#and this character once tried to frame the hulk

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

Losing my mind re-reading this. Needs to be launched from the nest finally. Chapter One of a character exploration series framed around some of the more meaningful lays in Rugan's life. Following him from Age 19 up to before the game. A new lay every episode. Pairing: Rugan/Original Female Character

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Rugan is 19, struggling with life in a small town. He's heard rumors his last friend is about to leave for a better life and now he needs just one more night to say goodbye.

Tags: Established Relationship, Goodbye Sex, Pre-Canon, Cunnilingus, Bittersweet, Penis in Vagina Sex, Banter, Young Rugan

Word Count: 5,568

Below the cut or on AO3

The 20th of Kythorn, 1461 – The Year of the Goddesses Blessing Hilp, Cormyr Evening

The small town’s tavern was full to bursting with a swell of bodies and joyous noise. From corner to corner, the building is packed with festive clientele, tankards in hand. Most patrons have given up finding a seat and settled for standing where space will allow. Several disparate renditions of bawdy songs sprout in different clusters of friends and war for auditory dominance of the establishment. A bellowing voice from behind the bar shouts to keep the noise reasonable but is too happy with the booming solstice business to fight too hard against the din.

Rugan wedges in through the front doors and bodily pushes his way through the crowd. Finding footing where he can between the swell of other people, he casually nabs an arse-less stool as he passes by. Someone tries to shout after him with verbal claims, but he pretends not to hear as he hefts it over his head and carries it above the crowd to a back corner near the dusty edge of the fireplace where he can find just enough space to sit unbothered.

From his perch, he watches through the crowd as a young blonde barmaid darts between customers, weaving gracefully with more pints than he could ever understand possible in her arms. She smiles and laughs with some customers, passing out rounds to the sitting and standing alike. Tonight patrons linger with her a bit longer than usual, with fewer immediate orders and more conversation spun special just for her. She nods emphatically to some, gives modest smiles to others, and conflicted frowns to others still. Occasionally someone reaches out to hug her and when her arms are empty enough she lets them, returning the gesture graciously.

After a particularly large order, she finds a moment of respite behind the bar and hulking barkeep. With a brief stretch and deep sigh, she leans against the back counter taking a moment to nibble a likely stale bun and gulp down a half-watered ale. – Just enough ale to keep her friendly. More than enough water to keep her upright in the heat. And a bun just stale enough to sponge them both and keep her from pissing like a horse every hour. – She had emphatically defended her method to the young man once with no lack of self-certainty when he scoffed about how awful her on-the-job meal choices were.

While the barmaid waits for the next deliveries to be readied, she readjusts her hair, grabbing loose strands and fitting them back in place in her low bun. She complained to him once she thought her hair looked like straw– but he thought it looked like the first rays of sunlight casting through the trees in bright golden streams. It made him think of the peacefulness of dawn, the comfort of home, and how she always smelled like spring. The corners of his eyes crinkle as an unconscious smile pulls at his lips. He would never tell her, she’d only add this small poetic streak to the sprawling list of things she chose to tease him about already. It was a happy thought he would keep to himself and safely contained to his daydreams of her.

Her brief break ends as she’s passed a fistful of pints and a steaming plate of roast. He loses sight of her in the crowd but finds her again as she pushes her way along the outskirts on her way back to the bar.

As she swings close enough, he catches her by the wrist and gently yanks her to his isolated corner.

“Hey! No touchi–,” Furiously, she spins to face him, her free hand raised and ready to strike. The moment she recognizes him the rage melts away to a coy smile. “Rugan!” Her voice is still irritated but drops playfully. She brings her poised hand down to his cheek and lightly slaps him.

“Good evening to you too,” He laughs and releases his hold on her. With an exaggerated frown, he rubs the lightly reddening spot on his cheek. “You’re going to owe me for that one. Could’ve done some major damage to my best asset, Sanya.”

“It’s your onlyasset.” She says with mock sternness, placing her hands squarely on her hips.

Rugan cocks his head and raises an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying la—.”

Sanya threatens him with a withering look.

He holds his tongue but gives her a wicked smile.

“Sanya! I need you back here now!” The barkeep shouts, his voice just deep enough to carry over the crowd.

Sanya glances at the crowd and back to Rugan. “Look, I’m still working. I don’t have time to gab with you.”

The smile slides off Rugan’s face. “I didn’t think you’d be working tonight. What time is he letting you go?”

“Usual time.” She frowns. “Are you going to be a customer or a nuisance tonight?”

Both, he wants to say, but even he knows better at the moment. “If I could get my usual, I’ll wait around until you get off.”

“Aye? I bet you will.” She winks and gives him a cocky chuckle. There’s a sadness in her eyes, but before he can do anything about it she disappears back into the crowd and returns to her duties.

♦ ♦ ♦

Rugan waits patiently for another three hours, nursing a pint, and a plate of whatever Sanya can weasel away from the kitchen. At one point he joins in on the bawdy singing, adding his own spin to the lyrics and making eye contact with his favorite lass whenever she dares to look his way. He sings himself hoarse for the briefest slivers of her attention. Each time, she rolls her eyes with a smile and continues about her business with a shake of her head.

When the crowd thins down to just him and a few low-energy regulars, the barkeep waves Sanya over. He throws a sad glance towards Rugan sitting with his empty pint held on the stool between his knees. With a nod to the lonely boy, he quietly tells her, “Go on then, dear. I can take it from here.” The old man passes her a small satchel with her pay of the day and a little extra. “All the blessings on you for your adventure.”

She thanks the large man with a tender pat on his hand and turns back to Rugan.

Rugan stands, placing his empty mug on the stolen stool behind him. With a few long strides across the near-empty room, he has her in his arms. He steals a quick kiss before he lowers himself to wrap his arms around her waist and raises her up so he can gaze up at her. She places her hands on his shoulders to steady herself and smiles down at him. Backlit by the chandelier, loose strands of hair frame her like a glowing halo.

My sunrise. He thought, but then the realization set in.

For the first time ever, she didn’t argue or fight back when he kissed her with an audience. He knows in his heart now, that the rumors were true: tonight was goodbye.

♦ ♦ ♦

The two slip away into the festive night but don’t make it far before Rugan becomes impatient. He pulls her aside around the edge of the tavern’s alley. Tucked out of sight, the words come tumbling from his lips. “When are you leaving? Where are you going?”

“Tomorrow morning, at the arse crack of dawn. I’ve got my passage secured on a caravan passing through from Arabel. We’ll head south of the Storm Horns and head westward. I’m thinking I’ll see what I can find in Elturel and if there’s nothing there for me I’ll head westward still.” She shrugs casually like she’d practiced the speech a thousand times and gave it a thousand times more today.

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice wavers.

“I did tell you. You didn’t believe me.” She tries to put on a brave face, but her pale, hazel eyes are downcast.

Rugan swallows, his throat suddenly too dry to speak. He did remember that conversation. At the time he didn’t think much of it. They had both spent every day since they were at least ten complaining about how there was nothing in Hilp worth seeing. How they would go on great adventures. How they’d steal the horses from the Dzavars’ stables and run off into the night. When she told him her actual plan to leave, it simply felt like another shared daydream.

“...why are you going?” His voice cracks. Half a foot taller than her and he feels like a child trying to beg his way out of punishment.

“I can’t stay here. I need more from life than….this.” Sanya flails impotently at her smock and the buildings around them. “There's nothing here for me.”

“I’m here.” The simple words cut cold and deep.

The spark in her eyes dies for a moment, she looks like a rabbit caught in a snare, uncertain and hunting for a way out. She glances from him and down the alley, wringing her hands in the pockets of her apron. He wished in that moment he could take the words back, shove them down his throat, and choke on them before they had a chance to hurt her.

Her eyes are misty when she finally looks back at him. “Ru…” The old nickname sounds like a lament. Sanya glances away again, but this time it feels different. She breathes deeply, steadying herself, and shakes her head. “You can’t hold down a job. You were a tanner last week and you’re a cooper this week. That's no way to live. Not for me, not for you.”

It was true: he had been working odd jobs since his tenth summer. He had become good at learning quickly and on the job. Even so, each job would last only as long as an employer would tolerate him before his mouth got him in trouble – which wasn’t nearly long enough in a town this small.

He reaches out to her, placing a pleading hand on her upper arm. Against her better judgment, she welcomes the warmth of him and leans into his touch.

“Sonderson got a more permanent apprentice from the city and Jandal needed someone after the last boy lost a finger and refused to come back. I go where the work is. Where people need me. Some people say that makes me a handy man to have around.” His face softens as he tries to reassure her with a smile, but he can’t quite manage it.

She chuckles at him, placing a hand over his. “I think you misheard them, you’re a handsy man, Ru.”

“Aye. That I am.” He moves closer to her, leaning to place his forehead against hers. With his free hand, he strokes her hair gently. For a long moment, they stand silently together in that alley. The sounds of the hamlet’s solstice celebrations wind down to near silence.

Rugan pulls away first to look her in the eyes, as he promises, “I won’t hold you back, Sanya. I wouldn’t dare.”

He pushes a loose strand of sunshine out of her face and tucks it back behind her ear. The tension in her shoulders and the worry on her face fade away before his eyes.

“I’ve known you long and well enough to know no one and nothing in this world can.” He continues, smiling at her genuinely even as he feels his heart breaking in his chest. “Just let me have you one last time before you go.”

Please. His heart begs.

She doesn’t make him say it, the pleading was clear as day in his sad blue eyes. She pulls him down and kisses him softly and not another word is said.

♦ ♦ ♦

Rugan doesn't know how he got back to her room in the back of the tavern. His eyes were locked on her and the rest of the world and their celebrations ceased to matter. The two enter the dark room and Sanya paces quickly towards her tinder box on the far counter. While she lights a lantern, Rugan bolts the hefty door behind him. Waiting impatiently, he leans against the door while he watches her. He knew full well the moment he got his hands on her he wouldn’t be able to stop himself and the last time he had interrupted her with the tinderbox she had slightly lit both of them on fire. Scorches of that incident still stained one of the wooden countertops.

The room was cleaner now than it had ever been in the three years she lived here. It had once been an auxiliary food preparation room when there was hope left that Hilp could be more than it was always doomed to be, and now the room served only as staff quarters and storage. Remnants of its hopeful origins decorate the room with counters and excessive wall shelving. The in-use bed lay half made by the door, others stacked against the wall and out the way. A tub lay to the side partially filled from the day before, with a jug of fresh water between it and a washing basin. Sanya’s scant belongings had been pulled off the shelves and packed neatly in a traveler's bag next to the door with her road clothes laid out next to it.

As she closes the lantern, he slides behind her. She barely manages to snuff the match and push the tinderbox away before his hands are on her. He begins at her shoulders stroking his way down to her waist where he deftly unties her apron, letting it tumble to the floor.

“Rugan…” she rasps and leans back into him.

His hands continue downwards, tracing her hips with his palms and coming to rest at the top of her thighs. With a twist of his fingers in the fabric, he pulls her skirts up one fistful at a time.

“I've been sweating all day...” Sanya protests weakly but grinds her ass back into him and his growing hardness.

“I don't mind.” He kisses the back of her neck.

“I should bathe before tomorrow…” She tries to reason.

He smirks against her skin. “You'll want to bathe when I'm done with you, anyway.”

With her skirts lifted he slides his hands beneath the fabric and kneads her hips and cheeks, tracing the line of her underclothes. Whimpering, she leans forward against the counter to brace herself as he works over the tight muscles of her backside, easing the ache of the day away. Rugan ruts against the cleft of her ass, erection straining against the ties of his trousers. He bites back a moan at the sweet friction.

Sanya reaches behind her grabbing for his bulge. Her fingertips grazed the head of his cock through his pants and bucks at the sudden touch.

Quickly, he snatches her seeking hand. Rugan leans over, pressing her chest flat to the counter beneath his muscled torso. “Not yet.” He rumbles into her ear, sending a blissful shiver down her spine.

She huffs, squirming impatiently and grinding back into him for more.

Rugan pushes the lantern to the side and steps back. Before she can protest the loss of him, he turns her around and picks her up with an arm beneath her thigh and another around her waist. Then he hefts her onto the counter facing him. He slides between her legs, running his fingers over her knees and thighs. She grabs for him twisting her fist into his shirt to pull him into a kiss, and locking him close with her ankles behind his thighs. He presses back into the kiss, groaning as she tugs at his lip with her teeth.

He reaches behind himself unlocking her legs to slide her boots off, dropping them to the floor behind him.

She uses the brief distraction to release his shirt. Her hands fly immediately to tug again at the ties of his breeches.

Rugan pulls her hands off him, lacing his fingers through hers and holding them out to the side. “I told you not yet.” He growls and kisses her roughly.

Sanya struggles against his grip as he holds her in place, kissing along the lobe of her ear and down to her neck. She manages to slip one hand free of his, palming his erection through his trousers while she grasps again for the ties. Before he can grab her again, she manages to pull the knot undone.

Holding her tightly by the wrist, he growls against her neck, “Do that again and I’ll tie you up.” Unable to help himself, he presses his straining bulge against the heat of her spread legs

“That’s hardly a threat. I know how shite your rope work is.” Sanya smirks defiantly and groans as she rolls her hips against him.

