereading it over and over and judging it harshly (as I do all my writing), so I'm putting it out there before I abandon it. Ps- each child has their own powers. You will learn each child in depth during Araceli's chapter. These are just little previews. Bonus points if you can figure out what Asher’s might be.

🥀What Dreams May Come Masterlist🥀Tamlin Masterlist🥀Master Masterlist🥀

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears (seriously peep the blog. Adorable season court Dividers)

Asher was thoroughly unimpressed with the horned beast staring him down as he flirted with the twin river nymphs he had been chasing for a few days now. Feral eyes were locked on his chocolate brown ones before the body of the beast because to slowly approaching. Asher sighed as the nymphs dove back into the water of the river, whispered melodically in their native tongue. “And what manner of beast are you,” He motioned up and down. “I believe parents should write stories about you. Ugly thing, you are.” 

He froze as the beast shifted, long blonde hair and sun kissed skin replacing the fur. Strong arms went across a wide chest, “Be careful with your words, son. You look just like me.” 

Asher, in fact, did not look like Tamlin. Tamlin screamed of sun, golden blonde hair and green eyes, Asher sang for the moon, dark short hair styled to one side, deep chocolate eyes he must have gotten from his mother's side, tanned skin. It was in their facial structure, the sharp jawline, the nose. That is where the signs of Tamlin rested in his son.

He had grown into a tall male, strong from what Tamlin could tell, but definitely with the same soft heart he had. Tamlin could see it in those eyes. Eyes that currently swan with confusion. The Lord of Sping simply opened his arms smiling as his first son dropped the act and came to him. 

“Dad,” the word was foreign on Asher’s tongue. They had been in hiding for so very long, not even mentioning the word out of fear. Asher had not been held by his father since he was 4, but it felt like he remembered. 

Hugging Tamlin, hugging his dad, it reminded him of the first warm rain in a season. Of getting a blanket warmed near the fire on cold nights from his mother. Asher melted into it, savored it as he took in the vaguely familiar scent of petrichor and freshly trimmed grass.

“I missed you,” Tamlin's deep voice made his eyes close as he rested his head on his shoulder. “Tell me everything. Tell me every happy moment, every ache, tell me you hate me. Anything, Asher. Anything.”

His mother was not home when Asher brought him back to the cave she had turned into a true home. The rumors that she could move mountains were, possibly, not rumors in her son's eyes, because, behind the waterfall the cave was hidden by, she had created a home. Everything he and his siblings had needed was magically summoned and made by his mother. They never wanted anything during the 50 years they had been isolated. 

Asher knew now his mom's magic ensured they had beds, blankets, comfort, through technically stealing. To be conjured, it had to come from somewhere. He had written a poem once about being a shopkeeper in the Night Court and coming into an emptied out shop, but Asher would put money on his mother somehow leaving a note to bill the High Lord of Night. 

Asher had also written a poem about his Uncle finding said bill. His mother told him it was inappropriate while smiling and folding it into her back pocket. 

He and Tamlin stayed quiet as he let the blonde male look around, “They say you can take the female out of the Night Court, but never the Night Court out of the female.”

Asher scoffed at that, “I believe she picked our furniture and goods on where she wanted to take from. Can't feel bad stealing from a rich asshole,” he quoted her exact words. 

Tamlin gave him a look, his lips clearly trying to remain in a stern position. “Your uncle is a-”

“Pompous asshole who feels that he is the change the world needs by just existing and not acting,” Asher was raising a dark brow at him as he poured them some tea. “Mom told me.”

“Asher,” Tamlin continued to try to be firm, “We do not speak of family that way.”

Asher blinked at him, unphased. This child, his oldest son, his mind was unwavering. Not even the Gods themselves could convince them of his Uncle Rhysand's good had they tried. It was his mom's fault, she was blunt and cut throat with her honesty, even when she knew lying would have been best.

Asher had found the history. He'd read the story of how his grandfather had threatened the life of his grandmother, forcing his father's hand to tell him where Rhysand would be meeting his mother and youngest sister. He read how his grandfather forced his father to watch as he mutilated them. 

He then read how Rhysand and his maternal grandfather got their revenge. Minds being melted, an innocent female, a victim in her own right, slaughtered mercilessly. Asher’s mother had still chosen his father, though. She was the only one who saw both sides and felt both heavy hands. Asher knew from the sadness in her eyes she would pick Tamlin again and again, though he had not met his own mate to know why yet.

“Do you always chase females,” Tamlin finally sat, relaxing enough to truly appreciate how handsome his son was.

A wide grin appeared on Asher’s face, “I can't help but to chase them. I've never met an ugly female,  father.”

Tamlin internally cringed at the word father, so informal to the earlier plea of “Dad”. “So no type?”

“Pretty, and they all are. Has to enjoy my poetry, and they all do. I have a, uh, certain way with words."

“So you seduce them with just words?”

Asher glanced up, “Why try something else when I am so good at it.” His face was filled with pride as he went to the book shelf and grabbed a leather book worn with love. He handed the heavy collection of paper to him, “Go ahead. Tell me how fantastic I am.”

Tamlin chuckled as he opened the book. It was definitely made in the Night Court, a sign of where his wife had been technically stealing from outside the obvious furniture and leathers Asher was wearing.  The pages were thick, stained slightly from ink transferring from paper to hand and back. His son's handwriting was influenced by his wife. Soft scrolls flowing together like a melody. The poetry was good, very good. “You haven't decided if you like Quatrain or Villanelle, have you?”

“No,” Asher shifted. “Should I have?”

Tamlin shook his head, “I'm over 500 years old and still bounce from around with different formats and stanza structures.” He continued reading an odd feeling setting into him before he closed the book and saw the shocked look on his son's face.

"You write poetry?!" He watched deep eyes light up and the conversation flew from there, father and son, bonding over poetry, over literature. 

The topics grew, varying from serious, to funny, to gossip. Tea constantly poured between them as they discussed being forced to train, of their mutual love of chocolate, of their favorite writers. Tamlin learned so much as the hours past before Asher asked if he wanted some fresh air.

Asher was strong, mentally, emotionally, and physically. It comforted Tamlin as they moved outside using a back magical gate made by Araceli. It took them to a vegetable garden that thrived, insects flying all around, fruit hanging from heavy trees. “Where is this place,” Tamlin looked around.

“We're still in The Middle,” Asher laid out the blanket before gently tossing his bag down. “I'm sure you secretly do recognize the cottage we're near.” The High Lord did, nodding as he studied the place he'd been told his whole life to avoid. The Weaver’s home was deadly, dangerous, and forbidden. Yet his son sat outside of it like it wasn't even phasing him. “Mom made her a deal. The Weaver likes her hair. Mom likes the protect she gives us. Once a year, mom let's The Weave cut her hair for threads in exchange for protection and us being allowed to grow this garden.”

The horrified expression on his father's face wasn't missed by Asher. A bargain with a being like The Weaver was not taken lightly. His mom worked hair to ensure her hair stayed healthy, long, and ready. The Weaver claimed her hair had some magical properties, but all Asher envisioned when he was young was the ancient being using them as some sort of enchanted tie to his mom, ready to rip her from them and eat them at any given notice. 

“Is she insane?!”

Eyes narrowed at him, “She was alone,” Asher emphasized the word making it a dagger. “She did a lot of dangerous things to protect us. You should be worshiping the very ground she walks upon.” 

Momma’s boy. 

Asher was still momma’s boy. 

Tamlin shook his head, “I love her. More than you know and understand. I love you more than you understand.”

“Loved them so much you hid them away in one of the most dangerous places in the realm?” The soft female voice had Asher smirking. Tamlin turned to face a young blonde, her hair falling in soft waves with braids placed strategically to help prevent the locks from falling into soft green eyes. 

This. This was him. Had Tamlin been born a female, this is what he'd look like. One cheek dimpled as she smiled, the asymmetry flattered her, complimenting soft cheek bones, a gently sloped nose, full blush lips. Along every inch of her face, freckles danced, marking her skin like soft kisses. 

“Sister,” a pen met paper as Asher spoke. “You are busy little bee I see.” 

Her hands were both filled with baskets almost overflowing with herbs, vegetables, edible flowers. Her nails had dirt under the nails and staining the skin. She carrying a look of pride and accomplishment Tamlin knew well. This was her garden and it was fruitful. “Your squash was ready,” she was speaking to Asher but her eyes were on Tamlin. “Momma said she could turn it into soup?” Asher nodded, but he was deep into capturing Something on page, a grunt was his only other response. She continued to stare at Tamlin, “Do you know which of your children I am?”

Tamlin wanted to roll his eyes at her, say of course, but he refrained, watching as she moved, sitting next to Asher but slightly behind him. “I know my own baby girl, Taryn,” the High Lord said. “Your dimple gives you away.” He couldn't help but reach for her cheek, but a firm hand stopped him from touching her.

“I don't believe my sister gave you permission to put your hands on her face.” A smirk of pride grew on Tamlin's face as Asher now fully looked at his father and little sister. “You may touch her when, and if, Taryn allows. Until then, no.”

Taryn leaned her head onto Asher’s shoulder as Tamlin lowered his hand. “You two are close?”

“Very,” they answered in unison.

“How were Darya and Amaya?”

“Who?”

“The river nymphs twins,” Taryn glared at Asher. “The two you've been trying to bed for a week now?”

Asher sighed and laid back, “They're impossible!”

Taryn and Tamlin glanced at him, “How so,” the high lord asked.

“They're identical! They said they only sleep with males who can tell them apart! Their hair is the same length. Their eyes both sparkle like a clear lake. They both have the perfect little nymph figure. Hair black as coal. They're gorgeous, fun, witty.” Asher covered his eyes by dramatically laying his arm across his face, “One of them I am most interested in. I believe it is Darya.”

“Does she have a shell braided Into her hair?”

Asher nodded at his sister's question, “She's.. she's just stunning. Inside and out. I may be in love."

Tamlin hid a smile as he reached into Taryn's woven basket filled with fruit and stole an apple. Asher continued telling Taryn his woes before sighing. "I wrote a new poem for her," he whispered with an air of insecurity. "I just.. wish she would respond some way, any way really.

He stood and then reached down to grab each basket, “I'll take these home. I.. I'm going to try just her. Maybe that will help?" He looked to his sister and father for some reassurance.

Taryn nodded, “I like that idea.”

“I think she's special.”

“Then she is,” Tamlin answered simply. “Go. I'll take care of Taryn.” Asher nodded, disappearing in the same gate his mother had opened.

Silence fell between the two on the blanket. The air was thick and heavy, a contrast to the brightness of his daughter's garden, to the smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes.

“You may hold me.”

4 words. 4 soft words. Spoken with hesitation, anger, grief, fear. 

Yet they opened a floodgate as a father pulled his daughter to him, the process beginning again as the sunset behind them. 

Tamlin knew his goal as he took him the scent of strawberries lingering in her blonde hair.

Board by board. Brick by brick. Nail by nail. He was going to rebuild his family. Even if doing so hurt him in the process.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

And my fellow Tamlin girlies:

@nocasdatsgay @pit-and-the-pen

[marchsfreakshow]

The Small Things [Tate Langdon]

Tooth rotting fluff ! / A little short thing

Tate was practically almost always over, but never failed to make you feel like you were special.

Everyone thank @marchsfreak for giving me this cute ass idea! I genuinely love it and find it adorable<3 I'm so sorry this took so long, i've been feeling dreadful recently. (So my writing isn't up to my normal standards sorry-)

Not proofread lol

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tate loved being held by you.

Possibly the only thing he could love anymore.

You were scooped up into his arms whenever possible, and stay like that for as long as you humanly could. Wether or not you were straddling him and just playing with his shirt, or Tate was laying in front of you, letting your arms wrap around his torso. It never failed to make the ghost smile. It was all he craved, more than anything, in the drab murder house.

"Tate!" You squealed, your arms instinctvely wrapping around his shoulders to keep yourself hoisted up. Tate's response was just a little chuckle and a wider smile, since your laugh was all he wanted to hear right now. He tightened his grip on your body and legs, walking around the dim basement. Each time you felt his hands, even jokingly, start to loosen under you, your grip on his shoulders and neck tightened, curling up best you could by his chest. "You actually get off on this! This is just cruel..."

"not cruel at all! I like feeling you up close and personal." The ghost chuckled again, almost curling you like some weights just because. As much as you enjoyed being lifted like it was nothing, your mother soon called your name from the top of the basement.

Begrudgingly, Tate let you go, holding onto the small of your back as he let you stand up. His fingers still lingered on your shirt as you started to walk back up to the house. The talk realistically only lasted about 5 minutes, but to the ghost it felt like forever. Time always went so much slower, when you were dead. As soon as the idea came into Tate's head, he silently jumped his way up the stairs, hiding himself behind the open door.

"I'm back." You started, starting to make your way down the creaky steps. There was silence for a moment and it only confused you. "Tate?" You asked down into the dim, dingy basement. Every step only worried you further. As you walked down, you took a deep breath, assuming Tate was about to pull something that could scare you. Like usual.

As soon as your foot stepped on the basement floor, Tate's arms scoped you up. His arms wrapping around your front tightly and lifting you up effortlessly. Your feet suddenly leaving the ground made a scream evict from your mouth. "OH MY GOD TATE-!" A sly smile was felt against your neck as your hands gripped onto the ghost's arms tightly. "Put me downnn!" You whined a bit with your legs still in the air for a second.

Instead of a verbal response, Tate just placed you down on the old couch, immediately laying himself on top of you. His face hiding in your neck. The ghost's arms rested on your shoulders as your own snaked around his back. One hand slowly starting to pet at his hair, the other rubbing his back. "You happy now you weird blondie?"

"Very." He murmered, putting a kiss to your neck.

"yeah? Good.." You muttered back, placing a kiss back onto Tate's hair. It only took a few minutes of the sweet silence between you before the ghost promptly fell asleep. "Who knew ghosts were so sleepy all the time hm?" You teased to no one, as Tate barely hummed in reply, snuggling himself closer to you. If he wasn't close enough already to be honest.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 2 EPISODE 07 || FAITH ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

“Wait, Claire!” I half-turned; he was almost upon me. The soft gray numbness around me quivered, and I felt a sort of frozen panic at the thought that the sight of him might rip it away from me. If it did, I would die, I thought, like a grub dug up from the soil and tossed onto a rock to shrivel, naked and defenseless in the sun. “No!” I said. “I don’t want to talk to you. Go away.” He hesitated for a moment, and I turned away from him and began to walk rapidly down the path toward the arbor. I heard his steps on the gravel of the path behind me, but kept my back turned, and walked faster, almost running. As I paused to duck under the arbor, he made a sudden lunge forward and grasped my wrist. I tried to pull away from him, but he held on tight. “Claire!” he said again. I struggled, but kept my face turned away; if I didn’t look at him, I could pretend he wasn’t there. I could stay safe. He let go of my wrist, but grabbed me by both shoulders instead, so that I had to lift my head to keep my balance. His face was sunburned and thin, with harsh lines cut beside his mouth, and his eyes above were dark with pain. “Claire,” he said more softly, now that he could see me looking at him. “Claire—it was my child, too.” “Yes, it was—and you killed it!” I ripped away from him, flinging myself through the narrow arch. I stopped inside, panting like a terrified dog. I hadn’t realized that the arch led into a tiny vine-covered folly. Latticed walls surrounded me on all sides—I was trapped. The light behind me failed as his body blocked the arch. “Don’t touch me.” I backed away, staring at the ground. Go away! I thought frantically. Please, for God’s sake, leave me in peace! I could feel my gray wrappings being inexorably stripped away, and small, bright streaks of pain shot through me like lightning bolts piercing cloud. He stopped, a few feet away. I stumbled blindly toward the latticed wall and half-sat, half-fell onto a wooden bench. I closed my eyes and sat shivering. While it was no longer raining, there was a cold, damp wind coming through the lattice to chill my neck.

He didn’t come closer. I could feel him, standing there, looking down at me. I could hear the raggedness of his breathing. “Claire,” he said once more, with something like despair in his voice, “Claire, do ye not see … Claire, you must speak to me! For God’s sake, Claire, I don’t know even was it a girl or a boy!” I sat frozen, hands gripping the rough wood of the bench. After a moment, there was a heavy, crunching noise on the ground in front of me. I cracked my eyes open, and saw that he had sat down, just as he was, on the wet gravel at my feet. He sat with bowed head, and the rain had left spangles in his damp-darkened hair. “Will ye make me beg?” he said.

“It was a girl,” I said after a moment. My voice sounded funny; hoarse and husky. “Mother Hildegarde baptized her. Faith. Faith Fraser. Mother Hildegarde has a very odd sense of humor.”

The bowed head didn’t move. After a moment, he said quietly, “Did you see the child?” My eyes were open all the way now. I stared at my knees, where blown drops of water from the vines behind me were making wet spots on the silk. “Yes. The mâitresse sage-femme said I ought, so they made me.” I could hear in memory the low, matter-of-fact tones of Madame Bonheur, most senior and respected of the midwives who gave of their time at L’Hôpital des Anges. “Give her the child; it’s always better if they see. Then they don’t imagine things.” So I didn’t imagine. I remembered. “She was perfect,” I said softly, as though to myself. “So small. I could cup her head in the palm of my hand. Her ears stuck out just a little—I could see the light shine through them. The light had shone through her skin as well, glowing in the roundness of cheek and buttock with the light that pearls have; still and cool, with the strange touch of the water world still on them. “Mother Hildegarde wrapped her in a length of white satin,” I said, looking down at my fists, clenched in my lap. “Her eyes were closed. She hadn’t any lashes yet, but her eyes were slanted. I said they were like yours, but they said all babies’ eyes are like that.” Ten fingers, and ten toes. No nails, but the gleam of tiny joints, kneecaps and fingerbones like opals, like the jeweled bones of the earth itself. Remember man, that thou art dust.… I remembered the far-off clatter of the Hôpital, where life still went on, and the subdued murmur of Mother Hildegarde and Madame Bonheur, closer by, talking of the priest who would say a special Mass at Mother Hildegarde’s request. I remembered the look of calm appraisal in Madame Bonheur’s eyes as she turned to look me over, seeing my weakness. Perhaps she saw also the telltale brightness of theapproaching fever; she had turned again to Mother Hildegarde and her voice had dropped further—perhaps suggesting that they wait; two funerals might be needed. And unto dust thou shalt return. But I had come back from the dead. Only Jamie’s hold on my body had been strong enough to pull me back from that final barrier, and Master Raymond had known it. I knew that only Jamie himself could pull me back the rest of the way, into the land of the living. That was why I had run from him, done all I could to keep him away, to make sure he would never come near me again. I had no wish to come back, no desire to feel again. I didn’t want to know love, only to have it ripped away once more. But it was too late. I knew that, even as I fought to hold the gray shroud around me. Fighting only hastened its dissolution; it was like grasping shreds of cloud, that vanished in cold mist between my fingers. I could feel the light coming, blinding and searing. He had risen, was standing over me. His shadow fell across my knees; surely that meant the cloud had broken; a shadow doesn’t fall without light.

“He had risen, was standing over me. His shadow fell across my knees; surely that meant the cloud had broken; a shadow doesn’t fall without light.

“Claire,” he whispered. “Please. Let me give ye comfort.” 

“Comfort?” I said. “And how will you do that? Can you give me back my child? ”

He sank to his knees before me, but I kept my head down, staring into my upturned hands, laid empty on my lap. I felt his movement as he reached to touch me, hesitated, drew back, reached again.“No,” he said, his voice scarcely audible.

“No, I canna do that. But…with the grace of God…I might give ye another?”

His hand hovered over mine, close enough that I felt the warmth of his skin. I felt other things as well: the grief that he held tight under rein, the anger and the fear that choked him, and the courage that made him speak in spite of it. I gathered my own courage around me, a flimsy substitute for the thick gray shroud. Then I took his hand and lifted my head, and looked full into the face of the sun.

Cap 28 - The Coming of Light  ~ ‘Dragonfly In Amber’

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugou Katsuki: Model Student

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: 2k+, fluff

• When you’re sent to assist designer Bakugou Mitsuki, you get more than you bargain with both food and explosives.

Warnings: Mature language, slight spoilers, Class 3A

>>>>——————————>

When Bakugou Mitsuki 'politely demanded' that you accept a long term job on behalf of her fashion company you couldn't exactly refuse -not that she'd let you- but like your other modelling contracts, it wouldn't disrupt your hero studies aside from spending your free time at her home. The only unexpected factor, was her infamous son.

"WHO THE HELL IS THIS?"

You practically jumped out of your skin, the measure wrapped around your waist was left unattended as Mitsuki slapped the demanding newcomer upside the head.

"Manners Katsuki! This is (L/n) (Y/n), they're the model for my latest assignment."

"Nice to meet you." You gave an awkward wave, attempting to keep the tape in place as you did so but he did not seem impressed, only scoffing and walking away (regardless of the infuriated scowl his mother painfully engraved into his retreating figure).

"I apologise on his behalf, being apart of U.A's latest Big Three went to his head a bit but he's grown a lot since his first year with everything that happened. Still a moody 18 year old though." The woman forcibly laughed whilst resuming her work. Presumably he was home for the break like you, but worked at an agency to fill the time. If nothing else, this job assignment would be flammable.

—

Despite seeing him on a few visits, tonight’s encounter was the second time you’d actually spoken. Finally you got to rest, you'd tried to help as much as you could once Mitsuki got what she needed from you and she'd urged you to take a break in the lounge to prevent you from helpfully intervening and exhausting yourself.

Luckily, Bakugou was unintentionally keeping you company with reluctant conversation whilst he was cooking his dinner, you meanwhile took residence at the table scrolling through your phone.

"Have you eaten?" His lack of curses made you look up with a skeptical expression but you answered with a shrug, planning to eat once you got home.

"Not yet."

"Just because you're a shitty model, you gotta fucking eat as you don't need to—" Bakugou bit back with the stereotype, similar to that of either scolding or concern - you were uncertain.

"I do eat, I promise."

"Prove it then dumbass."

"Wha-how?" He smirked as he handed you a bowl of curry mid question, the one he'd been carefully concocting as you made idle chatter with him for the past 30 minutes. Almost like he'd planned it. Surely not.

"You didn't have to give me any, but thank you Bakugou. I’ll help clean up.”

"Tch, I made too much and I'm not wasting good food." Katsuki's tone held somewhat defensive aggression but he joined you at the table regardless, listing off ingredients and exchanging food preferences with you.

———

Over the various visits to the lovely Bakugou household, especially if your work with Mitsuki was scheduled when Katsuki was home, you’d usually have a meal prepared for you.

Admittedly you’d grown accustomed to the environment and to him, discussing hero work and exams with Katsuki over food and then helping wash up afterwards.

You’d grown more confident around him having had time to understand his personality, although the second you’d blew soapy bubbles at him you immediately regretted your decision.

You were met with a glowering crimson, floaty suds lingering on his nose, the scar on his cheek, and the front tips of his hair. Then there was the snarl and cocky smirk.

“You wanna go (L/n)? DIE!” It was accompanied by a spark of explosion angled toward the water - in such a trajectory that bubbles coated you like a snowball to the face causing you to huff in frustration to blow a couple off.

Bakugou howled manically at his retaliation, covering his mouth and pointing at you whilst you wiped the suds from your eyes.

“Ugh, take this murder god!” You flicked the remnants left on your hand at him which did nothing in all honesty. Instead a towel was thrown over your face courtesy of the blonde, which you irritably utilised. A string of curses was muttered beneath the material before you’d pulled it off, having believed you got rid of all the substance.

“Dumbass, can’t even beat bubbles.” Bakugou snorted, his gaze not having left you the entire time. “C’mere.”

You hadn’t the chance to refute, stunned by the fingers sliding across your jaw when he’d stepped forward and tilted your head with a hint of roughness that was inexplicably him. His other hand took the towel from your own and began carefully wiping your eyebrow and lower lip with a degree of scrutiny. Then he checked you for further discrepancies with more attention that you felt was required, and in order to hide your imminent flustering you delicately ran your finger across his scar to remove the last bubble there.

“You had something…”

An act that left him meeting your eyes with his own disarming ones, it felt intimate in a way like sparks were flickering alight despite no longer being connected by touch.

Just then Mitsuki burst into the main area, tape measure wrapped around her wrist and a determined gleam in her eye.

“Have you two finished dinner yet?” That’s when she took in the sight before her, you two in close proximity when directing your attention toward her but making no intention to distance yourselves. “…Because take your time, I don’t need (L/n) yet.”

Then she disappeared again, leaving you both alone in the disturbed silence. You took a step back from him wearing a polite smile and gestured toward his mother’s workspace.

“I should probably get back.”

“Hm, thanks for the help shitty model.”

Upon entering, you didn’t expect to be scolded for returning earlier than Mitsuki expected.

“What are you doing?! Get back out there, I didn’t mean to ruin— crap, I mean I’ve never seen Katsuki act— ugh it’s hopeless.”

“I’m here to work, and as amazing as your sons’ cooking is, I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality.” You bowed as accompaniment, but the woman only sighed in defeat.

“Right, of course you’re only focused on the work. Just like Katsuki, how perfectly fitting…”

“Huh?”

“I said let’s finish this fitting!” She clapped her hands with a renewed determination, fabric at the ready.

———

A photoshoot showcasing the reinvented designs was your reason for a quick visit today, arriving at the Bakugou household to meet with the woman herself so you could travel there together.

Naturally, you weren’t expecting her analytic gaze to scan over your outfit with more criticality than usual, which is when you’d heard her contemplate aloud.

"I need to make some adjustments..."

"What?! The photoshoot is in 2 hours and this is all I have!" You gestured to the outfit she'd deemed perfect only yesterday, believing you'd only be heading straight to the shoot and home, you didn't see the need for a spare set of clothes.

Mitsuki shook her head, throwing a discarded hoodie in your direction before shooing you into the bathroom. Upon returning, tugging the hoodie down to cover as much as possible despite the size differences, you handed over your clothes and awaited her return at the kitchen counter with a tea warming your hands.

"Oi old hag, have you seen - what the fuck do you think you're doing in my hoodie (Y/n)?!" Immediately, the sheer ferocity in the familiar tone had you internally screaming and spinning 180 to face him.

"Katsuki! It's not - Mitsuki took my outfit for adjustments and gave me this, I didn't know it was yours!" You corrected yourself knowing he didn't tolerate excuses and skipped straight to the point, though it didn't nullify the death glare he sported.

"Whatever, you don't look like shit in it so just tell me how long she's gonna take because I need it." You missed the flush on his features after he properly looked at you, scanning over your legs which were overly exposed thanks to his item before turning away with a frustrated sigh.

"Yo Bakubro, what's taking so long - ohhh wow." Immediately the interruption had snapped Katsukis attention so fast you expected him to have whiplash.

The guy in question stood rather awestruck, hand running through his spiked crimson hair with an equally bright blush to match as his gaze landed on you.

"Not a fucking word shitty hair!" Bakugou practically threatened, skidding between the two of you with his hand moving to your side to keep you behind him.

"Dude, the others are waiting outside so we're good. I'm Kirishima Eijiro, a friend of Bakugou." Apparently a regular visitor to the house, he offered his hand whilst you sidestepped past Katsuki to meet him.

"Pleasure, I'm (L/n) (Y/n) and I'm here for an assignment with Mitsuki."

"Ah you're the not-so-annoying one he keeps talking about."

"You talk ab—" You never got to ask when Mitsuki hailed your attention.

"Done!"

The next moments happened in a blur, clothes were thrusted into your chest then an echo of voices called for 'Kacchan' who seemed panicked by their entry and shoved you into the bathroom telling you to 'hurry the fuck up'. Quickly you changed, tossing him the hoodie the second you'd cracked open the door, then came the slam from where he'd left with Kirishima after ushering the others out. All you could do was slump against the bathroom door with a sigh of exhausted relief.

———

The final session working with Bakugou Mitsuki, you’d expected it but that didn’t mean you were glad about it. You enjoyed the experience more than most jobs and you could probably chalk part of that down to Katsuki, not that you’d breathe a word of it.

Mitsuki seemed slightly despondent however, always flicking to the front door with a sense of hopefulness but soon morphing to disappointment when it didn’t open.

“What’s wrong Mitsuki-san?“

"Sorry (Y/n), Katsuki was pretty adamant about seeing you before you left so your last task wasn't really necessary but that brat must be too busy." She’d explained with a haphazard shrug, you weren’t even mad that she’d kept longer for no apparent reason due to your surprise that her son had personally wanted to what? Say goodbye? Or rather good riddance.

"Oh - no that's fine, thanks Mitsuki it was really great working with you the past month, and I hope we can do it again sometime. Please send my regards to him."

The sheer amount of wind caught you off guard as you walked through the near deserted neighbourhood toward the station after your final farewells, a faint sound of blasting echoing with a familiar figure abruptly skidding into your path. He still donned his hero gear so you assumed he shot over the moment he was released from his internship, the man now standing proud with his arms folded expectantly.

"What that's it? You're done?"

"Yeah, I have to get back to my internship too. Why?"

You couldn't fathom why Katsuki seemed so disturbed by this, his expression wasn't as aggressive and there was a distinct flash of disappointment in his eyes that he was quick to morph to ferocity.

"I don't have to cook extra anymore."

"I thought that was accidental?" You quipped back, knowing you were already on thin ice.

"Just didn't want you feeling guilty dumbass."

"My hero..."

"Shut up shitty model! You're your own hero, and I'll beat your ass in the ranking once we graduate." He’d growled, leaning closer to you and desperately trying to keep his voice down.

"Such a sweet talker Katsuki, too bad it'll never happen~"

"LIKE HELL YOU'LL—argh?!" The playful punch to his chest quietened him, your confidence and gratitude shining through as you held your fist in place whilst speaking.

"I'm glad I got to know you, I can't wait to work with you in the future."

"You're at the top of my list too - so long as you don't get in my fucking way." A gloved hand took your fist and intertwined his hand with yours like in an arm wrestle, giving it a challenging squeeze.

"Please, you'll be in my way."

The two of nodded in agreement, touch slipping from each other with the last brush of your fingertips feeling like a spark.

Then you were gone, and the fire burned brighter than ever.