He releases her hands and grabs her by the chin, kissing her until she’s quiet. She was right, his knotwork was sloppy and getting better but it wouldn’t do to argue now.

Sanya places her hands against his chest while she returns his kiss. She slides them against the width of his pectorals, admiring the firmness of his muscled chest.

Rugan keeps his hand on her chin, pressing through her parted lips to roll his tongue over hers. With his other hand, he ventures beneath her skirt, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. With her hands on his shoulders, she uses the leverage to lift herself just enough to let him slide the fabric over the curve of her ass and down to her shapely thighs. He slides out from between her legs, breaking the kiss to take a step back far enough to pull her smallclothes down the rest of the way.

Her face flushed and her lips swollen red from kissing, she watches him with half-closed eyes as he lets the garment slip from his fingers and fall to the floor. She holds his gaze while she takes her hair down, shaking golden waves free. He takes a moment to memorize the sight of her: Flushed, legs spread, skirt up around her hips, cunt slick with need and shining in the lantern light.

He was going to miss her.

Rugan presses forward, pulling her flush to him at the edge of the counter. He rests his hands on her strong thighs as he captures her mouth with his. She grinds against him, her wetness streaking the front of his breeches. At this moment he couldn’t care, pressing his bulge against her. He slides one hand to the back of her head, winding his fingers in her hair. His kisses trail from her lips and down the line of her jaw to her neck.

He nips her, sucking roughly at the skin of her neck.

Sanya moans loudly, as the sensation sends a wave of pleasure through her. “No marks.” She orders through the haze.

Rugan releases the suction and instead presses gentle kisses along the graceful line of her neck, down her collarbone, and to the top of her blouse. He can’t help but grin as she tugs the top of her blouse down for him, exposing her perky breasts to him. Taking the hint he trails kisses to the peak of one. He pauses, glancing up at her before flicking a tentative lick across the pink bud. With a gasp, she grabs him by the back of the hair and presses his face into her tits. He opens his mouth, sucking the nipple in and rolling his tongue over the hard peak. She moans, bucking her hips against him. He slides a hand up her thigh, holding her in place at the hip while he lavishes her with flicks of his tongue. His other hand trails up her side, firmly grabbing the other breast.

“Please,” She whines. “Please fuck me...”

He pulls away, pressing a forceful kiss against her mouth. “Hush.” He orders.

She locks a leg over his hip and grinds against the fabric of his trousers, protesting his authority silently. He couldn’t help but thrust back, precum leaking from his throbbing cock and soaking through his own smallclothes.

He wanted to give in so badly, to plunge himself to the hilt in her soft folds. To feel the way her walls fluttered against his cock, to hear her cry out when he thrust so deep she swore she saw stars. But he wanted to remember her and the way she tasted.

Rugan pulls away from her mouth, pressing rough kisses into the breast in his hand. He gives it a parting nip that elicits a startled gasp.

Before she can complain, he sinks to his knees before her, pressing wet kisses on the inside of her leg from the top of her high socks to the inside of her hip. He lingers here, pressing his face into the crevice between cunt and leg. He can feel the heat off her core, wet and wanting. Savoring the feeling, he groans against her skin sending low rumbles through her. She bucks against him.

“Please…” She begs again.

Rugan ignores her pleas, swapping to the other leg to plaster it with kisses. At the top of her thigh, he sucks the skin into his mouth until he leaves a mark. Moaning openmouthed while she watches him, she doesn’t fight it this time. She would curse him tomorrow on the road, but at least his name would still be on her lips. He changes thighs, sucking a matching welt into the soft flesh of the other leg.

“Please Rugan, just touch me, I can’t take it.” Sanya whimpers, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. She tries desperately to roll her hips into him but he holds her down.

He gives in now, nosing through her wet curls. A quick flick of his tongue across her swollen clit sends a wave of pleasure through her. With a breathy moan, she grabs him by the back of the hair, forcing his face into her cunt. She locks her legs over his shoulder and places her free hand behind her for leverage.

Rugan obeys, eagerly lapping up the pooling slick from her folds. His nose presses against her clit, earning him ragged moans. Her thighs tighten around his head and he wraps his hands over them to keep her from locking him too tightly in place. He places his tongue flat against her entrance, licking an agonizingly slow trail up to her clit and ending with a quick flick. She bucks suddenly against him with a loud gasp, sending her juices dribbling down his chin.

“More...” She sobs, desperately pressing his face against her.

He slides one hand up from her thigh, tracing his fingertips across the soft skin of her legs. Her skin prickles and she sighs at the softness of the touch. His hand comes to rest at her apex, his thumb pressed over her nub. With his tongue over her entrance, he slowly traces matching circles over her folds and clit, not yet willing to give her what he knows she wants.

“...you bastard…” Sanya whines breathlessly as she clenches around nothing.

Rugan smirks, plunging his tongue into her. He groans as her slick coats his tongue and he feels the subtle flutter of her wanting walls.

“Gods….yes…” She throws her head back, moaning loudly and grinding against his face. His cock twitches at the thought of being inside of her and he loses himself in her cunt, grunting loudly as he laps her wetness up. His thumb flicks quick ghosting touches over the tip of her clit while his hips rut mindlessly into nothing.

“Please…please…I need…” She chokes out broken cries, unable to form the right words.

He knows what she needs. Rugan pulls his hand away from her clit, replacing it with his mouth. He folds his tongue to cradle her clit, sucking at it hungrily. Deftly he rearranges the position of his arm beneath her thigh, sliding his fore and middle fingers into her. She shudders with relief at the sensation of finally being filled. He thrusts in and out of her slowly, gathering slick before he presses deeper. His fingers curl upwards, firmly stroking her walls until he finds the sweet spot.

The grip on his hair tightens as he finds it and she gasps and arches her back. Her pussy clenches tight around his digits. He picks up his pace now, flicking quick licks across her nub and thrusting his fingers firm and steady against her core.

She groans, rocking her hips into his face. Her cunt squeezing tighter and tighter around his fingers. His erection throbs painfully in his pants. Desperate, he releases her thigh, clumsily undoing the strings of his trousers while he lavishes her clit with swirling licks.

After a moment of blind fumbling, his cock springs free and so needy the cool air on his precum-soaked shaft sends a tremble through him. He palms himself for some relief, spreading precum over his shaft and pulling the foreskin back over the swollen head. The friction causes him to nearly spill then and there.

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. He pleads with himself, tightening his fist around his cock.

Rugan turns his focus back to Sanya, flicking his tongue over her clit while he pressed firmly at her core just the way he knew she liked. He needed her to come before he spilled on the floor. He needed to be inside of her. He needed her. He chokes back a sob as he sucks desperately at her nub. His fingers pick up their pace as he feels her cunt grip him tightly. Her breath hitches as her thighs flex. His vision darkens as she squeezes tightly around his head. He maintains the pace of his fingers, pressing his tongue flat across her clit.

The hand she was steading herself with jolts forward, gripping the edge of the counter for dear life as wave after wave of bliss runs through her. Rugans leans his face against her soft curls, thrusting steadily into her with his fingers until she releases her grip around his head with her legs. The blood rushes back to his head and he takes the opportunity for a cheeky lick at her cunt, startling her with a jolt of overstimulated pleasure. She pulls him back by the back of his hair, forcing him to look up at her.

He smirks up at her, with red lips and his chin smeared in her wetness.

It takes her a moment to catch her breath. She looks down at him, still lust-hazed. “Take your fucking pants off and get in that bed.” Sanya manages to gasp out as she moves her legs from over his shoulders.

“Yes, ma’am.” He teases, knowing full well how very much the term grated on her.

She releases her grip on his hair, giving him a sharp slap to his cheek. “Now,” She orders, “Before I change my mind and kick you out instead.”

Rugan stands, chuckling while she eases herself off the counter. The moment her feet touch the floor, he pulls her in for a quick kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She moans into it, enjoying the taste of herself on his lips. He places a hand behind her waist, trying to press their bodies together.

Sanya jerks back, pushing him away with a firm palm against his chest. “Don’t you dare wipe cum on my clothes right before I leave.”

“Slipped my mind, love.” Rugan smirks and kicks her abandoned boots out of his path as he saunters backward. His turgid cock jutting out from the opening of his pants and bobbing with each step.

She knew better than to believe him. The asshole had done it more than once. With a glare, she turned her attention to unlacing her bodice before he had a chance to ruin it.

Rugan kicked his boots off and haphazardly to the side, watching her intently as she pulled her laces free from their fixtures and let the bodice fall freely to the floor beneath her. He backs up towards the bed, pulling his breeches and underclothes down in one go, tossing them to the side with his boots.

Sanya follows him across the room. Her eyes trace hungrily from his throbbing erection to his smug face as she pulls her blouse off. With a wink, he pulls his shirt off and tosses it across the room.

When he reaches her low-lying bed, he sits down against the headboard. With a hand loosely around his cock, he strokes himself lazily while watching Sanya remove her layered skirts. Releasing their ties, she lets them pool to the floor where she stands before she gets into bed.

Sanya joins him on the bed, throwing a leg over his thigh to straddle him. Tenderly she brings a hand to his cheek, running her fingertips over the thin scruff. A mixture of emotions paints her face as she traces the contours of his jaw. The sadness in her eyes makes his heart ache. He opens his mouth to beg her to stay, but she catches his open lips with hers, driving the words from his mind. She moves her hands to his shoulder and she braces herself as she slides slowly onto his cock. They both groan loudly into the kiss as she adjusts to accommodate his girth.

Rugan clenches his eyes shut, gripping her tightly by her ass cheeks as she takes him to the hilt. Desperate and already too close, he holds her still. Leaning his head back against the wall, he pulls away from the kiss, savoring the relief of her wet cunt around him finally.

“Gods, you’re going to be so popular…” Rugan gasps, running his hands across the soft skin of her thighs.

With a frustrated glare, Sanya places her hand over his mouth and hisses at him, “Just shut up and fuck me. Before you ruin it, prick.”

He grimaces at his idiocy but obeys. He slides his hands to her back, wrapping one behind her waist and another at her shoulder as he thrusts up into her. She moans, leaning forward leaning her chest against his. The hand on his mouth slides to his shoulder, nails digging into the skin as she rolls her hips down to meet his thrusts. Strong arms pull her close, crushing her against him while he pumps up into her tight cunt desperately. His cock throbs and he can hold back no more. Rugan buries his face against her neck as the muscles of his core tighten. “I…” He whimpers against her skin.

“Yesss…” She pants.

Rugan squeezes her tightly, holding her in place as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. With a final thrust, he cries out loudly as he spills inside of her. His grip on her slackens. His hands slide across her smooth skin sending delightful shivers through her.

Sanya whispers gentle kisses across his cheeks as she lifts her hips only to sink back down onto his waning erection. Their mingled fluids drip out of her and across his groin. He runs his fingers up her back and into her hair, running his nails across her scalp. She moans, arching back into his touch while he tries to memorize the sight of her spread across him. His chest aches and he pulls her in, kissing her deeply.

♦ ♦ ♦

Cleaned enough, Rugan lays on his back with Sanya tucked against the side of him. “I'll make something of myself.” He whispers into her hair, tracing patterns into the bare skin of her back.

“I know you will," she murmurs into his neck. He feels a smile form, pressed against his skin, and knows immediately that she’s thought of something dumb.

“Well then, out with it.” He braces himself for a joke.

“It's bad.”

“It always is.”

She hits him playfully but shares her joke anyway. “You're going to make everyone Ru the day they ever met you.”

He shakes his head. “How long have you been holding onto that one?”

“Ten years, give or take.”

“With jokes like that maybe it is a good thing you are leaving.” He scoffs. But the flippancy doesn’t stop how much the realization hurts.

♦ ♦ ♦

Midmorning shines through the battered shutters. Rugan watches dustmotes float in the streaks of light as he lazily traces the space where Sanya had laid next to him. True to her word she had left before sunrise without fuss. Rugan cursed himself for not being able to stop her. Drunk on the afterglow of her, he had slept peacefully deep and hadn't noticed as she got out of bed, bathed, and went to meet her caravan with her life on her back.

Now he was left with only the consequences of who he was: unwanted, alone, poor… and about to be fired again. He had been due at work at least three hours ago, the final allowed error after a string of last chances from every farmer and tradesman who could still find pity for the boy who got left behind.

He needed to get the fuck out of Hilp.

[lilac-whump]

Nightmare's Shadow

Part 2- Faces of Fortune

In part two we meet most of the remaining important characters for her story, Inrissa gets closer to her goal of murder, and you get to meet Nevaeh! Trying to figure out how to introduce the important stuff without it being confusing is fun, bear with me, once we get through the intro period things get more intense emotionally and whump wise.

CW: slavery, lady whump, thats about it this is content wise a more mild installment, mostly introducing characters and stuff

Part 2- Faces of Fortune

Part One

Inrissa leaned against the frost covered tree trunk, tilting her head to have a clear view of the meeting in progress without leaving her place of concealment. Her breath frosted in the air.