———

This was the U.A. dormitories, the sign read 'Class 3A' so you knew you were in the right place but that didn't calm your jittering nerves at all. Yes you'd kept in contact and it was guaranteed that he was going to scold you for showing up unannounced but it remained unknown whether it'd be a serious one or a usual temper flare.

Amping up your false confidence, you walked in albeit hesitantly and your unfamiliar presence was immediately noticed.

"Good evening, oh and welcome - um can I help you find someone?"

"That'd be great, I—" The kindness radiating off of the green haired hero was relieving, but a sudden burst of sparks slid before you rather eagerly which stifled your reply.

"I can do it, anything you need I'm your guy! Kaminari Denki by the way beautiful."

"Kaminari! Don't leave me behind like that - ohmygod you were right, it's the hot model from the magazines. They're so attractive and a hero, what I wouldn't do—"

"Mineta! Stop being - AAHHHH it's (L/n) (Y/n)!" The pinkette squealed wholeheartedly once chastising her classmate.

A clutter originated from the kitchen the moment your name was mentioned, the others hardly concerned with the noise but rather far more interested in you.

"Sorry to show up uninvited like this, but thank you all for welcoming me." Gratefully you bowed to the group, many fussing prior to a harsh interruption causing them to part.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Heeyyy Katsuki..." Your tone seemed more awkward, he noticed the way you went to step toward him but second guessed your situation and took a step backwards instead.

“They know each other?”

“No way, they couldn’t be acquainted.”

Even with the muttering of his classmates, you gave a charming smirk and Bakugou heaved a defeated sigh but made an unexpected proposition anyway.

"I'm starting dinner for these shitty extras, so you should stay (Y/n)."

"Don't I need permission?"

"You think we're gonna argue with Bakugou? He never wants people over - let alone asks them to stay! None of us are missing this." An ecstatic blonde eagerly answered with thumbs up.

"Shut it Pikachu!" Katsuki stalked off in the direction of the kitchen gesturing for you to follow once Mina had taken your jacket. You thanked the pretty pinkette, following his lead when you heard the class collectively panic for you.

"This was the scent on Bakugous' hoodie remember? The one we couldn't pinpoint." Mina whispered to Kaminari, the two concocting rather scandalous explanations but ultimately decided their explosive friend wouldn't have the charm to date a model.

"Noooo, not in there whilst he's cooking. He'll kill you." Sero gingerly tapped your shoulder to halt your journey and you only smiled at him oh so innocently - clearly you did not know the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou.

"I'll be fine, I'll help prepare dinner as a thanks for having me here." The response only earned silent prayers, Mineta literally on his knees praying whilst Izuku released a barely audible squeak.

Inconspicuously, the class subtlety watched as you strolled in, purely intrigued by your unbreakable will to die - yet their discoveries were earth shattering.

"Hey, can I help?" A touch to his shoulder.

"Tch, my cooking not good enough for you anymore shitty model?" An elbow to your side.

"Your food is the best I've ever tasted which is why I want to learn from the best dumbass." The playful teasing which seemed commonplace for the two of you whilst you chopped vegetables.

"I missed you, fucking disaster."

"Well I am rather delightful, it's no wonder~"

"I take it back, you're still annoying as hell." This time his usual uncaring demeanour returned, cold words in tow and it only softened your resolve.

Leaving the vegetables on the chopping board, you carefully leaned into his side with a nudge as a form of embrace rather than hug him.

"I sort of missed you too Katsuki, but sorry for intruding." It was quiet, but genuine, and he couldn't help but reciprocate with his cocky attitude melting away replaced with a content smirk.

"S'fine, glad you did." Katsuki pulled away slightly to face you properly and allowed himself to enjoy the moment, finding himself looking at you like he’d done when covered in soap. Only this time, there were no imperfections to find.

Maybe this time…

At this point, the redhead returned from his evening jog to find the majority of his class crouched down and discreetly peering into the kitchen area with Jirou using her earphone jack to relay the conversation. Kirishima knew Bakugou had decided to make dinner tonight and no one would be brave enough to step foot in there, so the whole ordeal was honestly baffling - that is until he casually walked up to the counter without a care for his furiously protesting classmates attempting to drag him down to their level.

"No way, (L/n)-chan is here?! How've you been, long time no see!" He cheerily called, nodding to Katsuki and yourself who instantly parted from each other and received agonising cries from his peers who were hoping for a token of affection.

"Damn it shitty hair!" Katsuki cussed, sporting a glare appropriate for the self entitled ‘murder god’ whilst you hopped over to the shark-tooth hero equipped with an excited greeting.

"Hi Kirishima! Great to see you again."

“Huh? Was I interrupting something?”

Yourself and Bakugou exchanged a neutral glance, ready to answer ‘No’ but didn’t get the opportunity when a booming unanimous reply of irritation came from the entirety of 3A.

“YES!!”

<——————���———<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[reader-wandering18]

Yuu Hunter x Hunter

Strange beasts and monsters. Vast riches, hidden treasures. Terrible places, unexplored frontiers. Mysterious and unknown.

People who are drawn to the magic of those words are known as HUNTERS.

Yuu Freecs, a boy from a vast, cruel and mysterious world, came to Twisted Wonderland.

What was a boy doing at Night Raven College?

Freecs' adventures leave his friends speechless. His kind personality reaches out to all students, including those who are not human.

The first time he arrived at Night Raven College was a moment that surprised everyone at that prestigious institution.

— A child? — Why did the dark mirror bring a child?

— Say your name.

— AMAZING, A TALKING MIRROR!

His surprise and excitement were reflected on his face. The scream he gave let the most observant ones see that he was someone curious and full of energy.

— Another Cheka — Leona sighed tiredly

— What kind of gel use to keep your hair like grass? — Vil commented upon seeing his black hair with green tips. He felt like combing it himself.

If someone young like him was at Night Raven College, it was because he had really powerful magic, right?

Wrong. That child does not contain even a pinch of magic. Many could not believe it and others made fun of him, but the boy did not appear expressionless or scared.

— Magic? JUST LIKE IN THE FAIRY TALES MY AUNT MITO TOLD ME?! I'm really sorry I don't have anything like that big mirror! But I use something very different than magic!

He seemed strangely excited.

— Waaa that boy really has a lot of energy, he's the worst enemy of an introvert like me — Idia had said scared through his tablet.

After that revelation a cat burst into the room. Demanding Yuu's place.

— That cat also talks!

— I'm not a cat!

— Is that so? So you're a magical animal? Mmm I remember Kurapika told me that magical animals can talk. But you don't look like a Kiriko at all.

— What are you talking about kid? I am the great and powerful Grim!

The place caught fire and everyone started running and screaming. Among all the most outstanding was Kalim who got his butt burned. While the other dorm leaders were discussing who should catch the cat, suddenly, that boy appeared in front of them.

— Take it

— Nyaaaaa Let me go!

— !!

The dorm leaders were surprised to see Yuu in front of them when a moment ago he was in the center of the room. And in his hands he held Grim wrapped in Kalim's robe that was previously burning.

Even Kalim looked confused. Yuu appearing behind him, said he would borrow his robe and took it off without any difficulty.

— Sorry, I don't know how to extinguish the fire. Catching it was the only thing I could do.

That year would be very interesting.

In the dwarf mine, Ace, Deuce, Yuu, and Grim were resting on the outskirts of that place due to the mysterious appearance of an ink monster that forced them to retreat. Ace, Deuce, began to fight when Yuu's scream made them shut up.

— Don't worry!

They both saw how the child stood up with great determination on his face.

— They won't be expelled, I won't allow it. His dream is to study at that school. Right? If we work as a team we can beat him. Also, I can't allow you to disappoint your mother — Yuu said looking at Deuce — it must be very important to you as it is to me to look for my father.

Yuu's innocent smile made both young men leave for some strange reason strongly hit… in their ego. How could I let a child save their skin? That would be extremely humiliating!

In the end, they all returned to school with the magic stone in their hands. Thanks to teamwork.

— Being appointed supervisor at such a young age and just entering is a great achievement!

— Is-Is that so?

— Why do you look so nervous? You seem so confident when we were in the mine.

— It's just that… it's my first time in school

—……WHAT?!

Yuu explained to them how she came from another world and lived on an island called Whale Island. There was only one other child on the entire island but he didn't play with her. She never went to school but studied at home with the help of her aunt Mito.

— Hey, now that I remember. In the mine you mentioned your father, right? — Grim asked

— Or yes, he left me when I was a baby. I'm looking for him.

— Are you looking for him? Your dad left you, why do you want to go look for him?!

At that Yuu stopped which made the two teenagers who were after him do so as well. He turned around and they both noticed that in Yuu's gaze there was nothing like remorse for being abandoned. On the contrary.

There was a great curiosity in his gaze.

— My father is a hunter. I also became one, to look for him and to know the world that he chose instead of taking care of me.

Yuu smile while mentioning his father.

— Hunter?

— Hello!

— …Hello

Malleus was in Ramshackle taking his usual walk. He appeared in the dormitory as usual, but was surprised by a child who took him completely off guard the moment he appeared.

He had heard from Lilia about the arrival of a human child without magic at the school. Which surprised him. But he didn't expect to see him in the abandoned dormitory.

The child smiles at him

— My name is Yuu, Yuu Freecss! It's a pleasure!

Yuu extended his hand to what Malleus saw without being able to believe what the child was doing. But it was rude not to greet, so he shakes hands with the small human child.

— … Aren't you afraid of me?

— Mmm, It's true that your aura is strong, but I don't feel a level of threat like Hisoka.

— What are you talking about? I don't know that Hisoka… Don't you know who I am?

— No, I'm sorry. — said the boy somewhat embarrassed.

His reaction seemed genuine, there was nothing like malaise or fear. It reminded him in a way of Silver when he was younger.

— Do you live here?

— Yes, along with a cat named Grim

With each answer that Malleus gave him he could see it. That boy seemed to have so much energy.

— I see. It's a pity, I liked to take night walks around here since it's very quiet. But I guess I'll have to look for another place.

— Seriously, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to take away your place to explore!

Yuu shouted while bowing in apology, that causes Malleus to become more curious about the human child.

— It's okay, it's not your fault that you live here. Well, I'll take my leave.

— Wait a moment.

But Malleus had disappeared in a bunch of bright lights.

— Wow, that’s amazing — Yuu said, catching one of those lights in his hands.

— I couldn’t ask him his name.

Malleus appeared in another part of the school. He felt a little dejected that his favorite place was occupied, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t get that kid out of the place. He looked up to see how high the moon was until he remembered.

— Now that I think about it. Lilia said that humans should sleep to have energy the next day, or they will have health problems. But that human child was awake at this time.

While, outside the dormitory, Yuu was practicing his NEN.

My Hunter x Hunter fever came back!

The first time I saw it I was very young, two or three years younger than the main characters, time has passed and now I'm older than them buuuu 😭.

Gon is my number one main character. With that personality that I met at the beginning of the anime it was love at first sight. I'm sure that if I met Malleus they would be great friends because you know. Gon being Gon.

This anime was my second Shonen and the only one I managed to stay faithful to until today. No matter the years, for me Hunter x Hunter will be the best anime.

YES YOU CAN TOGASHI!

This idea started with a fanfic of the boys' reaction to a Yuu from different worlds, including Hunter x Hunter. I liked it so much that when I wanted to read it again I realized that they had deleted the fanfic :'v that was found on Wattpad. To get that thorn out of my side I had decided to do this. I'm thinking about whether to make more parts or not. In case you noticed, I'm a person with a lot of ideas, but I never manage to finish a story.

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Second Chances

(Beetlejuice x Lydia Deetz)

Chapter 1

(Spoilers for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice ⚠️ Do not read if you haven’t seen the movie!)

Chapter 2:

Breakfast was quiet as Astrid and Lydia sat at the table both lost in thought about last night. Lydia was thinking about Betelgeuse and whether or not to contact him. Did he even want to see her? Probably not. She thought mindlessly stirring her cereal around in the bowl with her spoon.

Astrid on the other hand was wondering why her mother was near the attic at all. Was she just going up there to check on things like she said or was she actually going to see Betelgeuse. Why she wanted to she didn’t understand. If only her mother would tell her.

Astrid looked up at Lydia and noticed how far off she looked. Something was bothering her. She opened her mouth, hesitating for a moment to say anything.

“Mom?” She spoke.

Lydia looked up looking almost surprised at the sudden interaction. “Yes?”

“Why were you going up to the attic last night?” She asked, hoping she would give her an honest answer this time. There was a long pause as Lydia was trying to decide exactly how to respond.

“I don’t even know. I just couldn’t get him out of my head.” Lydia finally answered.

“Like he’s haunting you?” Astrid asked, sounding concerned.

“In a sense... it’s like I’m drawn to him. I want to talk to him.” Lydia said looking down at her bowl almost feeling ashamed for wanting to but she couldn’t help it.

Astrid stared at her for a moment trying to process what she had said. She couldn’t believe she would actually want to see him. “Could he be manipulating you somehow?”

She shook her head, no, in response.

“There is just something about him. I can’t explain it but it was different this time. He was different. The ways he helped us out…and even during the wedding he was in a weird, slightly creepy way, kind of sweet.” Lydia admitted.

There was a long pause.

“You must think I’m crazy right?” She murmured still not looking at Astrid.

“Well…I don’t get it but if that’s what you want to do, I support you.” Astrid told her, placing her hand over Lydia’s.

“Thank you.” She said letting out of sigh of relief, grateful her daughter understood.

“Hey if it were me swooning over some dead guy you’d support me too right?” Astrid remarked.

“I am not swooning!” Lydia exclaimed a faint blush forming on her cheeks.

“Sure, sure.” The teen smirked, rolling her eyes jokingly.

—————————

Betelgeuse walked about the tiny model cemetery which he did on occasion, playing over the almost wedding in his mind. He had it planned out so perfectly. He was sure Lydia wouldn’t be able to say no. He did everything Rory didn’t and it still wasn’t good enough. If only she’d give him a chance. Just one kiss and—

Suddenly, he heard the door creak open. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched as Lydia made her way over to the model town. Why was she here? He wondered.

Lydia took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do.

“Beetlejuice.”

The room suddenly became very cold and the drapes fluttered wildly even though the windows weren’t open.

“Beetlejuice.”

The attic became an eerie green color and smoke began to emanate from the model town before her.

“Beetlejuice.”

Then everything went dark and silent. She held her breath, waiting in anticipation.

“You called?” A gruff voice spoke from behind her making her jump in surprise.

“You really need to stop sneaking up on people.” Lydia snapped.

“Hey, it’s what I do.” Betelgeuse shrugged.

“So, what do you want now?” He said trying to sound more indifferent than he felt. Secretly he was glad that he could see her again. He wanted to be mad at her, but couldn’t.

“You.” Lydia answered simply. Betelgeuse looked down at her, stunned at her response. Did he hear he correctly?

He stuck his finger in his ear to clean it out, but instead of earwax he pulled out a little green bug. He flicked it across the room and turned back to Lydia. “Say that again?”

“I want you. Just you.” Lydia clarified.

“Wait? What? Really?!” He asked, perking up. She nodded and gave him a small smile.

Without warning, he pulled her into a hug and spun her around. “I knew you’d come around! You won’t regret it! I’ll-“ She pushed him away and placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

“I want to go slow.” She told him. “I won’t send you back, but you have to promise to behave.”

Betelgeuse nodded his head in agreement. “I’ll try, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up babe.”

“Beetlejuice!”

“Eeeee! Ok, ok! I’ll behave.” He exclaimed with a flinch.

“Good!” Lydia smiled, satisfied with herself and turned back towards the door, Betelgeuse following her.

“What about a little mischief? Maybe scaring the occasional Jehovah’s witness?” He asked hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Aww cmon, ya gotta work with me here! I can’t just quit cold turkey.” Betelgeuse insisted half jokingly.

“I’m serious. I’ll send you back.” Lydia assured him.

He let out a defeated sigh. “Ok, ok fine. I can do this…but only for you.” He said pointing towards her.

Lydia’s heart skipped a beat repeating what he said over in her mind. “Only for you.”

[missmarveledsblog]

It's only pretend right? ( Bucky barnes x reader) part two

summary : the morning the two get to the ranch only to discover the stay is longer than intended , Bucky meets her family some great and some honestly pissed him off , as if the seeing her judgemental family her ex was also there but still in all that she ignored it ready to show bucky they things that made her love coming home shitty extended family or not

warning: majority of this is fluffy some shitty people but bucky is there to keep her smiling

(previous part )

“ wakey wakey kiddo” Clint's voice boomed throughout the room sending her startled form out the bed. “ we’re leaving in 20 minutes. I was also informed to tell you that  Bucky will have food and coffee  on the jet” he chuckled seeing her on the floor glaring up at the man.

 “ gotta ask laura if she would enjoy the widow life , ” she grumbled heading towards the bathroom .

 “ nah she loves me too much and so do you ,  just not like how you love  bucky” he teased .

 “ Everybody knows I like bucky?”she came out a minute later.

 “ everyone but bucky , enhanced sense my ass” he muttered. 

“ it’s 5 am even steve knows to not wake me up so early bird man what is your deal ” she whined looking at the phone. 

“ Get dressed, you can sleep on the jet” he called, pushing her back to the bathroom with the clothes the girls were so kind to pick out for her the night before.

“ when did you become so bossy?” she growled 

 “ Oh shut up , get dressed,” he chuckled . 

“ told you she doesn’t like to be woken up , she didn’t stab you either that good” nat assessed. 

“ she didn’t get a chance” he winked.

 “ Nat Your MALE best friend is going to be visiting the bermuda triangle so say bye bye” she walked out rubbing her  eyes and yawning before shooting the man with another glare.

 “ Nice knowing you barton , you grumpy sit down” she saluted the man before taking the hair brush in her hand. She sat as nat tackled the bird nest that was her bed head eyes dropping slightly  .

 “ Ten more minutes” she mumbled before Clint lifted her up, making her yelp before walking out the room and down the hallway , Nat following after.

 “Are you excited to see your family kid?… Y/n … is she .. she’s asleep” he turned to see nat standing trying to suppress her laughter as the woman on his shoulders let out soft snores .

 “ oh this little shit”he grumbled heading out to the jet . 

“ hey doll” bucky smirked seeing  clint carrying her onto the jet. 

“She’s still asleep” he grunted, placing her down on the chair as she stirred , waking up again. 

“ Here's some coffee doll,” the man smiled .

 “ hey thank you bucky , good morning” she beamed before taking a generous gulp. “ Where was my goodmorning “ Clint looked to her, arms crossed.

“ back in the room when you scared it out of me” she took the tupperware filled with food.

 “ Just friends my ass” he turned, seeing the two filled with adoration for each other . 

The trip wasn’t long enough when Clint landed the jet near her family's ranch before rushing them out .

 “ Enjoy , have fun  and I'll collect you guys in two weeks” he called a mischievous smirk as the two spun around.

 “ Did  he just say two weeks?” she asked.

 “ he did and apparently we weren’t told” he held up the phone to see the team texting them to enjoy the time off.

 “ I mean I have Stark's black card so the second week doesn’t have to be here” she held the black plastic up and a devious smirk on her face.

 “  I mean I could use a vacation” he chuckled, both turning to see her mother and father coming out smiles painted on their faces as they walked up the drive. 

“ Natasha just told me we have you both for two weeks isn’t that exciting,” her mother cooed.

 “ she is not getting that prada bag.. Hey mama , pops where is everyone” she smiled softly hugging them. 

“ Nice to see you sir , ma'am,” bucky smiled, shaking their hands.

 “ Son, call me frank” her father pulled him into a hug . 

“ and me beth , your aunt owes me fifty  for this” she giggled, hugging  her then him . “So good to see you both  but i must say seeing her smile this hour of the morning is strange, you must have the touch mr barnes” her father chuckled. 

“ Please call me Bucky or James, please both of you and I didn't wake her. It is my secret” he laughed.

 “ I aint that bad” she grumbled. 

“ doll loki is afraid to go near your room in the morning and i think Clint learned his lesson” he nudged her softly.

 “ he’s not wrong , i mean you nearly stabbed jack” her mother nodded.

 “ Well my dumbass brother shouldn’t have worn a mask” she rolled her eyes.  

“ Speaking of Jack , he  and Helen and Izzy and Maya are staying at a hotel along with the rest of the family.”  her mother smiled as she and her father cheered.

 “ oh give it up to you two , grandma is still staying here” her mother rolled her eyes. `` which one?” she whispered to her dad while Bucky smiled at the close bond the two seem to share. 

“ Her mother ,  so the evil one” her dad winced. 

“ Bucky ..baby you’re catholic right? '' she asked .  

“ I mean I was back in the 40s” He almost melted at the pet name. 

 “ She's going bingo Thursday  so Izzy will propose to Maya then  it will be just us as a family rest will be out ” her mother sadly smiled.

 “ Why do we have to entertain these assholes?” Y/N asked.

 “ Because they are still family, '' her mother shot back . 

“ Well they don’t treat us like that,” she shook her head.

 “ it's not even for the full week we can do it kitty” her dad wrapped his arm around her as they approached the house. “ your mama set your room up for both of you so bring your bags up and join us for breakfast” he smiled as she froze turning to her friend.

 “ Sorry I didn’t think we’d have to share a room for a week, nevermind two” she winced. 

“ it’s ok we bunked together on a mission and sleepover in the compound” he brushed it off pretending his prayers weren’t just answered and frankly he thought his acting skills were Oscar worthy at that moment .

 “ ok we can do this” she nodded before taking his hand in hers . 

“ Show me the way, little cowgirl” he winked, making her burst into laughter.

Thankfully the rest of the morning was quiet once they finished breakfast ,she helped her mom with preparing lunch while Bucky offered to help her father with some of the chores on the ranch. 

“ My , my a  little kitty has gotten into the kitchen” she heard the voice before she felt him lift her up swinging her in a bruising hug.

 “ Jack in the box” she laughed excitedly. 

“ Where is this fella who thinks he’s good enough for my little sister?” he puffed his chest and stood a little taller.

 “Behind you” her father chuckled as the two walked into the kitchen .

 “ holy shit that’s sergeant james barnes' ' her brother's tough guy act fell instantly.

 “ aww shit i owe mama 50” her sister izzy pushed past the men before hugging her sister tightly. 

“  Who else owes you money?” She turned to her mother. 

“ A couple of your uncles and aunts,” she shrugged, heading back to the food. 

“ So where are my future sister in laws?” she asked quietly. 

“ how good at you with controlling that little gift of yours” jack stood back shooting izzy a worried glance. 

“ Why are you asking?” she crossed her arms as the man gulped. 

“They’re outside with Eli. '' Izzy called  hiding  behind jack.

 '' as in the cheating ,  dick of an ex left me alone in a big city alone , that eli '' she felt the heat on her finger tips til a sudden coldness snapped her back to reality  .

 “ I got you, '' Bucky whispered in that voice, instantly melting the annoyance.

 “ fuck please never leave” izzy patted the man on the back 

.” yeah took us forever to grow out our  eyebrows last time  , he’s my best friend and helen's brother” he smiled sadly to his sister . 

“ KITTY” her head whipped to see the two women pulling her to their arms. 

 “ good to see you Y/N” his voice had the hair on her body standing like bucky could sense it pulling her to him and wrapping his arm around her waist tightly.

 “ See my sister the avenger pulled sergeant james barnes” Jack smiled brightly.

 “ Please, it’s bucky” he waved to them .

 “I'm a big fan, Bucky,” Eli smiled.

 “ Mr. Barnes to you son” he turned, ignoring the outstretched hand pulling the knife out of his back pocket . " i forget i had this , hey beth why do i help you with lunch my knife skills are almost criminal " he smirked seeing the man pale .  

“ I like this one,” her father beamed.  

“ Me too” Helen chuckled before shooting her own brother a glare. 

.................

“ So how did y’all meet?” Eli asked, taking his seat across , most of the family arriving. 

“ work dummy” Helen rolled her eyes. 

“ oh yeah your mom told us you took to being an avenger , what are you the secretary? '' her uncle joked.

 “ No, she is part of the team , she beast on a mission.. But always safe, super cautious "Bucky spoke up ,then he added seeing the worry on her parents' faces . 

“ I mean she's always been a spitfire,” Jack chuckled.

 “ yeah she beat up those boys that picked on you when we were kids” izzy high fived her little sister.

 “ You allow her to do that,” another uncle scoffed. 

“ I don't own her so she’s free to do what she wants ma’am” bucky laughed thinking it was a joke but from her expression , he wondered what else she hid from the team when it came to her own family.

 “ We thought it was made up, “ her aunt laughed as her shoulder tense. 

“ Is  your son  out of rehab yet oh sorry i wasn’t supposed to say that was i? is he out of that college for drugs ” her father asked as she and her sibling hide the giggles. 

“Hey bucky wanna see my horse? '' she asked, feeling the man's jaw clench and tension build throughout the table .

 “ Sure doll” he smiled softly when his eyes set on her . Almost pulling him out the door as they all watched judging like always . she barely got out the door before he pulled her to a halt .

 “ ok what the hell was that” he asked with an almost sad tone in his voice. 

“ I may be the black sheep of a judgmental as hell family. I know I should've warned you,” she let out a sigh, wringing her hands.

 " Is this why you don’t visit home much?” he asked softly.

 “ You cracked that code huh?, i mean even if she can be bitchy i still write to my grandma and my folks visit and i ring siblings regularly but the rest i avoid because i’m never good enough and I thought maybe with a boyfriend and great job would help nope” she sighed. 

“ How long are they staying for?” he asked, wrapping his arms around as she melted in his embrace. 

“ They leave in a couple of days which is too long” her father's voice rang out. “ you ok kitty?” he asked softly.

 “ I'm fine papa , we're going to bring bucky on my trail ” she smiled sadly. 

“ What is this kitty I keep hearing?” Bucky asked, smiling as her cheeks heated. 

“ oh she ain’t told you that one yet , ” her father chuckled . “ After the madness i’ll tell you “ he added before walking into the house.

 “ Let's go see these horses” she rushed off before he could ask her more.

 “ Oh no back here doll face ” he chuckled, chasing after her as her father watched from the front door with a smile so wide he couldn’t remember the last time he saw it so free on her face not a force one as she took the battering of their words  . 

“ he's a bit old for her, no? '' her fathers eyes rolled walking in they barely waited til she was out the door before the nit picking started . 

 '' yeah isn’t he like a hundred or something” eli added.

 “ he was frozen doesn’t count” her brother shook his head 

“ he makes her smile i don’t care if he is a thousand years old” her father almost snapped at the guest at the table. 

“ That job is so unsafe, people are gonna know she one of those thing ” her aunt shook her head. 

“Well ain't we lucky you ain’t doing it , she could be a lunch lady and you’d find a problem in it and ain't nothing wrong with her ” he looked at the woman .

 “What is your problem with Y/N? least she not a junkie or a dim witted whore like your kids '' izzy asked hating how it was alway y/n they would attack or show disgust at . 

'' You know what our problem is? She’s not even … ''. 

“ everybody stop yelling and eat your food” the elderly woman yelled, instantly shutting them up, eyeing the sneaking touches from her eldest granddaughter before the two went to eat their food. “ Sorry mama” and “ grandmama” were uttered around the table as the woman looked out the window  at her granddaughter running around smiling . “ she is very happy” she murmured as the rest ignored her words, bragging about their fake lives .

 

“ Here bucky bear is star , she is the best horse in the state nah in the whole of the US although i might be biased”she winked as she patted the mare’s side. 

“ she is a pretty one, star nice name ,it's cute ” he mused but  a black mane caught his eyes . “ Who's this?” he asked, walking toward the one across. 

“ Oh moon,  he's the new one , my pops rescued him , the previous owner said he ain’t nothing good but my dad sees the best in everything i think i get that from him” she smiled . 

“ he seems ok to me” he patted the horse .

 “ he’s misunderstood like someone i know” she mused only for the horse to kick the stall . “ You must be fed up there huh buddy” she mused.“ What do you say bucket wanna  see my childhood being little cowgirl and all that ” she walked towards the saddles.

 “ Lead the way doll” he smiled as she handed it to him but the minute the stall opened the jet black stallion made its way toward the almost stark white mare's head rubbing hers.

 “ oh you dirty dog come kicking a fuss for the ladies huh ? ” she chuckled pulling them apart as she led star out both getting them ready before she hopped up with ease.  

“ you make that too easy” he chuckled before not so gracefully getting on the stallion before she took head.  Bought passing the window as her father and brother almost fell over each other seeing bucky easily walk by . 

“ catch me if you can” she giggled before taking off down the trail as his horse followed  after .

  “ Hey, this guy is doing the work” he called.

 “ That's because I think he is  in love” she giggled, enjoying the feeling of the wind in her hair , taking full advantage given she didn’t get to do stuff like this back in the compound. 

“ he’s not the only one” he sighed following after her. Watching her so free and smiling wider wondering if he could get tony to get something like this on the compound just to see her look like that more often .

[t3a-tan]

Pursuit of Gnosis (1/?)

No, not that one Scaramouche-

Here's what I wrote for Ryker's birthday! I will probably write a second part, possibly more, we'll see. G/t interactions appear pretty late into this, but I hope you enjoy ^^ Let me know what you think!

---

“Órale, my Zorrito is all grown up! Come here mi vida, I need a kiss before you go…”

Ryker held back a groan as his mother pulled his face down to her level and began to pepper him with affection.

“Mama, I'm not a child anymore—” He protested, though he couldn't help that a chuckle escaped his lips. Even now, when he was standing at the precipice of discovery, going out into the world to take his research even further, she still insisted on treating him like he was a baby.

Once he was allowed his face back he cleared his throat to get rid of the embarrassment that was starting to heat his cheeks, instead throwing on his jacket and picking up his bag. Most of his belongings were already packed and being sent to his new home beyond the walls of Nirgend.

“Will you be okay out there on your own without your mama, eh?” She asked warmly as she fussed with the buttons on his jacket, doing it up and flattening any wrinkles down. Ryker smiled reassuringly when she looked up and met his gaze.

“Of course, mama. I'll be fine, and I will come back to visit. A palabra.” He promised.