Six weeks at the Aren Glade, building trust with the Tribe- particularly their chief, the father of Absalom of the Elite Guard- were finally paying off. The Guard were finally back on land, after an extended mission at sea. Because of course they were at sea, where she couldn’t reach them for over a month.  

It didn’t look like they had had a good time, either, Inrissa noted as she took stock of the group. All of them looked exhausted, and their expressions carried every stage of grief. And one of their members hadn’t come back with them.

Prometheus Firstforged was there, his hulking frame stooped with the loss of his comrade. He was built like a bear, and adorned like a ceremonial weapons display. Everything about him, from his boots to his armor, reeked of privilege and wealth. His armor bore the Imperial Crest and, of course, the same cursed symbol emblazoned on Inrissa’s own neck. Inrissa dug her fingernails into the bark of the tree and gritted her teeth.

Absalom explained things to his father, professional and stoic, just as she would have expected from the Elite Guard’s leader and the chief's son. The smallest member of the team was perched in a tree on a high branch, goggles magnifying her eyes and a crossbow on her knee. Ling, Inrissa found the name on her memorized list of Guard members. The sniper. That left Larkspur, a middle aged human woman. And instead of the dwarf that should have been on the team, there was another woman. A half elf in elegant garb, with long pink hair and elaborate jewelry. 

Inrissa listened to Absalom’s debriefing to figure out who this girl was- she didn’t look much older than Inrissa herself, which meant she was only in her twenties. Finally, she caught a name.

Natala. Not just a name, though, but a title as well. 

Princess Natala.

Of course. Because the Elite Imperial Guard wasn’t called that because of their skill, or at least not exclusively for that. They were the literal elite. Traveling with a Princess herself. Inrissa felt her hatred of them crystallize in her chest.

The Empire was supposed to be a place of opportunity, where she could find refuge and new beginnings. And maybe it was, but so far it just hurt to see. Every ounce of good, of safety, of power, all of it she had had to take by force. To fight for with bloodshed and suffering. But these people didn’t just get security, power, and happiness. They didn’t just get a good life, the kind she wished she had. The kind she could barely dare hope for. No, they didn’t stop there.

These people just couldn’t get enough. 

—------

Four Years Previous

The girl with the red hair tried to get Inrissa to smile, but the young Tiefling stared vacantly at the floor she was cleaning. She hadn’t spoken when anyone could hear in over a year. She didn’t dare break the streak now. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” the girl with red hair knelt beside Inrissa and pulled a rag from the bucket. “Here, I’ll help you, you won’t get in trouble since you’re still working. I’m Nevaeh. What’s your name?”

Inrissa looked at the girl, Nevaeh, trying to decide what she wanted. What kind of a trick could this be? Surely it was a trick; no one would really want to talk to her, no one ever had. Not even other slaves. Even among them, she was the lowest, and she knew it. She was a Tiefling; a monster. She was bad.

Every breath reminded her what she deserved, the metal collar around her neck squeezing with every twitch of muscle. 

Nevaeh wasn’t like her; a regular servant, not even a slave. And human. And pretty. With pale skin and freckles, and long red hair in a neat braid. Her scars were few, and her smile- it must be a lie. Inrissa knew it in her gut. It wasn’t a real smile for her. It had to be some kind of trick. 

Inrissa looked back down and tried to ignore the girl. To keep working. That had to be the right answer. Unless she could get in trouble for ignoring someone? Someone who’s a real person; she should respect them. Inrissa froze, her grip tightening around the rag. What was the right answer?

“Are you okay?” Nevaeh reached out and put a hand on Inrissa’s shoulder. Inrissa felt her joints lock into place and her breath was trapped in her lungs at the touch, anticipating agony. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for silence and pain to engulf her. 

Instead, a soft hand wrapped around hers. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Navaeh whispered. “I promise.”

It was too good to be true. And nothing good in Inrissa’s life had ever been true before. But nobody had ever pretended to be nice to her like this before, either. She didn’t understand what it meant.

Inrissa nodded and pulled her hand away. It hurt to pull away, her hand itched to return to the kind touch.  But it was too risky.  

Nevaeh stayed nearby, helping with Inrissa’s work, and making the occasional soft, kind remark. For hours. 

Her presence was like cold water on a burn, soothing. Inrissa was desperate not to lose it. The evening was closing in, so before they were forced to part ways, Inrissa stopped and looked up, finally looking the other girl in the eye. 

“Inrissa,” she said. “My name…it’s Inrissa.”

Next

[twiceasfrustrating]

I posted 1,473 times in 2022

That's 770 more posts than 2021!

411 posts created (28%)

1,062 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@crazyyanderefangirlfan

@wittythreads

@property-of-diavolo

@theevilpretty1

I tagged 1,400 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#obey me - 597 posts

#obey me fanart - 420 posts

#ask - 182 posts

#twst fanart - 171 posts

#writing - 133 posts

#obey me simeon - 129 posts

#twisted wonderland - 115 posts

#anon - 92 posts

#obey me lucifer - 74 posts

#mindless aside - 64 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i'll always assume this is always done in bad faith bc literally whats the big issue with making the characters actually look their color

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hey! Anyone want a wip I will probably never finish, but it's too long to just never post? Take it and know I had plans but my dumb brain said 'no'.

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Diavolo, F!MC

Additional Tags: afab!MC (you/your), AU, yandere, blood, murder, demon summoning, very demonic Diavolo,

Summary: You were supposed to be the sacrifice, but now you have no idea what's happening...

Word Count: 2314

You should have been terrified of the darkness, of the eyes that peered at you through the shadows just beyond the circle in which you'd been spread out like a starfish and bound so tightly the ropes pulled at your joints. Maybe you were just too tired to be afraid or maybe you didn’t care what was about to happen to you; life was a series of disappointments and tragedies and it seemed it would laugh at you one last time before it kicked you to the curb.

You pulled at the ropes that kept you in place, secured by one of those many hooded figures that now lied scattered around the floor in a puddle of their own viscera and fluids you didn’t even want to think about. It smelled almost as disgusting as it looked, but the sight of someone’s head completely detached from shoulders won out in the disturbing factor.

The hulking figure framed by shadows stalked closer to you, blood dripping from his clawed fingers and monstrous fangs glistening in the light of a distant candle that was flickering its last. If there was one good thing about this situation, it was that whatever that thing was had started with everyone else so you could enjoy watching them be torn to shreds; they deserved it. Now, however, it seemed to be your turn to feel those claws and terrible teeth tear through you like wet paper. 

You closed your eyes and braced for the inevitable as that thing kneeled down beside your head, golden eyes focused solely on you. You only caught a glimpse of it before you shut out the world around you; inhumanly long limbs and too many eyes across its body to count; movements that jittered like a bird trying to keep its eye on a fox darting from here to there and bones that creaked with each twitch; black horns stained red at the base and four black wings so large that they looked as if they could swallow up the sky; black fur covered his body is all places but the red hair that ran from its head to down his spine; all the while it jingled with each motion as the golden jewelry hanging off it clattered and clanged.

Time seemed to freeze as you waited for death to claim you, but nothing came. Nothing aside from the feeling of one of your strained arms finally being able to relax as something above you snapped. You slowly blinked your eyes open, glancing upward to where the creature hovered over the other rope and swiped at it with its claw to break the binding before moving down to your legs to do the same.

Once you were free, the creature stared at you, still kneeling down as it jittered and creaked. Its hands reached toward you, placing claws against your cheeks with a kind of gentleness you could not imagine; as if you were ancient porcelain.

It opened its mouth slowly, fangs clashing together as it tried to speak in a voice so deep you felt it reverberate in your chest, “You… called…”

You laid completely motionless as its hands ventured lower, running small tears in the fabric of your clothing as it went.

"I… came…" Its main set of eyes stayed transfixed on you, but the others darted in every which way to look at the bodies scattered about, "They're… gone…"

Your throat felt dry as words refused to come, but his hands still wandered as if it was looking for something.

"Where… is... it…"

"Where is... what?" You finally manage to ask, the panic making you dizzy and brazen.

Each of his eyes focused on you again, head snapping to the side as if confused by your question, "I came… answered you… you keep me… here… I claim you…" 

You pushed your feet against the ground, trying to slide out from under the creature. The fear and shock in your eyes drew it in, making it examine and follow you more closely.

"You're… afraid…"

You didn't know what to do aside from nod and affirm its statement.

"I won't… harm you…" It reached out its bloody claw and you shirked away. It looked so hurt by your reaction.

It was only natural that prey be afraid of its predator, but the creature hadn't shown you a single shred of hostility since it arrived. If anything, it was going out of its way to be gentle with you. 

"One year… I give… you…" It drew closer yet again, this time letting its long, thick tongue roll out of its mouth and taking kitten licks at your cheek as you sat motionless in panic, "We are one… I… wait…"

Then, it stood upright in its entirety so you could see that its knees were backward as it stalked closer to one of the bodies that still lay in puddles of gore on the floor. One large, clawed hand stabbed into the torso of one of the robed figures and came out holding onto a squishy, dark red lump of meat which it proceeded to bring to its mouth. You turned away before you could see what happened next, scurrying to your feet and running as fast as you could up the stairs and through the winding corridors of the building you were in. There were moments where you thought you'd be trapped forever as you found hallways that went around in circles, but you eventually found the exit.

You cursed your luck, not knowing where you were going and having had your cellphone, wallet, and keys taken by those creeps before they'd tied you to the ground. Getting home was going to be a nightmare and a half, plus it was late so most places were going to be closed by now. Maybe you could walk into a police station and pretend to be drunk enough that they'd offer to call someone for you. Or maybe they'd stick you in a holding cell until morning so you could at least sleep indoors.

See the full post

193 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

#4

My running theory is that Yuu (player) actually is twisted in the same way as the other characters. They are the twisted version of a role that each and every fairytale has: the narrator.

Yuu is constantly standing to the side, unable to do anything but watch the events unfold and direct the audience to it. They can lead the story down a path, but they cannot be a full participant in it (they don't fight or do the twistunes -- but characters always mention that Yuu was guiding them through it).

237 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

#3

Would you write something about Mc biting the brothers? Like Mc gives them lovebites

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Main Character

Additional Tags: Play Biting, mildly suggestive, fluff

A/N: Yeah… human bites ain’t doing anything to a demon, so this is pretty much the equivalent of a puppy noming on an adult finger before the teeth come in.

Lucifer

Oh? Is this what humans consider cute? It takes quite a bit of bravery to think one can get away with something like that, especially with a demon like Lucifer. Perhaps he should teach them a lesson, one that will teach them exactly what it means to be bitten. There's no need to squirm now, he's simply returning what has been given.

Mammon

Did they just bite him?!??!? What kind of form of affection is that? He was just minding his own business when they came up and sunk their teeth into him. But… if they aren't precious looking with their tiny human teeth trying to nibble at his strong demonic skin.

No, he's not blushing and secretly loving this! Why would you think that?! He's just ignoring it because they're so determined and he's nice!

….

And because he loves them and will accept any strange form of affection they have to give.

Leviathan

Moe! It's so moe when they bite him! He could die of happiness right there. More. Please bite him more and prove that he’s loved so deeply. He can’t believe how much he loves them biting him. He loves it even more when they kiss the spots they’ve bitten. He is not going to make it to tomorrow. He’s going to die right there and there will be a smile on his face when they find his body.

Satan

What are they doing? He is so confused it isn’t even funny. This is supposed to be romantic in what context, exactly? Sweet, sweet MC, these are things that are far more romantic than biting the object of your affections. Satan would be more than happy to give them a hands-on demonstration of just a few.

Asmodeus

Is so offended when MC bites him. He works hard to take care of himself and now they are threatening to break his skin and give him scars??? He doesn’t care if it’s a form of endearment, he’s not amused! He needs to take care of this before he's left with an ugly mark he can never get rid of.

Oh, don't pout like that. He's sorry. Come here and let him show you much better ways to let someone know you love them. 💕

Beelzebub

Are they hungry? Why would they bite him otherwise? It's a form of affection? Oh… he kind of gets it, if only because he thinks of it the same way he bites into good food. Except they aren't trying to eat him… are they?

He thinks the biting is sweet once he understands it. He won't bite back (have you seen his teeth?) but he understands the love in the action. He adores his little human so much. They can nibble all they want. 😊

Belphegor

Beel bites harder. The way they do it is almost kind of cute. Why isn't it? Because all biting him did was make him want to return the favor and nip at parts of them until they are covered in marks.

Don't fret. They can always get revenge and add a couple more to him.

419 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

#2

Hello! Could you plz do where the Obey Me brothers react to their mate (MC) getting hurt and them getting protective over their mate? Its ok if no. :)

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer, Mamm, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Main Character

Additional Tags: fluff, violence, demons being demons, mates

A/N: Bet you thought I was never going to do this. Bet you forgot you even sent it. Well, the truth is I just got stuck and have been staring at the wip for way too long. 😔

Since you said mate, I am presuming something deeper than an s/o. Something deep and primal that tickles their instincts and base nature.

Lucifer

Politics are a nasty thing, especially between demons. The fact that Lucifer chose a human mate of all possible candidates made it even worse. You were already facing backlash simply being the exchange student from the human world, but now you were a giant target for the demons that hated Lucifer as well.