“Ah! Vaya, mi vida… I just remembered, I found your old journals in a box under your bed. I know the carriage ride will be long, so I thought you might like to take them with you— to flick through. They're just collecting dust here after all.” She turned and picked up another bag with some difficulty, and Ryker was quick to bend down and take it from her.

“Careful with your back…” He scolded lightly, before glancing down at the bag of books he was now carrying. I have to admit, it would be interesting to read through… I probably have some old theories in here too. He looked at his mother again and leaned down, kissing her on either cheek. “Thank you, mama.”

He waved to her as the carriage left; his bags now settled beside him rather than weighing him down. He blew a kiss, smiling as she caught it and placed that hand on her cheek, blowing her own kiss back. He mimicked the gesture and waved again before sitting back on the carriage bench with a sigh.

His gaze was drawn to the bag of journals again. She's right…it will be a long while before reaching my destination. I may as well start now. Reaching down into the bag, he felt around for a few moments, searching for the first one. Just how many are in here?

Keeping journals was something he started when he was young, and now he made sure to write something down every day that he could. His more recent journals had already been moved over to his new home, and it hadn't even occurred to him to bring his older ones as he didn't even know where they were.

Until now.

He pulled out a scrappy looking journal that had some scribbles on the front. Ryker chuckled to himself, recalling the moment that Ines found his journal and drew pictures all over the cover. He had been mortified when he found that out, making sure to hide his journals much better from them on to prevent anyone else from reading it, despite her assuring him that she hadn't looked inside.

Turning to the first page, Ryker started to read.

.

.

.

- - -

Journal 1, Entry 001.

- - -

Hello! My name is Zorro.

I turned thirteen years old today, and my mama gave me this journal as a gift! I got some other cool presents too, like the pencil I'm writing with and a cupcake for later.

She said this journal was made by people on the outside. One day, I would like to go outside the walls and see the big cities. I heard they're as big as a whole country!

I'm gonna be a famous scientist someday, and then the Sovereign will have to let us all out. Mama can have a nice house in a forest like she's always wanted, and I'll get myself a pet gryphon and fly wherever I want.

- - -

Journal 1, Entry 062.

- - -

I read in the paper that Queen Seraphina will be ascending today. Mama is excited, but I can't help but notice that the next in line is very young to assume such responsibilities.

Seraphina has been Queen since even before my mama was born. Opa said that he was twelve when she took the crown.

I know she isn't our queen, Anderna do not have our own ruler because we live under the Sovereign of Gahenn, but I know she is nice. When mama was little, Seraphina greeted our kind from outside the gates. Mama said she even waved at her.

I wonder what it would be like to fly like the angels do. I know that shifting is against the Sovereign’s law, but sometimes I wish I could just to see what it would be like.

We have a new neighbour on the floor above us. Mama said there's a girl my age, and she invited the new family over for dinner. I hope we can be friends.

- - -

Journal 7, Entry 011.

- - -

I managed to finish with the top grades in my classes when it comes to sciences, literature, and mathematics. I've already started searching for further education so I can focus on magic research. Ines has been helping me apply for things.

She is going to be an artist. Although I am not usually one for the arts, I have to admit that her paintings are very beautiful. Though, I prefer she doesn't paint near my work, due to the many times she has ended up spilling paint on the papers.

Although I feel a bit anxious about moving out, I know I cannot stay living with mama forever, as much as she claims she wouldn't mind. I will make sure to visit— not that it's difficult in this city.

- - -

.

.

.

“Dr. Ryker?”

“Hm?” He hummed, not even looking up from the entry he was reading when he heard his name being spoken. It has been hours since the carriage had first set off, but Ryker had hardly noticed; too focused on reading.

“Do you need help with getting your bags on the boat, sir?”

Now that got his attention. He realised that the carriage was now stationary…and that his stomach was beginning to complain from a lack of food.

“Ah. No, that's alright. Just a moment…” He held out a hand placatingly before starting to put the journals he had read through back into the bag. Once everything was secure he picked his luggage up, bending down to get through the door and step out of the carriage.

At this point the sight of the carriage driver's nervous expression no longer fazed him; he knew that the rest of Gahenn was still prejudiced towards Anderna, and he was just appreciative that they weren't being combative. Many people had already taken issue with an Anderna moving into their country.

He had stopped listening to the news for that reason, growing tired of how often they liked to complain about his kind as if they were a plague spreading throughout the land rather than him being a scientist seeking to better the lives of everyone. It was the new hot topic that everyone seemed to have an opinion about.

“Thank you for the ride.” Ryker nodded his head towards the driver in appreciation, receiving a hesitant nod in response. He watched silently as the carriage headed off, turning and going back in the direction it had come from. Once he could no longer hear the hooves trotting against the dirt road he turned, walking to the dock and boarding the boat.

It would still be another day or two before he would reach his destination, so upon reaching his room and having himself a meal, he started to read through his journal entries again.

.

.

.

- - -

Journal 12, Entry 201.

- - -

It's so refreshing to work alongside people as passionate as I am about the potential sciences behind magic. Some more so than others, but regardless I enjoy it greatly.

Although we have made no discoveries that would change the way our world views magic entirely, I feel that we are close. I cannot sleep some nights because I just want to write hypothesis after hypothesis, and then I become too excited over actually testing these hypotheses to rest. Ines always scolds me for it.

Souls are still something that we don't fully grasp. They are difficult to observe and any papers made on them offer very little or very inconclusive data on how souls work. Souls are linked to magic but how exactly they are linked and why some races can perform certain kinds of magic whilst others can't is still a mystery.

I think too many people are looking at it through a theological perspective, thinking about why the gods gave certain races souls with high magic capabilities, and others ones with low capabilities. I personally believe that a biological approach would be best, as much as my peers disagree.

Because of the fact that Anderna cannot travel outside of Nirgend, our access to research is limited. Although this is a frustrating setback, I know that the Sovereign's law cannot be changed without some convincing. Once I make a breakthrough and show the world outside that Anderna are not to be feared, I hope that everyone will be able to go wherever they please.

Tonight I'll be going out for drinks with my coworkers, and no doubt I'll be looking after them all since it seems none of them have gotten past their university phase when it comes to pacing themselves. It will be fun anyway since Ines agreed to come along. At least I won't be mostly sober alone.

- - -

Journal 17, Entry 046.

- - -

I've made a breakthrough.

We have been looking at things all wrong— magic isn't something that is created; it is ever-present, like oxygen in the air. Souls are just the conduit for activating the magic that's already around us— and genetics play a key role in determining what the output is.

I need to observe this phenomenon further before taking it anywhere. Once I have a more solid hypothesis I will bring it to the others’ attention. Magic researchers tend more towards theology than biology and I don't want my own discoveries to be muddied by this factor.

Perhaps a new department may even be created? A new field of research entirely? I could be at the forefront of history, leading not just the Anderna but all of Gahenn to a new realm of scientific understanding!

A great woman once said that, “Scientific discovery is not the unveiling of truth, but the relentless pursuit of understanding—each answer leading to new, uncharted questions.” - Syl Sheridan.

I can only dream of the paths and questions that will follow.

Ines is just as excited as me about it. I really love her. Maybe one of these days I ought to tell her as much.

I've heard some things on the radio that there are tensions between the Sovereign and Queen Mary. Ines seems to be getting a lot about it, but I don't know much. Politics were never an interest of mine, but I theorise that it's not much to worry about. The news is likely blowing things way out of proportion for shock value.

- - -

.

.

.

Finishing the last entry, Ryker let out a sigh of relief. It had taken much longer than he thought it would; his entries later on had become much longer winded and in depth, but it still felt nice to get back into the headspace of a younger him. Now he was thirty-two, and had much more responsibility on his shoulders.

His research and findings on magic had gained him great fame and reputation all over Gahenn, and he had even heard rumours that Syris was taking an interest in his research too. When he was a young boy with ambitions to be a famous scientist, there was a time in his life that he felt it was just a pipe dream…

And yet, now he was outside of the walls, exploring the world and taking on new ventures with the same ambition he had all those years ago. Sure, Anderna were still not allowed outside of Nirgend, with him being the only exception, but he hoped that would change with time. If he lived well and did good, people would understand that his kind were not to be feared.

He arrived at his new home; a large house that was in the middle of nowhere. It was an hour journey to get from his house to the city by carriage, but he didn't mind. Most of his research involved field work, and once he developed a hypothesis and gathered material that was when he actually needed a lab.

It took only a few days to unpack everything; mostly books. The furniture had already been set up beforehand by the same people who brought the rest of the boxes. As soon as he was finished unpacking he hastily grabbed a bag, a notebook and pencil, as well as some equipment to collect samples and readings, before heading out of his front door.

He requested to be placed in this particular area for one main reason; Gortoa. It was a mere twenty minute walk away from his doors, and that fact made him giddy with excitement. He had always wanted to do a more in depth analysis on the magical phenomena within the ancient forest, so having it so close was convenient.

Ryker could hardly contain his excitement, keeping his pace at a slight jog just to get there faster. The main thing he was hoping to find were wisps; he had many theories about what they were, and if he was right then it may be the most accurate way to study souls because they could be observed more easily.

He entered the forest, marvelling at the sight surrounding him.

The ancient forest was flourishing and bursting with life. The grass was soft, wildflowers and clovers dotted all across the forest floor, as trees as tall as tens of metres tall towered overhead. The canopy of golden leaves was so thick that it allowed almost no sunlight through— and yet the forest was illuminated by glowing moss hanging onto the trunks of the trees.

The gentle sound of a babbling brook could be heard in the distance, alongside the singing and chirping of birds flying high above his head. It was truly breathtaking. Now I understand why Ines wants to paint here so badly.

The sight of a faint blue glowing flower in the distance caught his attention and he hurried over to the water, eyes widening. Is that…?

Kneeling down beside the gorgeous iridescent flower, he reached down and let his fingers brush against the delicate petals, feeling the magic contained within.

“A mage lily… this is incredible.” They were rare flowers that were sought after not only for their beauty, but also for the astonishing amount of energy stored inside. If I bring it with me I will be able to use the magic stored inside to test ways to artificially activate it!

His clawed fingers delicately grasped the stem as he prepared to pick the lily, only for a shout from below to stop him in his tracks.

“Stop!”

He jolted back, eyes snapping open in shock as he heard the flower seemingly protest his actions.

“Oh my gods. Did the mage lily just speak..?” He gasped in surprise, leaning down and peeing at the flower more closely with growing interest. If the lily was sentient, did that mean magic could bring things to life? Could plants really have souls? How was it capable of speaking anyway??

His breath hitched as he saw a tiny figure step out from under the petals of the lily, with pale almost blueish skin and petals rather than hair. She looked kind of like a mage lily, if it grew legs and came to life. Ryker's mouth was agape as he stared down at the little person, his fingers twitching with the desire to pick them up.

What are they? A pixie? No…pixies haven't been seen for centuries now. And this…thing, doesn't have wings. His mind raced with question after question, a desire to know more filling him and making it almost impossible to think clearly. Just as he was resolving himself to pick up the tiny figure, she spoke again.

“Hello…” Her voice was smooth and serene, like the water surrounding the lily pad she was stood upon. Her weight seemed practically non-existent, or at the very least not enough for the lily pad to register it. Despite Ryker's temptation to grab her he refrained as he met her teal gaze, recognising her personhood. There was a soul in that gaze.

“What are you?” He blurted out the question before really registering her greeting, eyes shining with intrigue as he let his hands rest against the grass again instead of hovering so menacingly close to the tiny being. If he kept them like that he was sure he would have given into temptation sooner or later.

“U-um…” She edged a little closer to the water before looking up at him again and responding. “My name is Suiren.”

Ryker frowned slightly.

“I am Zorro. Although most call me by my last name, Ryker.” He introduced himself, placing a hand against his chest sincerely before humming. “But that didn't answer my question. I asked what you are, not who.”

There was a beat of silence between them, with him waiting intently for an answer and Suiren hesitant to give one. She sat down on the edge of the lily pad, letting her legs hang in the water. He watched with great interest as the legs that went into the water seemed to become part of it, completely invisible.

“Don't pick the mage lilies… the magic inside them just ends up spilling out and it can disrupt the balance of magic in this part of the forest.” She explained, still avoiding the question, and now avoiding his gaze too.

“...I see. Well I won't pick it then.” Ryker assured, as much as it disappointed him. He didn't want to be too hasty and end up ruining his research in the process. He could find another magic source so long as he was patient.

Wait a minute…

“Ah— wait. How would you know that it disrupts the balance of magic? And what exactly do you mean by that?” He was no longer interested in the flower at all, more fascinated over the tiny being who seemed to have a deeper knowledge of magic. It was doubtful that she was a scientist like himself, so he needed to know why.

As he leaned down closer, his face now hovering right above the tiny figure he bristled when she suddenly fell into the water.

“Wait!” He attempted to make a grab at the tiny flower person, not wanting them to get away before he could get his questions answered, but his hands grasped nothing but water. How did..?

Ryker's lips pursed together in disappointment, brows furrowing as he watched the ripples from his hands eventually steady once more. Just like her legs before, it seemed her whole body could become invisible in the water…or maybe she became the water? Whatever it was, he desperately wanted to know more.

I don't think she'll come back…not at the moment at least. I'll see if I can find any information about what she might be later, but for now I should continue to look for wisps.

He sighed and stood up, looking down at his warped reflection in the water and straightening his jacket once he realised the collar had popped up. He took out his notebook and scribbled down as many notes about the tiny being's appearance as he could before snapping the book closed again and shoving it into his bag. Stepping away from the water's edge, he resumed his search.

He didn't notice the teal eyes peeking out of the water and watching him leave.

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 124]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55

I have been sick as a dog since I last worked on this story. I'm not even doing any work today lol. I just want to get this chapter finished. Will probably do a couple rounds and then cook myself dinner, so there may be a gap at some point. Mostly I'll just be, like, reading when not posting. Wish me luck.

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there, or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs. So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had gone so far as to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently extract himself from the droves of cats. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet, and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to them, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way. Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

Thomas still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to the cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”

“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.

The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.

“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.

“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.

Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.

The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).

“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.

Everyone else seemed to have finished eating long before Virgil, though Patton still had a small plate of grapes, and he occasionally popped one in his mouth. King Thomas was currently setting up the board game they’d brought on the blanket between all of them.

Virgil shrugged in answer to his question. “It’s good,” he said, “and I don’t want to waste any of it.”

“You know we can just take the leftovers back to the castle and eat them later,” King Thomas said. “You don’t have to eat it all now.”

Virgil just shrugged again, watching as the king set out a group of 8 figures on the board.

“Here, which character do you want to be?” the king asked Virgil, gesturing at the group of figures. Virgil had not noticed the figures were different at first glance. They were all copper colored and about the size of his thumb, but they had slightly different shapes. He squinted at them each carefully, finding they all looked like people, but with different clothing. Some worse pants and some skirts, a few had hats, and one was even carrying a book.

After a few moments, he pointed at one that looked like it had vines wrapped around its arms and was wearing a floppy hat that almost covered its eyes.

“That’s the druid,” King Thomas told him with a grin. “Good choice, and luckily not one that anyone usually fights over.” He glanced at Logan who didn’t react to his father’s gaze. He just plucked the figure clutching the book off the board for himself.