You can't go on social media without seeing hundreds of messages about your lowly human status, your weakness, how well you must have trained Lucifer, or comments about how easy it would be to break you in two. It's a minefield of harassment, the kind that Lucifer warns you not to look at. You keep doing it though. You really don't have a choice given how it's shoved in your face.

Eventually, he has enough and takes your phone to stop you from looking at the disgusting comments being flung at you. The pure hurt and agony in your face tells a story of just how terrible some of the comments are.

He will scoop you up into his arms and refuse to let you go as he sits you down in his lap. He will only ever be this openly soft and gentle with you, his mate. He will stroke your head and play an album to help you go to sleep. So many of his albums are cursed and this one is no exception. It puts you to sleep, finally able to take your mind off of all those terrible rumors and attacks.

While you sleep, he will have to look into who has been upsetting you so much. It may be time to remind the entire Devildom why he is the first lord and that attacking his mate is the same as attacking him; a mistake that will only be made once.

Mammon

Tripped going up the stairs? Broke your arm falling off your bike? Got a paper cut? You have a nasty black eye? It doesn't matter what the injury is, he will be there the moment you are even mildly hurt. He kisses each place that hurts with reverence, willing away the pain you may feel. His devotion to you is unwavering and complete.

No injury is too small for his undivided attention as he takes you into his arms and wraps you up like his most precious treasure. You are his mate, absolutely perfect. He would drop to his knees just to worship you the way he should.

In his care, you will never truly be hurt. He would never allow you to be.

Leviathan

Being a demon's mate is special. Their devotion belongs to you in its entirety the moment you become their mate, and Levi is no exception. He’s not usually outgoing, preferring to stay by himself with just you as company and making passive-aggressive comments about normies he doesn’t like, but when someone shoves you aside walking down the street? You’ve never seen Levi get so angry.

His hands are on the other person’s throat near instantly, the growl coming from his throat reminding you of the fearsome creature he really is. It’s so easy to forget because he’s usually on the more shy and quiet side, but he is the admiral of hell’s navy and that position comes with expectations.

No matter how you plead and beg for him to maintain his rationality, your words don’t reach him. His mate has been insulted and shoved aside like trash, and he can’t stand it. He is envy and want by his very nature, but he doesn’t have to want for you. You are already his, and that which is his should never be slighted. You’ve seen the passion with which he defends his fictional favorites, haven’t you? If the person that shoved you is lucky, they will know how hard it is to walk away when they have several broken bones. If they aren’t, well, death would be a mercy for them.

He expects praise after he’s defended you. He did good, right? You always seem to like the overly protective love interests in the anime you watch. Surely you can’t admire those traits more in a fictional man than you do your own mate, right? He’d hate to envy someone who isn’t real.

Satan

Ah! You’ve gone and gotten yourself hurt, haven’t you? It’s okay, he’ll take care of it. There isn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do if you came to him with a scraped-up knee (or worse). Even the most major of injuries is treated with a straight face as he patches you up like all you did was stub your toe.

His wrath is for fools and those who do not deserve to exist. He hasn’t a spark in him directed at you or your own clumsiness. Although, he may find the exact piece of furniture you hurt yourself on and throw it into a woodchipper.

It doesn’t matter though. You are safe for now and you are his and he will keep you safe from even your own two left feet.

Asmodeus

Oh, darling… You should know better by now than to be so careless with who you speak to. Demons are nasty, double-speaking creatures that don’t concern themselves with who they hurt. You are his mate, though, and hurting you is unforgivable. People often forget that there are many types of lust in this world; the kind he has for you and the kind he has for those who make you cry.

See the full post

533 notes - Posted February 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Demon Marriage

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, Barbatos

Additional Tags: GN!MC, no dialogue, marriage, poetic language

Summary: Marriage is something done across all of the realms, but it means something different for all of them. For demons, marriage is more than a promise; it is a ritual with long last effects that change who you are.

A/N: I had an idea… I framed it as a story unfolding between all of our demon boys because I couldn't decide who to use and I didn't want to be 100% vague.

Word Count: 1211

The ceremonies are ancient and traditions are followed to the very last letter. For demons, marriage isn't merely a promise of 'til death do you part, but a contract forged in blood and carried past the bounds of time. No matter how many times you or they may pass and leave this life behind, you will find each other in the next; two souls weaved together as one reaching out for the other until they meet once again. But, of course, such a strong bond requires the deepest and oldest of magics to forge it; that is the basis of demonic marriage.

The ceremonies were never made for humans but you participate all the same, pushing yourself to your limits as each action shows devotion, shows that you two are far beyond lovers, shows that you and he are already one soul between two bodies.

Lucifer

He presses his lips against each of your knuckles in turn. It's not part of the ceremony, but the way his eyes glance up try to assure you that everything will be alright. Even as your face is painted with nerves, Lucifer is calm. He's been waiting far too long to find you among the sea of souls; to find the match that would be his. Go as slow as you need, but – as one of those many human idioms goes – he will not allow you to develop cold feet and leave him at the altar just before he finally has the soul he's always wanted in his grasp.

Mammon

You're busy speaking to everyone who had gathered as one of your witnesses when he grips your hand tightly in his own, feigning confidence even as you feel him tremble. Without allowing you another moment of distraction, he tugs you away from the onlookers who gathered to witness the melding of two souls. This part is done alone, and Mammon doesn't have the patience to wait or let others stand in his way. He drags you away from everyone else, the very edges of his ears flushed as he pulls you away from all prying eyes. For just this one moment, you will be his and no others. All of your attention shall be on him and his everything will be focused solely on you.

Leviathan

He comes to a stop when everything around you has gone quiet; not even the wind to whisper in your ears as it fails to blow. This place is sacred to demons, where magic pools and gathers in the realm itself only to flow out and between each of the others. In this place everything, nothing, eternity, and entropy all meet and wrap around one another. In this place, you let all of existence that has been, is, and shall be see you and Levi come together. Hesitation twinkles in his eyes, the doubt that you truly understand what you are agreeing to bubbling up to the surface. You, against the rites and rituals, reach out to cup his cheek in your hand, smiling at him and speaking to begin the ceremony.

Satan

There are words to be recited, inviting the magic of the realm to reach deep into your bones and coil around your everything until it pulls you apart and puts you back together. To have one's soul rendered, torn, mauled, mixed with another's, and stitched back together is the first step; to feel the white-hot passion of his wrath and the calm cool fire of his discipline brush up against your very being and leave marks everywhere it touches. It's painful. As much as you thought you had prepared, there was no preparation for being broken down from so deep inside. Even so, you must continue.

Asmodeus

Your face burns up as you stare deep into Asmo's eyes. His beautiful smile is full of admiration as he struggles to hide the bitter agony you know he is also feeling as the same pain rushes through him. Only for someone he loved as much as himself would he tolerate such suffering. He raises his hand, fingers shaking as he musters through the pain. You meet his hand with your own. Then he moves his hand and you copy him. Again, he moves and you copy. Your head tilts to the side and he matches you. His leg moves back and so does yours. For each move one of you makes the other repeats.

Beelzebub

You aren't sure when it happens, but your movements stop being a simple mimicry of his own and begin to match his in time. Your body feels heavy, like it is suddenly much bigger; so powerful that it may crush you from the sheer intensity, but it doesn't. Beel's body matches yours beat for beat, holding you together as his eyes smile down at you. He matches strength with grace, then vice versa again and again until you can no longer tell which of you is keeping the other from falling apart.

Belphegor

Your mirror dance ends as your fingers intertwine with his, both of you pressing against each other, your souls trying to return to one another despite being trapped inside all too mortal flesh. In him, you have lost yourself. In him, you have found everything. Yet, somehow, you know that you still have more to discover. Wherever he is, you shall find him because he is you and you are him. Two made one across the limited space of the universe; ancient stardust melding together after millions of years drifting do far apart. Both yourselves and each other and something new. He grabs you by the hand and brings you back to the end of you and he; the beginning of your now.

Diavolo

When the two of you present yourselves in front of each of your witnesses, there is a pregnant silence. It's been a long time since a ruler of the Devildom tied their soul to another, and the first time ever it had been to a human. No one was sure it would work, but with your heritage and powers they took the gamble. And, as you stand in front of everyone else for them to behold what you and he have become, you know that you will stand before them time and time again. Perhaps in different forms, different faces and experiences, but always as the other half of their future king.

Barbatos

He's a patient demon, as one should be when all of time is laid bare before him. He staves off the tedium by looking through doorway after doorway into the past. Always a different dance, but the same partner who knows exactly how he plans to move. It's a rhythm neither can forget no matter how much time passes or how much the world around them changes. Even when you change the tempo, he still moves with you. He can feel you somewhere in the distance; a soul adrift and wandering. You'll find your way back to another life when you're ready. You will be you all the same, no matter the changes. And, when it is time, he and you will find each other. You and he shall not be yourselves, but something beyond what a singular person ever could be.

619 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[theoddshq]

FREYA AURELIA (jmadelaine petsch fc) the odds are in your favor! Please report to your nearest Capitol Agent to be prepped for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!  

ooc

Alias/Age/Pronouns/Timezone: andie / 32 / she/her / estTriggers: [REDACTED]If you had to describe your muse as a canon Hunger Games character, or mix, who would you compare them to and why? Perhaps a mix of johanna and glimmer tbh, anger and beauty and ambition and disillusionment all wrapped into one person. Someone who believed in the games with everything she had, believed in the capitol and the glamour and glory of it all, until she lost something precious and now she is hovering between who she knew she was and who she is becoming. Anything else? nada!

basics

[MADELAINE PETSCH, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER] The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes FREYA AURELIA, a DISTRICT TWO TRIBUTE. Word around The Capitol is that they’re FIERCE & CONFIDENT but can also be CONFLICTED & RUTHLESS. According to sources, they’re 22 and were once described as a wildfire burning out of control, the glint of sunlight on steel, the blinding flash of a camera bulb, comfort found in all the wrong places. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

biography

Freya was the seventh child born into her family, it was an absurdly large family and only remotely possible in a district like one or two. Freya’s birth however came when her mother was older and sometimes things go wrong. Without her mother around freya was raised by committee, her older siblings didn’t have time to waste, not really, so freya was instilled with a practicality she rarely actually displayed. People liked to talk, they used to say she was spoiled, had wanted for nothing and it wasn’t quite true. Freya hadn’t wanted for much but that was because she had the hand me downs of six siblings, nothing was new, nothing was hers and hers alone. Why buy anything new when anything she’d ever needed had already been purchased and used before? Freya was envious of other well to do families around her, those with one or two children perhaps, whose dresses and shoes were immaculate and whose toys did not come scuffed or broken or missing pieces. It was silly to be so envious when she had what she needed but freya was born to covet the things her siblings had reveled in that were not hers to experience but she always refused to name that thing mother.

Mr. rost, her father, was the best smithy in the district and he tried to teach freya that hard work, patience and determination was the way to achieve and succeed. Freya was full of that potential when she was little, when she loved to watch her father in the sweltering forge, pounding steel into submission. She’d watch the sparks this process created, she could see the ripple of heat in the light and she always admired the finished product. She was always surprised that her hulk of a father with his enormous, ugly hands could produce weapons of such beauty and finesse. It took her a really long time to realize she fit into that category too. 

It would have been easy to take up the artistry, to fall into the family business as it was. But even though she appreciated what her father did, for a lot of reasons, she was not built to be covered in grease and soot and ash, to have her hands be torn up and calloused and rough. She didn’t find any joy in the process she knew by heart to make a sword but she loved holding one, feeling the balance, burying the blade into the trunk of a tree. She liked the feeling of power in her hands, the vibration in her frame from impact, how strong it made her body. Of course she wasn’t allowed to play with the products but there was always an abundance of ones rejected by clients, ones just the right size and weight for her because he made them for the training center in the center of the district, the one where the careers for the hunger games trained. 

She was eight when she asked her dad to put her in the training school, but all he could see was his baby daughter with her pretty red hair and her soft skin and her small hands. He didn’t see her for what she was or what she could be, he only saw a baby and she couldn’t accept that. She went as far as trying to show him that she could hold and swing a sword but he only got angry that she’d played with the swords in the first place. He wanted to keep her pretty and pristine and on a pedestal she had no interest in perching on, she was not a doll and she’d prove it to him. She packed a bag one night, walked in the dark to one of her sisters homes, and entered the training academy that morning. Her father never seemed able to forgive her for it, but she was the one with the grounds to hold a grudge. 

Freya was popular at the training center, she was an excellent liar and she got prettier as she got older too. It wasn’t easy to excel in the academy, it was full of a few dozen kids, varying ages and backgrounds, who all wanted the same thing for different reasons. There were no friends to be made in that kind of environment but sometimes there were allies and freya found a few but more than that she found someone to rely on, someone to love. She knew better, the teachers had always warned them that every attachment they had was a tether, an anchor, a weakness. But who could keep them self from falling in love? 