Patton and the king picked pieces for themselves. Patton picked one with an apron that kind of reminded Virgil of his mom and the king picked one that was in a suit of armor before putting the other 4 figures away.

Unlike checkers, this game wasn’t just for two people, and so no one had to sit watching people play while bored out of their mind.

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They played a practice round so Virgil could figure out how the game worked, though honestly it wasn’t that complicated, so it wasn’t really necessary.

The theme of the game was all about stealing. They were supposed to steal special tokens from other players as well as characters in the game and the first person with 20 tokens won.

The other three players argued that stealing was not the point and not the main mechanism of the game, but considering Virgil was consistently winning the entire time, he would argue they were just playing it wrong. He managed to collect 20 tokens before anyone else. In second place at this time was Logan with 9 tokens.

Logan insisted on continuing to play the game to determine 2nd and 3rd place, so Virgil ended up watching them play for a bit. Virgil didn’t mind sitting and watching other people play this game, mostly because he still had the joy of victory running in his veins.

Thomas was definitely going to lose, he noted. He kept wasting his money feeding the nonplayer characters who lived on his lands. Virgil didn’t mention this faulty strategy to him in case Virgil ever played him again.

When Logan took too long thinking about his next move, Virgil took in their surroundings.

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He’d been a bit too distracted by the prospect of food and then trying to understand (and then win) the game to truly take in The Cliffs. They were settled a good distance away from the cliffside but Virgil could still see how quickly the edge dropped off. He couldn’t see the large river he was told was at its base from where he was sitting, but he did see a few of the promised wild birds (including doves) flying around. The king had promised they’d bird watch for a bit, and Virgil figured that would happen after the game was over.

A cool spring breeze brushed across Virgil’s face, and he put his hand in his hoodie pockets to warm them. Instead, his fingers hit something icy cold.

For a moment, he didn’t remember what it was. The crescent shape of it was familiar when he put his hand over it, but he had never felt it cold before.

It was the protection charm: the first charm Virgil had ever made with Logan so many months ago. It was meant to ward off small threats as well as warn you about larger threats by changing temperature…

It had always been warm.

“What?” Patton asked, having noticed Virgil suddenly tense. Virgil, despite how he drilled into his friend’s heads to stay alert had gone soft. He’d let himself be distracted by a full belly and warm blankets and fun games.

He didn’t answer Patton. He filtered the other boy’s worried face out as well as Logan’s face as he glanced at him and the king’s still focused on the game for now. He filtered out the picnic blanket and smell of food still lingering in the air and the vine covered figure set in the middle of the board on the winner’s space. He filtered out the sound of the breeze and the breath of his companions and the distant chirping of birds.

And he heard a whoosh.

Chapter 58 (Patton)

If Patton hadn’t already been looking, he probably wouldn’t have had any idea what happened.

Everything had been fine. Virgil had been sitting cross legged, idly watching the conclusion of the game they’d been playing when his posture had suddenly changed. Patton had looked over at him only to see an expression on his face he didn’t recognize, but it didn’t seem good.

“What?” Patton had asked, but the question didn’t seem to register to Virgil.

Logan had glanced up confused and also noticed Virgil’s face. He’d just opened his mouth to also ask what was going on when chaos descended.

Virgil was suddenly moving, crashing into King Thomas who hadn’t even looked up to see something was wrong at that point. Patton realized after the fact that Virgil had swiped up the board of the game they’d been playing as he jumped over it, the pieces previously stacked on it scattering all over the blanket. There were three thumps as some things hit the thick board, imbedding themselves into the surface.

When Virgil discarded the board in favor of the picnic basket, Patton saw there were small darts in it oozing a dark black liquid. The parts of the board they touched were dissolving, the grass under the new holes beginning to wilt rapidly.

Logan seemed to notice the oozing liquid the same moment Patton did and was quicker to realize what it was. He grabbed Patton’s arm and yanked him away from the board so hard he almost dislocated Patton’s shoulder, not that Patton was too worried about that. He scrambled away from it when he realized what it must be himself.

He could hear the sound of glassware smashing above them. Logan and Patton had rolled off the blanket in their quest to get away from the smoldering, melting board and apparently Virgil had pulled the picnic blanket fully over the king at some point.

Virgil himself was now gone from where he’d been the last time Patton had looked and it took him a moment to figure out where the boy had gone. The person who had been shooting poisoned darts at them had been drawn out of the wooded area they’d been hiding in by Virgil’s attacks.

They were cloaked in dark green from head to toe, explaining why they’d been difficult to spot when they were in the woods. Whoever they were, they were significantly larger than Virgil, possibly an actual adult or almost adult assassin, but they were also clearly a long distant fighter. They had not been expecting resistance let alone resistance in the form of a so quick he was almost a blur fellow assassin.

They had a bow strapped to their back, but they hadn’t had a chance to get it. Instead, they were trying to fight Virgil off with an arrow they’d managed to draw from their quiver. Virgil, meanwhile was lunging at them with a broken piece of plate in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.

Virgil dodged out of the way of the arrow striking towards his arm, though Patton didn’t think it was because he was afraid of getting scratched by an arrow, but because it may also be poisoned tipped.

Virgil was distracted by dodging for long enough that the older assassin managed to hit him in the face with the arm not holding the arrow.

He went down, but he took the older assassin with him, sweeping their legs out from under them. Patton hadn’t noticed (his mind working too slow for how fast they were moving) but they were on a slight incline. They went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs towards the edge of the cliff and skidded to a stop only a few feet away.

Virgil ended up on top, his piece of broken plate in his hands. He moved to slash it across the other assassin’s throat and managed to draw blood, but the assassin’s fist came out to shove at Virgil’s chest at just the right moment, causing the strike to veer off course and slice across the assassin’s cheek instead.

Virgil jerked to the side to avoid a second strike to the chest and went back for another slash. The other assassin rolled to the side as he did and the plate only managed to nick their ear. The point of the motion hadn’t been to dodge, however. They were lunging for the arrow they’d dropped a few feet away while they’d rolled. They grabbed it with their right hand and in the same motion stabbed back behind them towards Virgil.

Virgil rolled to avoid the hit, already slashing up with his plate as the assassin turned back towards him.

87295

He didn’t hit them this time but his swipe managed to stop them from stabbing him when they tried again. They shoved themselves back to avoid Virgil’s swing, putting a bit of distance between them. Both of them managed to make it to their feet during the momentary reprieve, but both also stayed crouched, eyeing each other.

They both lunged towards each other at the same time. The assassin went for a stab to Virgil’s neck with the arrow, but Virgil was already ducking down. This time, he wasn’t going for a kill shot. He grabbed the assassin’s wrist and at the same time drove his piece of plate into the assassin’s arm, slicing down from the elbow to wrist. The assassin spoke for the first time, cursing in a language Patton didn’t recognize as they were forced to drop their arrow.

Virgil took a moment to kick the arrow away from the assassin and it ended up falling off the cliff.

However, this pause gave the assassin enough time to regroup. Despite their arm bleeding profusely, they still decided to use it to backhand Virgil across the face viciously, leaving a long line of their own blood across his face.

Virgil lunged back forward, but the assassin was able to get a leg between them, kicking Virgil squarely in the chest and sending him flying back a few feet parallel to the cliff’s edge.

The assassin went to grab their bow and another arrow from the quiver still strapped to their shoulder.

Virgil, however, apparently went for another weapon too and he was much faster with a knife than any archer. A knife appeared in his hand, having been strapped to his ankle and was embedded into the assassin’s chest before they could even full remove an arrow from their quiver.

The assassin promptly burst into flames, fire catching their clothes (and from the smell of it their skin) ablaze. Panicked and dying, they stumbled two steps to the side. They stepped directly off the cliff.

There was a second of silence. They heard the sound of the body hitting the ground far below and then the flap of wings and screeching as birds below fled from the startling sound (and possible soon to be forest fire).

…

“Uh, Virgil?” King Thomas said. He had managed to get the blanket off his head at some point. When, Patton didn’t know, but seeing any of it was probably enough.

Oopsie.

Chapter 59 (Logan)

Logan and Patton had been useless during the fight, but that may have been for the best. Considering the skill differential when it came to fighting (and that differential had never been as clear as it was in this moment), that was probably for the best. They likely would have just gotten in the way.

The moment Logan’s father spoke, however, they both jumped into action.

They both knew their jobs in a situation like this. Patton pushed himself up to his feet ungracefully and all but sprinted over towards Virgil. Logan, on the other hand stood to face his father, putting himself very purposefully between the man who had no idea what was going on yet and the boy who was two seconds away from remembering what was going on.

“I can explain,” Logan said.

His father was still sitting on the ground. “You can explain,” he said slowly, “how Virgil just threw an assassin off a cliff.”

Logan thought pointing out that Virgil hadn’t thrown anyone off a cliff and instead had set them on fire with a magical knife causing them to walk off a cliff, would not be useful in this moment. He glanced back briefly towards where Virgil and Patton were standing and then turned back to his father. “Yes.”

“And what would that explanation be?”

Before even starting to speak, Logan found himself making large dramatic ‘explaining hand gestures’ that he’d thought he’d long since trained himself out of. When he was younger and in trouble, he always used to give himself away as guilty by being overly expressive with his hands (and arms).

“So,” Logan said. He was still not able to stop the hand motions. “Virgil was an assassin. He came here to kill you last fall, but he accidently went to the wrong room in the royal wing. Patton and I were having a slumber party and caught him in the act. Then we reformed him and now he doesn’t kill people anymore.” He paused and glanced back, remembering the body that had just toppled off the cliff. “Er, uh, he doesn’t kill people who haven’t shot poisoned darts at people recently anymore?”

“What?”

“Look,” Logan said. “You’re going to have to tell him you’re not going to execute him soon. Patton can only keep him from bolting for so long.”

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"What's my hidden perk?"

Preview: The LADS boys and their hidden perks. (lemme know if you guys want a part 2 hehe)

SYLUS - horseriding

Quirking his silver brow, his crimson orbs tailed your gaze. A gaze that went from bottom to top, a view you could not believe witnessing in front of your eyes. The giant figure of your boyfriend on top of a Dutch Draft. "Are you planning to just stand there and watch me in awe or do you plan to ride with me?" His voice thick, specifically laced with proud mockery as he was enjoying the look of shock you had been wearing ever since he had told you that he is good at horse riding. He extended his palm to you and took your hand, providing balance to you as you walked up the steps and took a seat in front of him, on top of the horse. This is afterall, your first time riding a horse.

It all started out as a harmless joke while the both of you were watching some National Geographic show about horses. Till he nonchalantly mentioned that he has been riding horses from a very young age and hence the surprise date for today. Featuring your boyfriend, with a horse--that you had no idea where he got from. You tensed up when you felt his chest pressed against your back, his breaths fanned over the top of your head. You hate to admit it—but you still do anyways— how he always manages to get a reaction out of you, be it stemming from a simple gesture. "Now that you have found out about my secret talent, does this mean we get to ride horses more often?" He leaned down, whispering seductively against the shell of your ear. "Or perhaps you would just prefer riding me, sweetie?"

RAFAYEL - good with kids

“Careful.” Rafayel grabs ahold of your forearm, guiding you past the puddle in the vast garden. The date came about to be a surprise, with the charming boyfriend of yours appearing at your doorstep in the mid evening, seeking you out from the stuffiness of your house to embrace Mother Nature in all of its glory after a whole day of heavy rain. Blushing slightly, you continued walking with him down the cobblestoned pathways, enjoying the coolness of the rain till sounds of laughters filled the air. A couple of kids were perched over a drain cover, staring into the waters with their beady eyes.

Rafayel drops his hold from your forearm and held onto your hand, the casual yet romantic gesture still greatly affects you. “Come on, let’s see what they are looking at.” At a certain extent, when you stared at your boyfriend from a distance, interacting with the children, laughing and chuckling as he was playing catch with them made your stomach feel warm. For someone like him, who spends most of his days locked away in that mansion of his, interacting with only a fish and canvases, you had never thought of him to be good with children. However, Rafayel had yet again managed to surprise you. Seeing him waltzing over to you, with a huge grin stapled on his face, you can’t help but mimicked his expression. “You seemed bored. Do you want to join us cutie?”

XAVIER - has an annual pass to amusement parks

It took forever for the both of you to plan a date due to the recent influx of wanderers. Captain Jenna had gotten the both of you to be split up into two different shifts; with you being the leader for the day shift while your boyfriend, Xavier is incharge of the night shift. Hence, when the wanderers' amount had finally decreased, Xavier did not hesitated to ask you out on a date. "I had always wanted to bring you here. It was on my list." He spoke, hands holding tightly onto your smaller palms as he led you past the huge archways of the theme park. Colours of all spectrums welcomed you, revealing the colourful fanfare of a theme park and you could feel your inner giddiness peeking through your smile.

As the both of you stood in line for the tickets, you were surprised when Xavier muttered to you. "Since it is your first time here, I will buy the ticket for you." When it came to your turn for the ticket purchase, your boyfriend only requested for one and you tapped onto his shoulder nervously, immediately asking him if he was only going to get one and watch you from outside or perhaps he may need some aid for funds. The man however beamed shyly, ear tips turning a shade of rubicund when he tried to explain himself. "I...uhm...have an annual pass?" The hidden question mark at the end of his sentence made you chuckled in return, mind already imagining how funny it would be to see him riding the theme park rides all by himself. "But, I got you an annual pass too." He held up the golden ticket in his hand. "From now on, we can both come together as much as we want."

ZAYNE - good at snowboarding

Zayne had appeared at your doorstep a little too early than his usual timing, which is usually going by your timing as you do like taking your time to sleep in and he do not find the need to disturb your beauty sleep. But today seems to be different when he appeared in front of your door with a coat in his hand. When you asked him about the purpose of him coming so early, the man only kept it short and simple, replying accurately to what you had asked. "I had taken a few days off of work and I had booked us a spot at a ski lodge." When you had an eyebrow raised, he continued to explain himself. "You had been watching the snowboarding event for the Olympics recently. I assumed you would like to try it yourself." You weren't exactly surprised at how conscious he tends to be, but you are more concerned of yourself as you had never done any snowboarding in your life.

"You had never snowboarded before haven't you?" Zayne questioned, those forest green orbs of his meeting yours with amusement. As you nodded, you could feel your cheeks heating up, warming you from the harsh cold winds. You hesitated though, asking him in return if he were to know anything about snowboarding given that during the safety briefing he did asked a couple of questions here and there. "Me? I would not say I am good at it, but I did tried it before, ever since I was a kid." He patted your head, a small smile tugging onto the end of his lips. "Don't worry, I will hold onto you the whole time and make sure you do not hurt your knees or fall into the snow." His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close against his side and he planted a kiss onto your forehead. "But you can definitely fall into my arms if you slip."

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 67

Oilstripe and Halibutdusk have recovered from birth and greencough, respectively. Meanwhile, Paleseed gets whitecough.

[Image ID: Waspdawn says to Paleseed, ““I know fighting whitecough can be awful, so I wanted to give you this tail weave I  made with Rabbitjoy to cheer you up.” Paleseed now has red feathers in her tail. Under her, it says + CONDITION: WHITECOUGH, + ACCESSORY: RED FEATHERS.]