Eventually freya was the right age to volunteer but the promise of more time with the boy she loved was too intoxicating and she faltered, she didn’t volunteer and her classmates started to think she was a coward, lost her nerve and to get back the respect she had already earned once demanded too much. She made enemies but she didn’t leave the academy, she continued to train, to gain strength, to rise in the ranks if only because her biggest competition kept actually volunteering, except the boy she loved. The other students began to grow resentful but their hostility only served to sharpen her senses and skills, she began to feel untouchable. Freya flew too close to the sun and just like icarus her wings burned when

Freya should have known that the resentments building against her were going to have consequences, but her unending arrogance got the better of her and the bubble of love she was in clouded her judgement to the point of ruin. The reaping arrived and still freya knew in her heart that she’d make it through, she and the boy she loved. But then the worst possible thing happened, her name was called, she’d been reaped. But even though herh eart hammered in her chest she waited for the familiar sound of “i volunteer as tribute.” from the crowd. But in a sea of kids who always volunteered there was nothing but silence, a condemnation of freya ringing out in the square. On legs buckling with every step she walked toward the stage, a walk she’d dreamed of for years and then dreaded and then ignored. She stood, eyes drifting to the boy who had her heart, to her large family, to the greedy and vindictive eyes of her peers from the training center believing justice had been served. 

Another name was called, the other tribute and freya couldn’t comprehend anything anymore, the world was deafeningly silent and yet there was a buzzing in her ears that was bordering on painful. She was taken to a room where a few of her siblings came to say goodbye, hug after hug from nieces and nephews, pats on the back when they all knew she’d been condemned. But they all thought she wanted this, that she’d threatened her classmates into remaining quiet if she was reaped, that she had chosen this and they weren’t wrong entirely. And then she had to wonder if she still wanted this now that it was happening anyway. 

The boy she loved rushed into the room, wrapped her up in his arms and the world melted away again. She tried to memorize everything she could about him, his scent, the curl of his hair, the dimple in his left cheek when he smiled at her. Their embrace was pained, he tried to apologize for not volunteering in time but she told him no, that this was better, that he should live. Selfishly she asked him to wait because even now she assumed she could win, she could come back to him and they could live happily ever after. They said goodbye and she felt lighter as she boarded the train. Standing at the door she and the other tribute were waving goodbye to the district but something in the back of the crowd caught her attention, it was her lover, her classmates approaching him from behind, one of them sinking a knife into his ribs. And then she heard deafening screaming, not realizing it was her own voice screeching into the crowd as peacekeepers forced her into the train and the doors closed as the train sped off toward the capitol. 

Everything since has been a blur but maybe she owes her classmates a thank you. In the hours since the reaping she has gone through a whirlwind of emotions and finally has arrived at anger that provides inspiration. She WILL win, if only to return to two and get her revenge, rub it in the faces of her enemies.

writing sample

[REDACTED]

stats

Deceive - 1

Fight - 3

Lore (knowledge) - 2

Notice - 1

Physique - 2

Provoke - 3

Rapport - 1

Resourcefulness - 2

Stealth - 2

Will -3 

extras

Pinterest

[mistress-of-words]

Oh hell no 🤮

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 7 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Chapter 7 is here!!

Title: Succession Chapter 7

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language 

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter 7

You awoke from your nap feeling rested.  You didn’t open your eyes just yet and you let the hangover of sleep fade away.  Extra sleep was just what you needed to relax from the last 24 hours.  Or had it been a few days?  A week?  You had no idea what day it was, let alone the exact time.  You didn’t wear a wristwatch and the only thing you had to tell time was your iPhone...which was probably all broken to hell amongst the crash.   You sighed sleepily before being aware of a presence behind you.  The dip in the bed along with the knowledge that Heisenberg had locked the door behind him startled you.  

You turned over with a gasp to find Heisenberg on the other side of the bed.  He sat lounging back on his pillow that was propped up against the headboard.  His coat and buttoned up shirt had been discarded, his tight undershirt the only thing covering his torso.  His hat, gloves, and sunglasses were gone as well.  He puffed on his cigar, his left leg lying straight among the covers, and his right foot flat on the bed.  He rested his right hand on his knee in between puffs of his cigar.  He looked perfectly content and relaxed.

“Sleep well, pussycat?” he asked after expelling a cloud of cigar smoke into the air.  He looked down at you and smiled knowingly as he rested his arm atop his knee.  You relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief.

“You scared me.  I thought you had gone somewhere in the factory…” you responded, laying your head back on the pillow.

“I did...two hours ago.  You’ve been asleep for a while…”

“Really?” you murmured.  The only clock was on Heisenberg’s nightstand and you couldn’t see it past his hulking body.  You were so disoriented from not knowing the time that you had no idea which way was up.  

“I didn’t want to wake you.  You look so fucking beautiful as you sleep,” Heisenberg complimented with a coy smile on his face.  You rolled your eyes and brought the blanket further up your body, shivering slightly.

“I’m cold…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself.  There wasn’t a fire burning in the fireplace yet and the cold from the outside seemed to slide its way into the factory.  You were wearing a long sleeved shirt with a pair of drawstring pants, but the cold still managed to seep in.  Goosebumps rose all over your body and you trembled visibly.

“Come here…” Heisenberg said, putting his cigar in the ashtray on his nightstand.  You shimmied back against him, desperate for warmth.  He slid down under the blanket and pulled you to him, your back against his front.

“Mmmm...you’re trembling…” Heisenberg whispered against your ear.  His arms held you tighter and you slowly began to relax back into him.  You hadn’t been held in so long and, despite the circumstances, it felt good to be held.  His body temperature was warm.  His left arm was around your shoulders while the other wrapped around your waist and held you close.  It felt nice...really, really nice…

You were unable to stop yourself when you slowly rolled your ass back against him.  Heisenberg’s arms tightened around your body and he let out a breathy chuckle.  “Do you know what you’re doing there, pussycat?” he asked gruffly.

You kept your eyes closed, bit your lower lip, and rolled your ass back again.  The memory of earlier that day came back to you.  His hips trapping yours against the wall and feeling his cock through his pants...it made you wet again.  It was obvious the two of you had an undeniable attraction to each other.  Yes, you were locked away in his quarters in the factory and yes, he was not allowing you to call for help from the outside world...but god dammit, this man riled you up in ways you had never felt before.

Heisenberg removed his arm from around your waist and slowly slid his hand to your hip.  His fingers squeezed you and pulled you closer.  You heard him moan under his breath and it made you moan softly.  Heisenberg chuckled as his hand went to your thigh and pulled your leg aside.  Heat crept up your face as his index finger and thumb caught the string of your pants and slowly pulled the knot free.  You lifted your head from the pillow to look down just as his hand slid down the front of your pants.

“Karl…” you moaned, tilting your head back.  Heisenberg growled and started kissing along your neck. You shivered at the feel of his full lips against your flesh.  His hot breath hit your skin before you felt his teeth lightly nipping at you.  His index and middle finger spread your pussy lips and pushed lower.  You arched your back and rolled your ass against his groin.  At the feel of your wetness, he moved his fingers to your clit and started to rub.

“God damn, Y/N…” Heisenberg moaned, his lips at your ear, “...you’re so fucking wet…”

You lifted your hand and moved it behind his head, running your fingers through his hair.  His breath in your ear made your skin erupt in goosebumps.  You bucked your hips against his hand while his fingers continued to rub you.  Turning your head towards him, he let you roll onto your back, your head lying on his opposite arm while he continued to finger your wet cunt.

“I haven’t been touched like this in a long time…” you panted as you looked up into his eyes.  He smiled down at you, lips hovering over yours, his brown and gray hair framing his face.  You lifted your head in order to kiss him, but he pulled back, chuckling at your desperate need for his lips.  “Karl...please…” you whimpered.

“Not yet…” he murmured, his eyes gazing into yours, “...I’ll kiss you soon...in due time.”  You whimpered once again, bucking your hips against his hand.  “And no cumming…” he added, “...do not cum until I tell you to cum…”

You cursed under your breath and lifted your left hand to the headboard, gripping one of the railings.  Your right hand wrapped around his wrist as you tried to buck yourself harder, ravenous for more of his fingers.  “Sshhhhhh…” Heisenberg whispered as he pressed his lips to your forehead, “...be a good little pussycat…”

You gripped the headboard railing harder as your thighs spread wider.  Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes.  His fingers tortured your clit, going from slow to fast circles, and going from soft to hard pressure and back again.  Karl Heisenberg was driving you fucking insane.

“When I make you cum, I want you to scream my name…” Heisenberg ordered, moving his fingers faster, circling your clit with your wetness, “...scream my name, Y/N...let me hear it....”

Your left hand flew down to his wrist, joining your right hand, desperate to assist his ministrations.  You bucked against his hand, the overwhelming pleasure building.  Your thighs were splayed wide and you moved your hips faster, hopelessly chasing your release.

“Karl...Karl...oh fuck...Karl…” you moaned.  Heisenberg chuckled softly, his tongue sliding over his lips.  His eyes bored holes into yours.  You took in every inch of his face...his piercing eyes, prominent nose, and full lips.  Every nerve ending in your body wanted this man.

“Good girl.  Now...cum for me.  Be a good girl and cum for me…”

You awoke from your nap with a start, sitting up straight in bed.  You looked around the room, your eyes finally coming to rest on Heisenberg.  The door to his room was opened wide and he stood leaning back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, and an amused smile on his face.

“My word, doll face,” he marveled, “that sounded like quite a nap you just had.  What, pray tell, were you dreaming about?”

Your hair was in disarray and the blanket had been kicked to the floor.  The flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks and you panicked at the thought of what you might have done or said as you slept.

“Umm...wha-what was I saying?” you asked sheepishly.  Heisenberg tossed his head back and laughed uproariously.

“You weren’t say anything...but those moans and groans...pussycat, I would sell my soul to have been able to peer into that dream…”

Your pulse calmed a bit, thankful that you weren’t calling out his name.  But that smug son of a bitch...standing there and listening to you moaning and watching you writhing on his bed...he would never let you live that down.  You let out a defeated sigh and fell back on the pillow, covering your face with your hands.

*

“You can sit down over there,” Heisenberg said, motioning to a rusted metal chair across the room.  You pulled it closer to a table and set your book down, making yourself comfortable.  You watched as he pulled a stool up to a table away from where you were sitting, taking a seat and beginning to rifle through stacks of papers.

Heisenberg could tell that you were getting stir crazy locked away in his private quarters, so he gave you the decision to accompany him to his office as he conducted his work.  When you asked what he was working on, he responded with a curt “none of your business.”  You glared at him, but decided that a change in scenery would be better than being cooped up in the same room again.

You opened your book and began to read.  Soon you were lost in your story, the only sounds being distant clanging of metal and chains and sporadic machines chugging along.  It provided nice ambient background noise and allowed you to concentrate on reading.

The sudden loud sound of a propeller blade made you jump with a start.  You looked over at Heisenberg and heard him sigh with impatience.

“SHUT UP!” he yelled loudly.

“That wasn’t me!” you spat back at him, giving the back of his head an incredulous look.

“I wasn’t talking to you…” he muttered, continuing to write on a piece of paper.  Well, who the fuck were you talking to, you thought, it’s only me and you in the room!

Another twenty minutes passed and the two of you were quiet and contentedly toiling away at your respective projects when the loud propeller sound rang out again.  Heisenberg stood up fast, his stool falling over onto the floor.  He marched to an opening in the floor next to your table.

“I SAID SHUT UP!!!” he yelled down into the hole.  As if his outburst never happened, Heisenberg walked back to his table, uprighted his stool, and sat back down.  You looked from the floor to Heisenberg and back again.

“What’s down there?” you asked softly, not wanting to piss him off any more than that noise already did.

“You don’t want to know,” he answered, continuing to work on the task before him, keeping his back to you.

“I kinda do…” you said, turning your body towards his direction.

You watched as Heisenberg slowly lifted his head and dropped his pencil to the table.  “I can drop you down there if you want to find out…” he growled, keeping his back to you.  

His gravelly voice shut you up.  You remembered the array of bodies that were in this place...god only knows what could be down there.  Turning your attention back to your book, you kept your mouth shut.

After an hour of reading and you taking in the views around the room, and that included Heisenberg, the man finally finished his tasks and turned to you.

“The sun will be setting soon,” Heisenberg said, “what do you say I make us dinner and we take it outside and enjoy the fresh air for a bit?”

You looked over and stared at him in slight disbelief.  Dinner and watching the sunset?  This man was a complete enigma.  Just yesterday, he locked you away in a cold, dank room and then brought you something warm to eat.  Earlier today, he was yelling at you for walking off to pet the Duke’s horse and the next he was giving you chocolate.  One minute, he had you against the wall with his hand on your throat, the next he was grinding against you and leaning in to kiss you…

Nope...you stopped yourself from thinking about anything remotely sexual about this man.  You chalked your feelings up to Stockholm Syndrome and the trashy romance novels you had read over the years.  No way were you going to fall down that rabbit hole.  But the thought of dinner did make your stomach growl...and taking in more of the beautiful mountains did sound like a better view than anything in the factory.

“I would like that very much…”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

🤔 I’m gonna try this. The boyfriend and girlfriend meet a new friend that want to them for fun until they meet tricky. Little do they know that they new friend is actually tricky distance niece and the reader didn’t know that his uncle is actually tricky.

Just want try others characters have some family members soon but I want to tried it.

Ah this was a little confusing to read at first but hope this is what you wanted!

BF and GF meet Reader, w/ all three discovering that Reader's uncle is Tricky.

........

Somewhere in the Nevada desert, you met Keith and Charlotte, and shared his passion for singing.

You were eager to show off your own skills, so you two had a singing challenge.

But halfway through it, Tricky emerged from a nearby crevice, clutching his signature stop sign weapon.

He’s immediately hostile to your two new friends, but for some reason doesn’t try attacking you. Instead he just...stares at you, as if he recognizes you.

When you question him, he hands you a shattered picture frame he kept in his cloak.

You stare at it for some time, seeing it was a younger you beside a man dressed in clown attire, his face painted white along with a big blue smile.

“Who is that, [y/n]?” Keith questions.

"Oh! This is..or was my Uncle Hoffy. He was famous in the circus as Tricky the....wait...” You look up at the hulking zombie clown, eyes widening. "You're my uncle?!"

“This scary demon clown is your uncle?!” Keith gasps.

"Wow...what a turn of events.." Charlotte muses.

Everyone’s shocked all around, but Tricky just laughs and says “UNCLE TRICKY IS REBORN!! NICE/NEPHEW FOUND!!!” Before sweeping you into a hug.

Keith and his gf are just flabbergasted--this murderous clown that turned into a giant demon and nearly killed them both...is completely calm and happy around you.

You on the other hand were delighted (once you got over the shock) to see him again. You haven't heard from your uncle ever since he joined the organization that was hunting down a dangerous assassin.

This wasn't how you expected to reunite...but you'll take it.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Vampire in a Bottle (Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC

Prompt: cursed object

Warning: Smut!!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 7,251

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister​/@lordsisterxotome (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: I legit expected this to be 5 maybe 6 pages long. Was not expecting it to end up being 15 whole ass pages long.

       She’d heard stories about creatures tied to objects, bound to them my wizards or witches or priests. Everyone had. The djinni of the lamp, silkies and their skin, even myths of demons lending their bloodlust to legendary swords. 

       The vampire stuck in the wine bottle though, now that was a first.

       It had come as a surprise when MC had first stumbled upon the mansion on one of her hikes outside the city. She must’ve hiked the same path a hundred times and never had she caught so much as a glimpse of the sprawling estate, even if it was only a shell of its obvious former glory now. Had she taken a wrong path somewhere? Drifted away in her thoughts too much and unintentionally wandered away into the bushes? Looking back the way she’d come, she realized that no, she hadn’t veered in any way from her usual path, which made the sudden appearance of the mansion especially strange. 

       It was quite the complex, all graceful arches and columns, reds and whites. A massive fountain topped with a headless statue centered an overgrown path, and even from her vantage point still a ways away from the building, she could tell that what was once a manicured garden lay behind the mansion. It was like something out of a fairy tail; she wondered about it’s story, who lived here and what events had taken place within its walls. Now, the place was positively decrepit, still somewhat majestic, but old and creepy nonetheless.

       So, doing what any normal person would do, MC thought, ‘Very old and creepy,’ and turned back the way she’d come. There was no way in hell she was going to wander in like some airheaded protagonist out of a horror movie and get pestered or possessed or who knows what else. Nope. She was going to choose life today.

       It seemed her fears about the place being somewhat supernatural were true though, because a few minutes later, when she was sure she was about to step back onto a more familiar leg of the path, she emerged right on the same cliff overlooking the estate as before. The mansion sat there expectantly and she almost imagined it was saying, “Oh, you’re back.”

       Blinking, she stared for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head, soft mutters of “no, no, no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she turned away and rubbed her eyes. Her heart was beating a little faster now, sweat forming on the back of her neck. This was too strange. She’d hiked this path a hundred times and there had never, ever been a mansion here before. Furthermore, there was no way she was going around in circles. She knew the area and its trails well enough to have been able to find her way even if she did get lost.

       Pulling out her phone, MC tried and failed to find her location on the google maps, cursing as the words ‘No Signal’ replaced the usual friendly bars in the left-hand corner. Shoving the device back into her pocket, she sighed and stomped back down the path. This time she paid attention to familiar landmarks, carefully retracing her steps. For a second, she thought for sure she was in the clear, that she would come out on the path and walk away to forget this ever happened as some strange hallucination.

       Apparently that was not to be the case today though as, lo and behold, when she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, there she was again, the mansion laid out and waiting before her. She could practically feel it rolling its eyes at her this time. 

       Collapsing on the leaves and pine needles, she laughed breathlessly. No way was this happening. Why today of all days? Why couldn’t the universe just let her keep having her normal days without throwing in a mansion that appeared and disappeared like a ghost ship too? She felt like she was going crazy. 

       After a few minutes of deep breathing and burying her face in her knees, trying to rub the image of the mansion away, she rose to her feet. This place wanted her to...do something? Fine. She had a feeling it would just keep making her walk in circles until she came inside. Best case scenario it really was just an old mansion and she would find another way back to the trail after having searched the property. Worst case scenario? She was dragged to the underworld by whatever vengeful ghosts might inhabit the place. No problem, right?

       Her legs felt weak as she picked her way down the cliffside, slowly getting closer and closer to the hulking abode. The grass on the vast lawn was so overgrown she had a hard time making her way across it, nearly tripping a couple of times when it got caught around her calves and ankles. As she got closer, she started to realize just how massive the place really was. So similar to most of the castles and palaces and royal mansions she’d visited on trips, whoever had built this place and lived here had gone for extravagance, a show of wealth, but something about it was quiet in a way that made it seem like it was meant to be tucked away back here. It would have been beautiful if the situation were different and she wasn’t so freaked out.

       On the bright side, at least the weather wasn’t cloudy like these kinds of places usually were in books and movies, and she didn’t have the feeling anyone was watching her. It was a sunny day, the sky blue and dotted here and there with the occasional cloud. It was a small comfort, but comfort nonetheless as she faced the beast.

       Taking a minute, MC just stood there in front of the mansion, staring up at broken windows and ivy covered columns and weeds poking up through the stones. “What do you want from me?” she grumbled to herself before shaking her head and taking a deep breath.

       Heavy iron rings hung on the wooden doors, their white paint peeled away to reveal the brown wood beneath. Her hand looked tiny in comparison to the ring as she grasped it, cold and dark against her skin, and pulled the door open. It grated against the floor as it opened, and she paused, tensed and waiting for something to jump out at her, for a swarm of bats or something. But nothing came and after a minute, she peered inside. Part of the roof had fallen in, allowing shafts of daylight to pierce the gloom and illuminate the grand receiving hall. Her shoes padded softly against the marble floor as she took a few steps inside, careful of the debris. A grand staircase of white stone led up to a second story and as she turned in a circle to fully take in the room MC saw more signs of wealth: giant paintings, moth-eaten tapestries, silver candlesticks nearly too tarnished to recognize. 

       A gentle breeze blew in from the open door behind her, stirring leaves across the floor and up the stairs. After another quick glance around, she crept up the staircase, brushing her fingers across the cold, stone banister as she did. Choosing to turn to her left once she was at the top of the stairs, she followed a long hallway in what she guessed was the west wing. More paintings and golden sconces decorated the walls, curtains made of dusty velvet framing smashed windows. The mansion had yet to make its next move, to give her any indication of what it wanted her to do, where it wanted her to go. It was hard to tell because everything was so old and nature had long since started reclaiming the place, but she thought she saw signs of a struggle, irregularly torn canvases and tables knocked over, their vintage contents spilled all over the floor.

       She startled, gasping, when a door at the end of the hall creaked open, a strong breeze whistling down the corridor and urging her along. MC could feel the mansion’s impatience pushing in at her from all sides, tugging at her hair and pushing at her back. Balling her fists, she gulped and creeped towards the indicated entryway, trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever she might find. 

       Her breath stuck in her throat as she took a careful look inside, surprised at the luxury and opulence that met her gaze. The chamber was so large and gilded it had to be the master bedroom. The walls and ceiling were framed in gold, the ceiling painted with some scene that belonged in a cathedral. The canopied bed had long since succumbed to moths and the forces of nature, but the size of it could have rivaled any king size bed, and the rugs, once richly colored, still retained some of their ancient plushness as she stepped into the room. Reaching out, she ran her fingers along the carved edge of a table, tracing the intricate whorls and flowers. The same signs of a struggle were here too, a sharp gash taken out of the leg of the table and old books and shattered glass lying on the floor.

       A strong gust of wind blew in from the broken window, disturbing the heavy velvet curtains and knocking an old wine bottle off the small table in front of the broken pane. She winced as the bottle hit the floor, expecting it to shatter, but instead it bounced, rolling until it stopped against her foot.

       MC blinked and bent down to pick it up, noting the strange weight inside it. There wasn’t a label and she tipped it back and forth in her palm, weighing its contents. The red glass was too dark to see whatever was inside, but it didn’t feel like liquid sloshing around, that was for sure. Idly tapping a nail against the cool surface as she went to put it back on the table, she nearly screamed when something tapped back. 

       Letting go of the bottle and skittering back, she tripped over a chair, sending her falling on her ass. The bottle didn’t bounce this time, shattering instead with a sound like thunder that shook the mansion. A whirlwind filled the room, sending debris flying as it exploded outwards. Crouching and covering her head with her arms, MC waited, eyes squeezed shut and heart pounding, for whatever was happening to stop. It could’ve been seconds or minutes; she barely knew which as the gale settled, ending as quickly as it had begun. Uncovering her head, she peeked, shaking, around the room. Anything that had been in contact certainly wasn’t now, nothing but shafts of wood and scraps of fabric remaining. But the furniture held the least of her attention right now, not with the sudden appearance of the room’s other occupant.

       He was on his knees, heaving and gasping. She couldn’t see his face from her place behind the chair, only locks of yellow hair. His clothes - a long coat of burnished gold, brown trousers, and soft leather boots - were all embroidered in gold thread, rich and quietly vibrant. 

       She didn’t understand who he was or where he had come from. It refused to click in her mind that he had actually been stuck in that wine bottle, tapping back to her. People didn’t come from inside bottles. That kind of thing only happened in myths and fairy tales - things that were only stories.

       Rising to her feet on legs still shaky, she kept her gaze on the man as she slid a foot back, thinking to make a quiet exit, unnoticed. Of course, with so much debris scattered about the room, something like a quiet escape was absolutely impossible. Before the edge of her shoe had moved even a few inches, it disturbed a shard of wood with enough force to send it scittering a few inches over the stone floor, breaking the silence only broken by his heavy breathing.

       Piercing yellow eyes snapped to her and she gasped at the intensity within their depths, frozen, a deer in headlights. He turned, stumbling to his feet, eyes still locked with hers, and dear god, she believed in fairy tales looking at him. His face was unnaturally beautiful, something someone had dreamed up rather than someone born. It spoke of marble sculptures carved in his image, of candlelight on silk sheets, and there was a depth to his eyes, something she couldn’t fathom, something that marked him as...inhuman.

       MC hadn’t realized that her jaw had dropped and she swallowed, opening her mouth to say something and choking on air. Before she could manage her way through anything even vaguely coherent, he surged forward, barely a centimeter in front of her in the blink of an eye. Yelping, she tried to jump back, but his arms were already around her, dragging her against his chest. She struggled fruitlessly in his grip as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, lips and nose nuzzling against the soft skin as he breathed deep of her scent.

       “W-What are you-? S-Stop!” she demanded weakly, the panic rising in her chest choking her pleas. 

       “Smells so good,” the stranger breathed, his voice hoarse from disuse, and pulled back just enough that he could peer into her wide eyes. He looked absolutely wild now, ravenous and uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, but I need your help, mademoiselle.”

       The hand around her shoulders grabbed a handful of her hair, gently moving it away from her neck. Her fingers clawed into his lapels as she stared at him, fearful and confused, prey in the arms of a predator. His face lowered to her neck once again and she shivered as his breath fanned against her skin. What was he doing?

       “Try to relax, ma cherie.”

       The unexpected pain of two fangs sinking into her made her scream, bucking in his unyielding hold as he took long drawls of her blood. 

       It was physical pain as well as mental pain, the pain of confusion and everything she’d thought she’d known about the realistic world cracking. Pain. And then pleasure. Pleasure unlike any she had ever experienced before, setting her entire body alight and turning her mind white.

       And that was how she met him, Le Comte de Saint-Germain, a starving vampire trapped inside a wine bottle for 100 years.

       She’d woken later with her head in his lap, the ghost of his touch on her cheek stirring her. The ceiling spun above her and MC groaned, turning into him and covering her eyes with an arm.

       “Shh, you’re okay, ma cherie. It’ll pass soon.”

       Her eyes flew open, met with an abundance of gold and yellow, and she shot upwards, falling on her side as the world spun again. Hands reached to steady her out of the corner of her vision, but she flinched away from them, remembering the strange pain and pleasure his bite had brought. 

       “Stop!” she bit out, and he did, hovering a few feet away from her. “Who are you and what did you do to me?!”

       He blinked at her, seeming to think for a second before answering with a gentle smile, “I am Le Comte de Saint-Germain, and...moments ago I was starving for your blood.”