(Waspdawn: 33, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Paleseed: 33, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

Rapidleaf talks with Honeybuzz about what it’s like to be a cleric.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz says to Rapidleaf, “It isn’t worth the pain.”]

---

Honeybuzz adjusted the long hunt pelt covering Tempestshade’s back. The black cat was asleep, one of their few peaceful naps as their leg deteriorated more and more. The thick snowfall outside sent cold air stirring between the wooden walls. Mosspounce and Carnationspeckle tirelessly tended to the fire outside the medicine den, making sure their fellow caretaker would not suffer anymore than they already did. Honeybuzz doubted it would do much, though. Whatever damage the silver jaw caused to Tempestshade’s leg, Honeybuzz and Troutpool only delayed its endgame. 

Honeybuzz groomed Tempestshade’s neck as his patient groaned softly. He muttered a soft prayer and turned to his pots and baskets of medicine. As he checked on the Clan’s supply of painkillers, paws trudged through the clumpy snow outside. Rattlepelt made her way inside, snow gathering in balls on her fox pelt. She slipped it off, seemingly unphased by the storm.

“Are you busy, Honeybuzz?” Rattlepelt asked. Honeybuzz glanced at Tempestshade.

“Not really,” Honeybuzz muttered. He peeked under the wraps on Tempestshade’s leg and sighed. “Are you staying warm, Rattlepelt?”

“As warm as I can be,” Rattlepelt sighed. She strolled by the shelves of medicine sitting along the sand and wood. “I’m hoping to find something for my mood. Something calming. Lavender, maybe?”

“Ah yes, lavender in the middle of winter,” Honeybuzz scoffed, mustering a pathetic laugh. His sarcasm soured at Rattlepelt’s sharp expression. Honeybuzz cleared his throat, further tucked Tempestshade under their pelt, and said, “There are a lot of herbs for mood. What exactly are you experiencing?”

“What am I not experiencing lately?” Rattlepelt sighed, undoing a leather lid from a pot and glancing inside. “You’re the cleric, I would think you’d notice.” Honeybuzz refrained from telling her actually I’ve been quite busy trying to save Tempestshade’s life, interpret a prophecy, and deal with the identity of my mother’s killer, but yes Rattlepelt, I’ve absolutely been studying your mood.

“Mood swings?” Honeybuzz guessed. “Anxiety?” Honeybuzz took the leather lid back from Rattlepelt and sealed the pot.

“The first thing, I suppose,” Rattlepelt huffed. “According to my mate and mothers, I’ve been acting… out of character lately. Not quite as lively as I used to be. You must have something that can bring me back to normal.”

“It might not be herbs you need,” Honeybuzz suggested. “Have you talked with Spikecrash or Paleseed?”

“I don’t need a mediator,” Rattlepelt grunted with a thrash of her tail. 

“You talked with Paleseed all the time when your mother was held hostage,” Honeybuzz pointed out. “Why the refusal?”

“It’s different!” Rattlepelt snapped. She shoved past Honeybuzz and studied the herbs on the other side of the den. “I don’t want others talking about my business. I’d rather deal with it on my own time. You really can’t spare a pot of something? I just need to chew on something so I don’t chew on someone’s head.” Rattlepelt stuck her face into a basket.

“I don’t want to waste herbs on an issue a mediator could resolve,” Honeybuzz said. “Can you please stop looting through our supplies? We need them for Tempestshade.”

“Oh, so you’ll give medicine to an omen but not to one of your Clan’s only artisans?” The curl in Rattlepelt’s lip was like an angry warrior scaring a trespasser from the border. She flung a paw toward Tempestshade’s weak form. Honeybuzz stood his ground; he was not his mentor. Only StarClan could order him around. Defiant blue pierced through angry copper. Rattlepelt’s eyes widened. She groaned, recoiling back to the shelves. “This is what I’m talking about! Can you please just give me something?”

“Rattlepelt,” Honeybuzz said, stressing every word, “I am not giving you a lick of medicine until you speak with a mediator.” Rattlepelt deflated, veiny ears falling. Her claws unsheathed for a moment, stabbing the packed sand floor. She quickly covered them with her tail. She marched to her discarded fox pelt.

“I’d better leave before I do something else I’ll regret,” Rattlepelt grumbled, sliding the wet pelt onto her back. “Good luck with Tempestshade, Honeybuzz.” Rattlepelt stared at the thick falling snow outside the den. She slunk into the gray light with nary a shiver, the fire outside bouncing off her red leather pelt. Just when Honeybuzz began to process the new problem lumped onto his back, Rapidleaf scurried inside. Really? Now, of all moments?

“StarClan, that’s cold!” Rapidleaf yelped, shivering violently. Snow tumbled off her back as she shook.

“I thought you were assisting Troutpool with a ritual,” Honeybuzz sighed, turning to his shelves and pretending to check the herbs in an empty pot. 

“We just got back,” Rapidleaf panted. “I… wanted to talk to you before Troutpool joined you again.” Honeybuzz sighed deeply, gathering his strength. He couldn’t put this conversation off forever. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something to the Clan. Why haven’t you?” Ugggghhhhh why did Rapidleaf have to do this to him?

“You said it was an accident, right?” he huffed, finally facing Scrubmask’s killer. “You didn’t even remember what happened until later. So I’m staying quiet. It isn’t worth the pain.”

“But I killed her,” Rapidleaf said, soft and slow.

“And we moved on!” Honeybuzz groaned, throwing his head back. StarClan, this was like talking to a kit. “Mom took a new mate. My brothers and I graduated. Everyone thinks a Witch Hunter did it. Why would I hurt them all over again with this?”

“Because I killed her,” Rapidleaf said again, emphasizing each word, sinking in Honeybuzz’s strong presence.

“If you want to be punished so badly, confess to a codekeeper!” Honeybuzz snapped. “I am a cleric. I help my Clan. This, what you’ve done? Knowing that now will help no one. Don’t pretend to care about the right thing when you’re just a coward.” Rapidleaf bowed her head low. The bright fire outside turned her fur dark red like dried blood.

“If that’s what you think is right,” Rapidleaf muttered.

“Do your job and we won’t have any problems,” Honeybuzz growled, his golden face burning like the sun in the fire glow. He turned back to his empty pots and said, “Get warmed up. I don’t want to have to treat you for shivers.” He kept his ears perked as Rapidleaf’s paws crunched through the snow. He only looked back when he was certain she was gone. 

Honeybuzz groaned loudly, trudging to his nest and flopping into it. If he had to take this secret to StarClan, he was more than happy to do so. It was just easier. Now he only had three problems to deal with.

Well, that wasn’t true, even if he didn’t realize it yet. He had two problems.

Because Tempestshade had stopped breathing.

(Honeybuzz: 15, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Tempestshade: 28, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

(Rattlepelt: 50, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

(Rapidleaf: 85, female, warrior, lonesome, prophecy interpreter)

Tempestshade dies from their mangled leg. Mosspounce tells fond stories of his littermate while Trumpetspore mourns and Scaleripple tries to push his feelings aside.

[Image ID: Scaleripple watches Trumpetspore and Mosspounce leave. Under him, it says + CONDITION: SENSORY OVERLOAD.]

---

James quietly loaded Tempestshade’s body onto his back as dawn glimmered through the snowfall. Troutpool gave up an old vole pelt from her nest so Tempestshade’s crusted, wounded leg could be covered during the funeral. The leather wrapped around their leg and concealed their deadly injuries. Dried herbs poked out from under the leather, hiding the decaying smell. 

Scaleripple could still smell it, though. He smelled every decomposing muscle and faded blood-scent that clung to Tempestshade’s pelt. He could smell Trumpetspore and Mosspounce’s sorrow, still strong after a night at vigil. He could smell the concoctions and ointments the clerics used at first to stop Tempestshade’s deterioration, then to soften the end. He could smell death clinging to the snow that drifted over camp.

“Tempestshade would probably say something silly now about how we should just talk to Oilstripe if we miss them,” Mosspounce scoffed, swallowing hard. Trumpetspore laughed softly, leaning hard into Mosspounce. The laugh was like claws tearing at Scaleripple’s ears.

“Do you three have something to mark their grave?” James asked, shifting awkwardly with the added weight.

“I do, I do,” Mosspounce sighed. He stood, groaning and stretching his back. “One of our bowls broke a few days ago. With how much Tempestshade cooked, I want to use that as their marker. What do you think, Scaleripple?”

“Fine,” Scaleripple said. He stared at the spot where Tempestshade’s body had laid all night. The snow formed a hole in their vague shape.

“Scaleripple?” Trumpetspore peeked around her brother. “I know we don’t talk much, but… thank you for being there for Tempestshade. Mosspounce and I can’t say enough how much that… I’m sorry, I can’t.” It took all Trumpetspore’s effort to get even those few words out. Mosspounce groomed his sister, purring through the pain.

“It’ll be a long walk with this snow,” James sighed. “Let’s get on our way.” Trumpetspore and Mosspounce followed James, but when Scaleripple stayed seated, Mosspounce stopped and glanced back.

“You two bury them,” Scaleripple said. “Be alone with them.” No one had any energy to argue; Mosspounce nodded after a moment and rejoined Trumpetspore on their slow procession to the graveyard. Scaleripple stayed trapped in the scent of death. It clung to his fur like salt. Scaleripple closed his eyes.

“Scale?” Weedfoot shuffled across the thick snow, catching fat snowflakes in her fur. The new scar she sported around her ankle made Scaleripple’s paws burn just from its look. Her whole body sagged like a dying weed as she slipped beside her son. “Do you need me today?”

“I’m alright, Mom,” Scaleripple said. Weedfoot’s pelt was a whisker’s length from Scaleripple’s, but it felt like she was laying on top of him. 

Scaleripple needed that.

“I would have thought you’d go with the others to the graveyard,” Weedfoot noted. 

“I didn’t want to,” Scaleripple said. His gaze was drawn back to the hole.

“Well, I won’t be sending you on any patrols for the next day or two,” Weedfoot explained softly (StarClan bless her, finally a soft voice for Scaleripple’s strained mind). “I know your sister has whitecough, but if you need someone to talk to, Paleseed can listen.” 

“I’d rather go on patrol,” Scaleripple said. His expression remained unchanged, neutral and stuck on the hole.

“I don’t think you’re truly alright, Scaleripple,” Weedfoot mumbled. She got between Scaleripple and the place Tempestshade once laid. Scaleripple blinked wildly, trying to focus on his mother’s form as his vision blurred. He knew what was coming as soon as his ears began to ring.

“Do you want the truth?” Scaleripple asked. The tensions in his shoulders made his muscles burn.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Weedfoot hummed softly.

“No, it isn’t,” Scaleripple said. There was no intended malice, yet his tone still struck at Weedfoot like a rat bite. The ringing in Scaleripple’s ears grew louder. “There’s a lot I don’t understand that others do. I understood Tempestshade, though. They understood me. Now no one understands me.” 

Scaleripple’s eyes could not focus, even with Weedfoot standing right in front of him. Color and shadow melted together like beeswax in a pot. His skin burned. Weedfoot said something, but her words were just like the camp; melted, dissolved, burning. No one understands. No one understands. No one understands No one understands No one understands No one understands NO ONE UNDERSTANDS.

Some part of Scaleripple’s mind heard his Clan gather around him, wondering just what he was muttering. He could see worried faces peering into his huge blue eyes, even if he had no way to react to them. Despite all that, all he could do was stare at nothing, pressure building in his chest, sinking deeper and deeper into himself. The caring words of his Clan blurred together, yet each phrase was clear as air, layering over the next in a bloodbath of screeching bird song.

“Scale, come on now, what are you saying?”

“We should get him out of camp.”

“StarClan, does everyone have to stare at him?”

“Scaleripple, it will all be okay.”

“I understand you, Scaleripple!”

“Leave him alone, this doesn’t concern you.”

“How would you feel if we swarmed you after a vigil?”

“We may not understand you, Scaleripple, but we love you.”

If only Scaleripple could thank the soft, careful voices that slipped through the noise. Perhaps later. There was nothing he could say now. Only collapse into the spiral of his own, odd mind.

(James: 143, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Tempestshade: 28, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

(Scaleripple: 20, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Trumpetspore: 28, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter

(Mosspounce: 28, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Weedfoot: 116, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

Weevilkit and Yarrowkit make snow lumps at the entrance to camp.

[Image ID: Weevilkit and Yarrowkit build a snow cat as Wolfkit approaches. Yarrowkit says, “It looks a bit like a cat!” Under her, it says + PERMANENT CONDITION: ONE BAD EYE. Under Wolfkit, it says + CONDITION: BRUISES.]

---

Weevilkit couldn’t feel her nose, but she didn’t care. She rolled snowballs across the camp clearing toward Yarrowkit, who studied the large snow lump she and Weevilkit had cobbled together. The many, many kits of RippleClan had woken up from their sunhigh nap and now ruled the camp, running and screaming through the snow, entertaining one another. Yarrowkit protected the snow lump from her rampaging littermates, leaving light paw prints in its sides. Four snowballs sat along the corners of the lump like fat, lazy paws. 

“Is this big enough?” Weevilkit groaned. She shoved her giant snowball at Yarrowkit with one last mighty push. Yarrowkit trotted around the snowball, gauging just how big it truly was.

“Perfect!” Yarrowkit chirped. “Help me lift it on!” Yarrowkit and Weevilkit stood on either side of the snowball. They tucked their heads under their mound, snow crumbling into their eyes. Necks straining and muzzles aching, they lifted the snowball off the ground and threw it onto the mound. The bottom chunk of the snowball plopped off, making Yarrowkit and Weevilkit shriek.

“Pack it in!” Weevilkit cried. She and Yarrowkit scooped up snow and shoved it under their lump’s new head. Eventually, the lump no longer threatened to fall off. When Weevilkit was certain the structure was stable, she made two smaller snowballs and stuck them on the lump’s head. She bounced off the lump and admired it from the back.

“It looks a bit like a cat!” Yarrowkit chirped.

“Snow cat!” Weevilkit cheered, rearing onto her back legs like a horse.

It was at that moment that something strange occurred, something Weevilkit would not fully understand until she was older. In fact, in the moment, it felt more like a daydream than anything else, something that had come to her in the night and performed for her once more under the light of day. Yet the way she would describe it matched no daydream or typical trick of the mind.

On the other side of camp, Wolfkit eyed a snow pile a few tail-lengths behind Weevilkit. Harvest helped Robinkit and Currentkit build a mountain to scale and dig into like moles. As Weevilkit watched her sister, the gray kit’s form flickered. She stayed where she was, staring hungrily at the mountain, but another Wolfkit charged forward, slipping out of her body like a ghost. There was a fogginess to this second Wolfkit, a transparent and shiny nature that seemed like Oilstripe’s tales of StarClan cats. The real, solid Wolfkit did not react to this secondary form running out of her chest, unseeing.

But Weevilkit saw it all.