       “Starving for my-” She shook her head, still confused and afraid. “What?”

       “I’m not human, as you might have guessed.” His tone was polite, but warm, friendly as he spoke to her. “I’m a creature out of your myths and folklore, a vampire.”

       And her day officially couldn’t get any weirder!

       There, sitting on the cold, stone floor and shredded rugs, Le Comte had told her his story, that he was an immortal vampire trapped inside a wine bottle by another of his kind who he’d once considered a friend. He had been the one to build the mansion and live in it, assimilating into human high society and traveling between countries for centuries until the event of his capture.

       When MC had asked him about how the mansion had appeared and disappeared, he’d answered that it was part of the curse placed on him, that none should have been able to find and release him. Even he didn’t know how she had managed to stumble upon it.

       She believed him, choosing to trust the earnestness in his gaze when he’d apologized for biting her in a fit of starvation, but it was still a lot to take in, and they just sat there like that, blinking at each other, for a good minute or so. He seemed just as curious of her as she was of him, a little disoriented too, but she guessed that was to be expected after being trapped in a wine bottle for a hundred years. Finally, she said, “So what happens now? What are you going to do now that you’re free?” What was she going to do? She couldn’t just walk away from this place like it had never happened, right?

       He hummed, chuckling as he gazed around at the ruin of his home. “Rebuild, I suppose; catch up on what I’ve missed in the past hundred years.”

       MC blinked, biting her lip as she contemplated the impact of what she was about to say. An hour ago, all she had wanted to do was get away from this place, to forget it and never see it again, but now her heart felt strangely heavy at the thought. If she left this place behind now, she would regret it, she could feel it in her bones. Could she be blamed for wanting to live out whatever fairy tale this was, just for a little longer?

       “I…” Those yellow eyes met hers again, and her fate was sealed. “I might be able to help you with that.”

        Thus began her relationship with an immortal vampire, visiting him every day with new technology and books on the modern age for him to catch up with. More than once, he returned to the city with her, eager and capable of exploring for himself. He adjusted surprisingly easily to the new time period and all the technological advances that came with it, but she guessed that was part of being immortal, having to adapt quickly to the change of time. 

       She didn’t know what magic he possessed, but every day the mansion looked a little better, damaged furnishings either replaced or repaired, broken windows whole again, even the hole in the ceiling of the entry was miraculously fixed when she came one day. The lawn and garden still needed a great deal of attention, but those could definitely wait, especially since Le Comte was still weak after his long entrapment.

       “Le Comte?” MC called as she pushed the door open. The mansion welcomed her like an old friend now, warmth and the faint smell of sandalwood wrapping around her as she stepped into the entryway. She’d come to look forward to these daily meetings, noticeably out of it to her friends and colleagues when work or bad weather kept her from making the trip.

       “Here, ma cherie,” she heard him call from somewhere up the staircase. He could’ve been anywhere in this massive place and she still would have heard his call - another magical feature of the mansion and its connection with its owner. 

       It was weird. It had been months since she had found the mansion and Le Comte, but already she could barely remember what her life was like before. Her happiest moments were spent here, with him, her days filled with the smell of chamomile that she’d come to know as Le Comte’s, and easing the tension in her shoulders from the stress of modern life. 

       But it was more than that too, so much more. 

       She wasn’t dense. She knew what it meant for her heart to flutter the way it did at the mere thought of him. Truly, she’d had no intent of pursuing anything more than friendship when she started helping him. What more could there be between a human and a vampire? It had all seemed like a fairy tale, the beautiful mansion and the equally beautiful man in the bottle, waiting for her to find them, but this story would not end in romance, she was sure of it...or at least she had been. 

       She’d tried to reason with herself at first, that it was just the allure of something new and strange and magical in her ordinary life, that it was just the natural attraction of a vampiric predator to his human prey, but when had reason ever convinced a love-struck heart? He wasn’t going to hurt her, she was sure of that, and there were plenty of nice men in her normal life that she could have chosen from if she wanted a change of pace. No, she was in love with Le Comte and there was nothing she could do about it, no forwards or backwards, no place for her love to go, so it bloomed quietly in her chest, growing with each affectionate smile he sent her way. 

       MC found him hanging a painting in the hallway, a landscape she remembered him asking her opinion on last week when they went into town together. It made her cheeks warm a little, remembering his approving nod when she’d told him she liked it. The long, pale yellow coat he’d adopted lay across the back of a nearby chair, and the sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up, exposing pale forearms. It shouldn’t have made her blush, but to her shame it did, the sight of her crush’s bared skin making her feel like some pervert, excited by the least bit of exposed skin.

       “What do you think?” Stepping away from the painting, he dusted his hands off and she did her best to keep her eyes away from the elegant flex of his fingers. 

       “Looks nice,” she answered simply, turning her gaze to the painting and anywhere other than him. She could feel him looking at her, and she wondered what he was thinking, what was going on inside his head. 

       He hummed, pleased. “I bought it with you in mind.”

       “W-Why?” She didn’t know what to say. Lately, it was like each word he said to her was intended to make her heart pound.

       “I thought there should be something of you here.”

       Her cheeks were as good as on fire now, and she resisted the urge to reach up and press her cool palms against the heated skin. “I-I see.” She kept her gaze glued to the painting, staring but not seeing the whorls and colors that made up the bodies of two lovers entwined and hidden within the painting, not daring to look at him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

       He didn’t respond, and the atmosphere suddenly felt too heavy, too many implications in his gaze, in buying this particular painting. Clearing her throat, she turned on her heel even as she spoke, “I’m going to go finish the cleaning I started in the kitchen yesterday.” MC cursed the way her voice swooped and dove, unwilling to settle on a tone and octave. 

       He chuckled and the sound warmed her to her bones. “Okay.”

       Her legs felt shaky as she made her way back down the steps and to the kitchen, blowing out a long breath as soon as she deemed herself far enough away from him. Mechanically, she pulled out the cutlery she’d been polishing the day before, her mind drifting as she did. Her heart felt shaky in her chest, fluttering and pounding and ready to run back up the stairs and throw itself into the hands of the vampire it belonged to. But she would do her best not to let it. 

       Falling in love with him was one thing. Starting a relationship with him was another. She couldn’t fully fathom what it would mean to be a vampire’s mate, what impact it would have on her human life, but she knew the cost would be immense. Besides, there was no telling if he even returned her feelings. He cared for her as any friend would - she knew that at least - and the affection he displayed was undeniable, but she refused to see it as anything more than platonic. Le Comte had already lived so much longer than her, and probably loved more than her too. Making assumptions would only lead to pain on both their parts.

       MC jumped, a noise of pain and surprise passing her lips, when her fingers slipped on the steak knife she’d been polishing, the sharp edge slicing the skin of her thumb. In seconds, a line of blood rose to the surface, gathering to drip down her skin in small drops. Hissing in pain, she turned to the sink, about to clean the wound, but she jumped when her attention caught on the sudden figure in the doorway. She hadn’t heard Le Comte approach, hadn’t even felt his presence, and how still he stood as he hovered in the doorway was immediately unsettling.

       “I wasn’t paying attention,” she tried to fill the silence, “I cut myself on one of the knives.”

       Still nothing from him, his gaze locked on her bleeding thumb.

       “Le Comte?”

       He seemed to startle out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, a shudder passing through him as he glanced up at her face before looking away entirely. His usual poise and grace was replaced by something hard, something sad. “You should leave,” he murmured, eyes shaded by his golden hair as he turned away from her, his movements stiff. 

       She blinked. “What? Why? I-”

       “Leave.” His voice was harder now, resonating with something that gripped her soul with icy claws. “Now.”

       So she did, helpless to disobey. Holding her bleeding hand, she ducked past him and hurried down the hall, through the door and down the path before her mind started to catch up. It hurt to be pushed away so cruelly by the one she loved, but she knew why he had done it, the memory of his fangs plunging into her neck months ago still a fresh reminder. He’d promised never to hurt her again, but he was still a vampire, surviving on blood. One slip up and...why didn’t the idea of him biting her bring her fear anymore?

       Her steps were small and slow as MC walked to the mansion the next day, tripping and stumbling more than once over roots and rocks she had always avoided easily before. She hadn’t slept well the night before, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, those golden eyes were there, inviting her closer. She had considered not even coming today, but she’d eventually decided otherwise after spending all day unable to focus and watching the sun near the horizon from her bedroom window. Something restless in her heart wouldn’t let her avoid him.

       “Comte?” she called, too softly, when she opened the door. The newly polished wood and iron gave way easily under her touch. No answer, but she knew he could sense her, just as the mansion could. 

       The mansion at night made her want to curl up in front of a fire, preferably in the arms of her loved one. The candles in their newly restored candleholders cast warm, golden light on the richly colored walls and paintings, and she tried to ignore the burst of heat in her chest as she passed the painting Le Comte had gotten for her. The lovers within the frame became especially apparent in the romantic light, hands and lips on naked flesh. 

       She continued to Le Comte’s bedroom, taking a deep breath as she lifted a fist to knock. Still no answer, and her brow furrowed, but just as she was about to grasp the knob she heard something shatter from inside the room. 

       “Comte?” A pained moan and her heart jumped into her throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m coming in!”

       The glass shards lying across the floor were the least of her worries as she barged in, her attention falling on the man bent on the rug. A sense of deja vu settled over her, but before she’d taken even a few steps towards him one of his hands shot up, stopping her in place.

       “Why’d you come?” he grunted, his voice choked and dry. He didn’t give her any time to answer, continuing, “You shouldn’t be here.”

       “I came because I was worried,” she admitted softly, soothingly. “Comte, are you starving again?”

       “No!” The harsh edge to his tone made her jump, but she held her ground, digging her nails into her palm as she took another couple of steps towards him. He turned on her from his place on the floor, baring long, sharp fangs in a snarl. “Don’t come any closer!” 

       Maybe she should have, but MC felt no fear as she knelt in front of him, warm palm meeting his cool cheek. He stared at her, eyes shining with astonishment and hunger, sadness and longing. “Why didn’t you tell me you were starving?” she questioned, giving him a heartbroken smile. “Why didn’t you ask me for help? Do you not trust me enough for this?”

       Heartbeats passed as he stared at her, and for a second she wondered if he had heard her through his ravenous haze, if he was already too far gone in his bloodlust. Finally, his lips parted and he whispered, “It’s not that.” He closed his eyes, drooping into her touch. “It’s not that.”

       Without a word, she reached up, undoing a couple of buttons on her blouse. His eyes still closed, Le Comte let her guide him to the crook of her neck, but as soon as the warmth of her skin pressed against his cheek, he jolted, tearing out of her hold and dragging himself back along the rug, away from her.

       “You know nothing!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what I want to do to you!”

       “Then tell me!” she pleaded, hands fisting in her skirt. “Let me help you!”

       “I want to bite you!” he cried, anguished that she didn’t understand even as his eyes glinted with a feral light. “I want to sink my fangs into you and fuck you until all of you is mine! Until you’re filled with me!”

       MC stared, frozen at his omission. Maybe she hadn’t known the extent of his hunger for her, what it fully entailed, but she would happily let him have everything he wanted of her depending on his answer to her next question.

       “Is it just because you’re starving?” she asked quietly. “Could anyone satisfy you right now?”

       His gaze locked with hers, weighing the question. He knew exactly what she was asking. “No,” he admitted, his voice hushed, and the tension in the room reached a climax. “Only you. I starve for your blood, your body, and yours alone.”

       “Then I don’t care,” she laughed breathlessly. Her heart felt like it was ready to beat out of her chest, and she couldn’t restrain her relieved smile as she met his wide-eyed expression. “Bite me...fuck me...and I’ll still love you.”

       A heartbeat later, she was lifted off the floor, weightless, and tossed onto the bed. She bounced on the mattress, sinking into the luscious pillows and blankets, before a solid weight settled over her. Grabbing her hands, Le Comte pinned them above her head, hot tongue leaving a wet trail against her neck. His hips settled between her legs, pinning her to the mattress as he teased the sensitive spot on the side of her throat with the tips of his fangs. 

       “Oh…” She writhed under him, skirt slipping up her thighs as she wrapped a leg around his waist. Her body still remembered how it felt to be bitten by him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat. “Please…!”

       “Abel,” he whispered in her ear, making her still for a moment. “I want you calling me by my real name as I claim you.” His fangs slipped so suddenly into her neck, she barely registered the pain before pleasure claimed her unprepared body, nerve endings set alight with sudden arousal. Her vision blurred and she might’ve screamed, but she didn’t know, too focused on the way his body was pressing into her suddenly oversensitive one as her blood flowed into his mouth. It was more powerful this time, whether made so by the sudden confession between them or his increased need for her, she didn’t know and didn’t care. All she could think of was the mournful emptiness in her core and the rush of release that ruined her panties as he continued to drink from her.

       When MC came to, she was naked, bare to him in the firelight. Her heart was pounding and her inner thighs were wet, slick with her cum. Le Comte...Abel...wasn’t on top of her anymore, his hands on her calves holding her legs apart as he knelt by her feet. She gasped silently, eyes widening, when she realized he was equally bare, every inch of him more gorgeous than she could have ever imagined as the firelight danced across his skin.