This ghostly Wolfkit darted past Yarrowkit. A misty version of Yarrowkit overlapped her living form, fur spiking and lips curling. Two cats existed in the same space, one in the other, making Weevilkit’s head hurt. Weevilkit watched as the other Wolfkit left deep pawprints behind her, even though the snow was no more disturbed than it had been. The other Wolfkit threw herself at the snow mountain. Harvest, Currentkit, and Robinkit gained their own foggy forms, stepping away from the ghost of the mountain. The nonexistent Wolfkit slammed into the mountain, but rather than the mountain collapsing into light and fluffy clumps, her head made a hole in the stiff snow. Wolfkit’s ghost collapsed at the base of the mountain. Weevilkit blinked, and the ghosts were gone.

And then it happened again.

Wolfkit darted past Yarrowkit. The brown and white kit jumped, fur spiking and lips curling. Harvest, Currentkit, and Robinkit hurried back as Wolfkit threw herself full-speed at the snow mountain. She face-planted into the unyielding snow and stumbled back with a loud groan. Weevilkit blinked again, this time shaking out her snow-dusted pelt.

A smart kit would have questioned that strange sight. However (and with no disrespect intended), Weevilkit was not smart.

“Are you okay?” Harvest asked, trying to force back her laughter at the face-shaped imprint in the snow.

“My face hurts,” Wolfkit grumbled, pulling herself out of the snow.

“That’s what happens when you run into a mountain,” Robinkit said matter-of-factly.

“It’s okay,” Currentkit promised. He slipped beside Wolfkit as the gray molly whimpered softly and rubbed her sore face.

“Wolfkit!” Yarrowkit snapped. “Don’t run past me like that! That’s my bad side!”

“Your bad side?” Weevilkit scoffed. “What does that mean?”

“You know!” Yarrowkit whined, smoothing out her fur. “Your bad side! Your dead eye! How would you like it if I scared you like that?” Weevilkit cocked her head so far to the side, her neck hurt.

“I don’t have a dead eye,” Weevilkit said. “How can an eye be dead?” While Robinkit and Currentkit teased Wolfkit, Harvest appeared behind Weevilkit.

“Mom, can you tell her about your dead eye?” Yarrowkit huffed. “Which one is it?”

“Yarrowkit, I don’t know what you’re saying,” Harvest said softly, getting to her daughter’s level. “Is something wrong with your eyes?” Weevilkit peered closer at Yarrowkit’s face. There was a droopiness to her right eye. Her pupil was huge compared to her other eye. A green haze covered the eye, depriving it of its usual sharpness. Harvest leaned in as well, staring intently at the right eye.

“Wait,” Yarrowkit gulped, “is your other eye supposed to do something?” Harvest sat up, swallowing hard. She buried her twitching tail under her flank.

“Yarrowkit,” Harvest said, “can you come with me? I want you to talk to Troutpool and Honeybuzz.”

“But I’m playing,” Yarrowkit huffed, placing a paw on the snow cat.

“You can go back to your game afterward, I promise,” Harvest stammered. “Now come along. You need to tell the clerics just what you’ve told me.” Yarrowkit deflated as Harvest looped around her and nudged her toward the medicine den. She glanced at Weevilkit as she passed, turning her head far to see her with her one good eye. 

Now, truth be told, while she would have to train around it, Yarrowkit would get along just fine with a bad eye. That was not what Weevilkit should have been concerned about.

(Weevilkit: 2, female, kit, bullying, curious about StarClan)

(Yarrowkit: 2, female, kit, noisy, stares at fire)

(Wolfkit: 2, female, kit, polite, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Harvest: 55, female, queen, nervous, good fighter)

(Robinkit: 2, male, kit, unruly, avid play-fighter)

(Currentkit: 2, male, kit, polite, constantly climbing)

Anchovykit wakes up with a splitting headache and can’t get out of his nest.

[Image ID: Anchovykit says to Tempestshade, now a ghost, “Do you need help?” Under him, it says + CONDITION: SEVERE HEADACHE.]

---

It wasn’t fair. All the other kits were playing in the snow, screaming and cheering at their winter fun, kept warm by the fire crackling between the elder’s den and the warrior’s den. Anchovykit should have been out there. He had to go out there and play! He was missing out on all the joys of the day!

When Anchovykit stood at the edge of the nursery, looking out over camp, his eyes burned. His head smacked him about like an enemy warrior. The snow intensified the pain. He squeezed his eyes as tight as he could, trying to fight off the headache. Honeybuzz had told him to just rest, but how could he rest when everyone else was having fun?

But then again, with a headache like his, Anchovykit couldn’t play. Especially since it made him see things.

The headache added an odd sheen to the camp. A soft sparkle danced around the medicine den like stars in the day. Weevilkit and Wolfkit, laughing over their snowbound antics, shared in this sparkle. Oilstripe, who told her kits stories by the Shiprock, had a glow to her eyes that made Anchovykit’s pelt itch. Even though the shine clawed at his eyes, Anchovykit found it hard not to look at the odd ways his head toyed with him.

Still, the soft awe of the camp was nothing compared to the sheer horror of looking at Rattlepelt. The furless artisan watched the Clan from the corner of camp, using her fox pelt as warm flooring against the snow. Her single white ear twitched casually as she watched Weedfoot return from patrol with Lavendertwist, Waspdawn, and Puddlewhisper. Her claws poked through the snow as Weedfoot laughed at one of Lavendertwist’s jokes. She groaned softly, forcing herself to look away from the family. 

It wasn’t her gray skin or odd behavior that made Anchovykit nauseous, however. Slime covered Rattlepelt’s smooth skin, slick yet dull like mud. Her legs grew black the farther down they went. Slushy pools of black gunk collected at her paws. She had become a river of dark mud, her body as its source. And then there were her eyes. Gone was the warm and cheeky copper shine everyone found so familiar in Rattlepelt. Instead, bright yellow eyes burned with unhidden, unquenchable hatred, a hatred that threatened to seep into every wrinkle and fold of Rattlepelt’s bony body.

Anchovykit ran back into the quiet shadows of the nursery. Headaches were terrifying! He crawled into his empty nest with a whine. He shoved his muzzle into the moss and leather. The sooner he took a nap, the sooner this headache would go away, and the camp would look normal again. He breathed in the leftover scent of his mother and littermates. He was always safe with them. They would protect him from the horrors of his headache.

“You’re a funny little kit, aren’t you?”

“Clammask, go away,” Anchovykit whined through the moss.

“I sound like Clammask? Huh. Isn’t that funny!” 

Anchovykit wasn’t in his nest anymore. He opened his eyes to blackness below. It was not pure darkness, though; tiny stars glimmered far, far away. The floor matched the ceiling. All around Anchovykit, Silverpelt shone in small white specks. There was no ground for Anchovykit to stand on, but regardless, he stood. He could feel something warm and soft under his paws, but when he lifted them, there was nothing but Silverpelt underneath. His mother had told him that on some nights, Silverpelt glowed with a myriad of colors, but all he saw now was black and white. The sunless land was shockingly warm, warm in the way Anchovykit imagined summer to be, that beautiful season he had yet to see. The clawing, tearing pain in his head was now a small worm, wiggling about behind his eye. Anchovykit stated at his pelt. There was no source of light, but his body was not covered in shadow. There was a dullness to him, something in between light and darkness, the pure essence of his colors untainted by the sun.

“Weird dream,” he muttered.

“I don’t like involving a kitten like this, but they shouldn’t have to suffer for long.” Anchovykit turned around. A blue-gray molly stood behind him. Dark, swirling stripes like water criss-crossed her starry pelt. A moth’s wing hung delicately behind her ear in an impossible fashion, as though the moth had perched itself just on the stranger’s head. 

“You look like Weedfoot,” Anchovykit gasped.

“I should,” the stranger laughed. “I’m her daughter! My name is Ripplefern. I’m a member of StarClan, and I need your help.” Anchovykit’s eyes widened. His mother had grown up with second-paw tales of StarClan’s power, while Anchovykit and his littermates got to hear of their glory straight from the mouth of RippleClan. Now Anchovykit was one of those blessed souls that got visited by the ancestors in his sleep, even if he wasn’t a cleric! He kneaded the invisible ground, purring.

“Am I important?” Anchovykit purred, eagerly running up to Ripplefern.

“More than I can explain now,” Ripplefern sighed. “I have a friend who will spend a long time alone if you don’t help them. Do you think you can help my friend?”

“I’ll try,” Anchovykit promised. Ripplefern purred, her blue eyes growing soft as down.

“Follow me.” Ripplefern turned gracefully and wandered deeper into Silverpelt. Anchovykit stayed at her side, eyes scanning the strange land around him. If this was StarClan, it was really empty!

“Where are all the other StarClan warriors?” Anchovykit asked.

“They wouldn’t be here,” Ripplefern explained. “Sometimes, when a warrior dies, they don’t go straight to StarClan. Sometimes they need to wait a while as we sort through some problems. This is where they go to wait.” Ripplefern looked up into the endless speckled black. “My friend was born with a problem. When they died, the problem sent them here, and they can’t leave until we fix it. But it’s not a problem StarClan can fix alone. My friend could be here for moons if we got help the normal way. But we’re lucky. You’re here.”

“What’s the normal way?”

“Rituals, visions, other calls for assistance from the living clerics. Being alive makes you special.” Anchovykit walked a little taller. He was special.

A figure appeared in the distance. It was hard for Anchovykit to see them with their black fur. Anchovykit’s paws grew heavy when he saw black mud clinging to the figure’s legs. He only managed to recognize them when he saw their dark green eyes.

“Tempestshade!” Anchovykit gasped, leaving Ripplefern behind. “Do you need help?” Tempestshade gawked at the kit. They still looked alive; a little hazy, perhaps, but alive. Anchovykit had only known them with their leg bandaged, but now it was strong and free of scars. They could stand and look down on Anchovykit, just as confused as he was. 

“Do I know you?” Tempestshade asked.

“He was born while you were fighting your death wounds,” Ripplefern explained. Tempestshade only just noticed Ripplefern. They grew as still as they had been when their body laid in camp for vigil. 

“You look better than when I saw you last,” they managed to gulp.

“Anchovykit is here to help you,” Ripplefern said. “Do you see all that black ichor, Anchovykit? I need you to rip it off, like when you tear into a fish.” Anchovykit sneered at the ooze on Tempestshade’s legs. He was supposed to touch that? With his mouth? What could he even hold onto? It was mud!

“Why?” Anchovykit groaned.

“You’re the only one who can,” Ripplefern said. Hmm. Well, if StarClan asked it of him…

Anchovykit peered at the ooze. Maybe if he just bit the whole paw…. He shut his tiny jaws around Tempestshade’s front leg. Tempestshade hissed and smacked Anchovykit.

“Alright, not like that,” Ripplefern laughed. “Just… pretend you’re removing the lid off a pot. Peel the ichor off like you peel off the leather.” Oh, that made much more sense! 

Anchovykit spat out the gunk that stuck to his teeth. He took a big breath and dug his fangs into the black ichor. He pulled at the ooze with a violent, suctioning sound. It was like a paw trying to rip itself from the mud. There was no ground to gain a foothold on, but Anchovykit dug himself in regardless. The ichor stuck to Tempestshade like some many-legged monster of the deep. Anchovykit dug deeper into the ooze and pulled harder. As it stretched farther and farther from Tempestshade’s leg, it began to take a new form. Feline ears poked out of the black. A slender form took shape, its scruff in Anchovykit’s grasp. 

It was a cat, utterly soaked in the gut-heaving black ichor, no bone or pelt to speak of. It wasn’t much smaller than Anchovykit himself. Anchovykit dropped the mewling creature and gagged.

“What is that?” Anchovykit groaned. The creature squirmed and twitched like a newborn, making the worm in Anchovykit’s skull spasm once more in a headache.

“The power of the Dark Forest made manifest,” Ripplefern said, her tone low and serious in a way Anchovykit had never heard anyone speak in his short life. “This is Tempestshade’s curse in physical form, the evil energy that struck out against those who got too close. Your special sight shows you their influence, and the influence of the stars. You are the one who can pull them from idea and ethereal being to something tangible.”

“Huh?” Anchovykit said.

“Strike it along its neck,” Ripplefern sighed, waving her paw at the creature. “Now that you’ve pulled the curse off Tempestshade, you can fight it.” Ripplefern needed to get better at explaining things. Anchovykit may have been young, but he understood what it meant to fight like a warrior.

Anchovykit jumped onto the creature with a yowl more suited to a play fight than true battle. The pathetic thing was no match for a harsh wind, let alone Anchovykit’s tiny fangs. He shoved the creature onto its back and bit into its neck. The creature stopped squirming at once. As Anchovykit tightened his jaw, the monster’s ichor dripped through the invisible floor. It tumbled through the starry abyss below, everfalling, never landing. Piece by piece the creature melted away until Anchovykit’s teeth smacked together with nothing left to hold.

“I just fought a Dark Forest cat,” he gasped softly. His flank wiggled as he cheered, “I fought the Dark Forest!”

“In a sense,” Ripplefern chuckled.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised I didn’t go to StarClan,” Tempestshade said with an awkward scoff. “Can’t really let in an omen, I suppose.”

“It’s not your fault the Dark Forest latched onto you,” Ripplefern said. She slowly approached the black tabby. Anchovykit stepped back before he even thought to give them room. “You did well with what you had to bear. But now you don’t have to wait here anymore. You can come with me.” 

Ripplefern’s nose touched Tempestshade’s forehead. A spark danced where skin met fur. Stardust shimmered over Tempestshade’s head. A glittering wave coursed over their pelt. Brilliant stars danced along the stripes in their fur. The gunk that clogged their paws was now a shimmery, sparkling mist. Tempestshade gawked at their new form, lifting each paw to study the shine.

“Oh,” Tempestshade muttered.

“StarClan is excited to taste some of your food,” Ripplefern purred, bunting Tempestshade’s shoulder. “There’s a lot I want to talk to you about.”

“I just want to know how Moss and Trumpet and Scale are doing without me,” Tempestshade sighed, touching noses with Ripplefern. They paused for a moment, then stepped back. “Actually, no, that isn’t the only thing I want to know. What’s his story?” Tempestshade looked at Anchovykit.

“I’ll tell you in private,” Ripplefern promised. She set her tail on Tempestshade’s back.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?” Anchovykit asked, marching up to Ripplefern. “I don’t know my story either!”

“I’ve shown you what you can do,” Ripplefern sighed, shaking her head, “but you’ll have to work some things through yourself. I’m afraid StarClan can’t do everything for you. Just remember what I taught you, Anchovykit. Be good to your mother.” Ripplefern touched her nose to Anchovykit’s head. It was as cold as the winter chill blowing off the ocean.

When Anchovykit woke up, he still had a raging headache, but that was nothing compared to the complete and utter confusion that made his vision spin.

(Anchovykit: 2, male, kit, charming, curious about StarClan)

(Rattlepelt: 50, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

(Ripplefern: 18, female, historian, charismatic, talented swimmer, good fighter)

(Tempestshade: 28, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

Billowkit can’t stop sneezing.

[Image ID: Billowkit asks Troutpool, “So I’ll be sneezing forever?” Under him, it says + PERMANENT CONDITION: ALLERGIES. In the back, Currentkit calls, “Let’s see what makes you sneeze!” Under him, it says + NEW SKILL: HAS LOTS OF IDEAS.]

(Troutpool: 28, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Billowkit: 2, male, kit, bossy, active imagination)

(Currentkit: 2, male, kit, polite, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)