       “So beautiful,” he purred, kissing up the inside of her leg from her ankle to her thigh. “You were sent here just for me, weren’t you? Sent to free me, all for me to love.” She couldn’t answer, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her fingers into the sheets as he neared the apex of her thighs. “Mmm, you smell positively delectable, mon amour.”

       She yelped, fingers flying to his hair as his fangs burrowed into the soft skin of her thigh. It was more painful in a spot so vulnerable, but the pleasure after the pain was more intense too, making her writhe in his grip as another wave of release soaked her thighs. She mewled and panted as he took greedy gulps from her, laving his tongue lovingly across the bloodied skin when he’d had his fill. Her body shuddered with the aftershocks of a second orgasm, and she whimpered, too sensitive to his touch. Such rapture shouldn’t have been humanly possible, wasn’t humanly possible.

       “You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” Abel moaned, eyes half-lidded as he peered up at her from between her legs. His hands ran up and down her legs, bending them at the knees as he crawled closer, hot breath fanning against her wet pussy. He took her in so greedily, so hungrily, she had to resist the urge to close her legs around him, to hide away from the intensity of his gaze. Never had anyone looked at her like that before, starving for her. 

       MC gasped his name breathlessly when his tongue licked a stripe along her slit, and he groaned at the taste of her arousal. “Absolutely soaked,” he purred, licking his lips. “I don’t believe I even need to prepare you for me.” 

       She trembled as he licked her again, yelping and bucking her hips into his face when his mouth wrapped around her clit. His grip on her hips held her still as his tongue delved inside of her, chin shining with her wetness as he slurped and moaned. Though she had never admitted it, this was what she had wanted for so long, her love reciprocated to the utmost. And as much as she wanted him to continue, she was already oversensitive from the intensity of her previous two climaxes. She wouldn’t be able to take much more without it becoming painful soon and she wanted him inside of her, filling and stretching and claiming her.

       “A-Abel,” she managed to say, her vision blurred with pleasured tears. “T-Too much. Too sensitive.”

       That’s what she said, but she still nearly cried when his tongue left her, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut to keep herself from shoving his head back between her legs. His warmth fell over her as he moved on top of her, soft lips kissing the corners of her eyes and trailing over her cheeks. She mewled when his hardened cock brushed her throbbing core, unintentionally teasing her. Even just brushing against her, she could tell he was huge, bigger than any human male could ever be.

       “Are you okay?” he murmured softly, and she nodded.

       Opening her eyes, MC cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss him with as much love and need as she could muster. “Please,” she whispered against his lips, “Make me yours?”

       Even though she’d already confessed so much to him tonight, Abel still looked at her with such amazement in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe she was actually real and here with him. Placing his hand over hers, he closed his eyes, smiling into her palm. “I don’t deserve to...but it would be my honor.” He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to; the weight of mutual love and adoration that filled the space between them and his overjoyed smile against her skin said enough.

       Without wasting another moment, he reached between them and gently guided himself into her, hazy, lust-focused golden eyes peering into hers as a shudder wracked their joined forms. Her nails dug into his back, core squeezing around the pulsing length burrowing inside of her.

       “Relax, mon amour,” he whispered, nuzzling the soft spot below her ear. Taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, she tried to relax the clenching in her lower stomach, gradually adjusting to the stretch. 

       “Please,” she whined, planting kisses across his chin and jaw. “Move.”

       The world she knew fell away, nonexistent. All there was was him and her and this place, wrapped up with velvet and warm firelight as her vampire made love to her.

       His thrusts into her were slow and forceful, the pleasure it brought rolling over her in spine-tingling waves. Her back arched, head thrown back to expose her neck to his hungry lips, as he held her against him. 

       “Perfect,” he moaned against her skin, his breath raising goosebumps on her flesh. “Absolutely perfect.”

       Her toes curled as he lifted her hips, changing the angle and hitting spots deep inside of her that made her see stars. Her arms laced around him, vice-like as she held onto him desperately. Each powerful stroke into her teased the edge of her climax, igniting her nerves, and the feeling of his mouth closing around the nipple of one bouncing breast made her scream.

       She writhed, helplessly grinding her hips to meet his thrusts as he sucked the hardened bud, teasing it with his fangs. His other hand pinched and rolled its twin, his thrusts turning harder as he fucked her into the mattress. He let go of her breast with a wet pop, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake as he moved up her chest, nipping at her collarbone for good measure.

       “Does it feel good?” he purred in her ear, honeyed voice dripping with sin. “Do you like the way it feels, my fangs in your throat and my cock in your cunt?”

       “Yes!” she cried, desperate. She wanted so badly to cum again, to reach her climax for the third time tonight. It was already so, so close. “Please - anhg! - Don’t stop!”

       He chuckled, warm breath fanning against her skin. “I don’t intend to.” His cock slammed into the sensitive spot inside of her, his hand reaching between her legs to find her clit. “Not until your body knows me and me alone.”

       She could feel the coil deep in her stomach starting to tighten, signaling her impending climax. “Haa...A-Abel! I’m - I’m close! Ah...more! Feels...ha...so good! I need more!”

       Something changed in him at her words, whatever control he had recovered after drinking her blood vanishing. Grunting, he grabbed the backs of her knees and pushed them against her chest. “Cum around my cock,” he coaxed, face alight with feral desire. The expression was unfamiliar on his gentlemanly face, but it still shot a pulse of heat straight to her core, making her squeeze around him. “Make me cum inside of you.”

       MC screamed, coating him in her release as he rammed into her, the new position sending her over the edge and into her climax. She sobbed, fluttering around his piercing cock as the blunt head pummeled her cervix, the slight pain making her orgasm all the more ravaging. 

       He groaned, thrusts turning sloppy as her core milked him, and with another few deep thrusts inside of her, he came, growling into her neck as he pulsed. She trembled at the feeling of his cum filling her, hot and thick and pooling somewhere deep inside of her as her eyes closed and her body turned weightless.

       She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until her eyes fluttered open, finding herself tucked under the covers and cuddled against a warm, bare chest. 

       “You’re awake,” Le Comte’s voice rumbled against her cheek, and she tilted her head to peer up at him as his fingers carded soothingly through her hair. “Are you okay?”

       “Yeah.” She blushed, noting the soreness and lingering warmth between her thighs. “It was just...intense.” The corner of his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smirk, and she kept talking before he could tease her. “Do you not sleep?” she said softly, reaching to tuck her arms around him in turn. 

       “I do,” he chuckled with a raised brow, relaxing into her embrace. 

       “Then why don’t you?”

       “...I’m almost afraid to sleep,” he admitted wryly. “Maybe this...meeting you...has all been a dream and I’m still stuck in that bottle.”

       Her grip on him tightened, snuggling him closer. She hadn’t known he’d felt this way, scarred by his time trapped and alone, but of course he would. He felt and processed experiences just as she did. Leaning up, she kissed him softly, feeling his arms pull her closer. “I’m real,” she murmured, holding his gaze, those brilliant golden eyes she had originally fallen so deeply in love with. “This is real, and I love you. I still don’t know how I was able to find this place, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

       “What did I do for God to send you to me?” His breathing stuttered and he said on a shaky exhale, “I’ve done things, things that pervert the rules of nature, things that I never want to tell you. How can I possibly deserve you?”

       “Hmm, do you love me?” She smiled, her heart feeling full enough to burst from her chest.

       “Madly,” he answered, without missing a beat.

       “Then we’ll work our way up from there. Just know that I can’t remember ever being happier than I have been here with you these past months.” Leaning up for a last kiss, she felt him smile against her lips. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

       There was still much to discuss, a whole dynamic to work out between them, but it could wait until morning. For now, they could sleep in each other’s arms, blissfully in love and ready to face the challenges that would come with each tomorrow.

       They had all the time in the world, after all.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Past Promises

Characters → Y/N & Geralt of Rivia

Summary → Y/N heads to Novigrad to warn Geralt of his future.

Prompt →  “I know right now we are enemies, but I need your help.” [In bold]

Word Count → 2.6k

Warnings → 18+, canon typical violence, scars and wounds, blood, sexy things, Geralt’s thighs and arms (yep they’re a warning).

Beta →  @daydream3r-xo​ // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → Well, here’s my first Geralt fic. I started playing the Witcher 3 (again) during the summer lockdown and I’m halfway through The Last Wish. Repetitive dreams of Geralt and Henry Cavill made me choose him for @justagirlinafandomworld Time Travel Challenge. This has a little bit of the book, video game and Netflix rolled into this so hope you like the combination and hidden context!

Past Promises

The tavern heaved with patrons escaping the rain, the loud chatter and boisterous laughter filling the candlelit space. Y/N attempted to enjoy the meal in peace but there was no escape from the men that lurked and leered at her hooded form. A woman, drinking and eating alone was not only suspicious, but fair game for their ill intent. 

For the most part, she was able to ignore the disgusting remarks and slurred abuse until one of the drunken fools sat opposite. Y/N gulped from the flagon and looked him dead in the eye, a sneer on her lips in hopes that he’d get the hint that she was not in the mood for company.

Of course, the drunk man didn’t. Instead, he leant forward, grinning at Y/N and his grubby fingers reaching forward to pull down the hood. With a flash, she slammed his hand down on the table, a dagger pierced into the table between a couple of fingers.

The man screeched, gaining the attention of the other patrons. Y/N’s eyes flicked between the now silent revellers and the man sat opposite before she looked over to the bartender who shook his head in time with the wiping of a tankard.

Y/N yanked the man forward by his greasy locks, the group of men nearest to her edged forward and her eyes immediately focused on them, the golden glow no longer amiss. A few stumbled backwards, others looked elsewhere.

“I missed, on purpose.” She growled and pushed him away with a force, causing the chair to crash to the ground. “Next time I won’t.”

The man scrambled to his feet and rushed through the patrons. Y/N’s eyes didn’t retreat from his form until he was lost amongst the crowd. Feeling the eyes of others still intently on hers, she retrieved her satchel and headed to leave the tavern.

“Your kind aren’t welcome here,” a man to the side, spat just before she stepped forward.

Y/N twirled, cape billowing open behind her, hood falling, her appearance no longer concealed; a large streak of pure white and her golden eyes glowing ferociously. Looking more menacing with the three jagged scars streaking across her right eye and down her cheek.

The man’s throat was met with the point of a sword, the smell of fear emanated from the man in bucket loads. Y/N held her gaze on the patron that dared to speak out as she had already decided to leave. A tiny drop of blood trickled down his throat, following the curve of his Adam's apple bobbing.

The bartender appeared beside him, “I think you should leave now monster.”

Y/N snarled and with a spin she darted out of the tavern, running through the cobbled streets, bypassing the vendors packing up their stalls and loading wagons. Her body hummed with rage, blood simmering against her skin. The words that had so easily come out of their mouths played over and over in her mind. 

She stopped in an alley between two buildings and leant against the stone. She clutched the talisman at her chest, reminding herself that she was visiting the past, fifty years in the past. That she had endured this back then as one of the few girls to complete the trials.

The medallion no longer vibrated in her hold, or maybe it was her hands that had been shaking before. A tentative step out of the dark alleyway and a few more, she was back in the throng of merchants and townsfolk. 

“Not a step further.” The deep grumble stopped Y/N in her tracks.

Easier to find than I thought, Y/N turned and found a matching set of golden eyes and a grimace that rivalled any other. It wasn’t her Geralt and she had to remind herself of that as he nodded in the direction of an alleyway.

He looked a little younger, not as worn down as the man she knows now. Didn’t have the scar across his face, at least it was an indicator that you were in time to warn him, even though you knew it was going to be difficult to gain his trust. Their past was not pleasant, and it had taken many decades for them to even see eye to eye, let alone be intimate with one another.

She kept her distance, her hand curled around the hilt of the sword. Being prepared for an attack as a Witcher was the norm but to be on guard against the one that you had loved for many years had her heart aching with each step that she followed.

Y/N instantly recognised the large tavern in front of them as the Chameleon, yet in this time it was probably already being run by Whoreson Senior as a brothel. Deep down, she hoped that this wasn’t your stop off, hand tightening around the blade at the thought of having to witness the Geralt from before. The one that frequented these taverns.

Geralt continued his path, he weaved through the empty stalls and the pyres set up in the town square. The crushing weight of jealousy lifted and was replaced with a feeling of disgust and hatred for the blind followers of the Church of Eternal Flame. Before Y/N could comment, she was guided inside The Kingfisher Inn.

A secluded spot and two flagons of ale on the table later, Y/N watched the frothy liquid spill over the cup, anything to avoid looking Geralt in the eyes. She sniffed at the liquid, tested it with the tip of her tongue before guzzling it down. Witcher senses or not, she could never be too careful. 

Geralt’s head shook in dismay, his jaw ticked twice at your action, “I could have killed you back there if I wanted too.”

They both sat there for a moment, tried to read each other, to work out what the other one’s intentions were. The cheers and applause of the patrons pulled their attention away from one another to the stage. A man introduced a very young blonde girl with a lute, the room fell into silence as the beautiful melody filled the room. 

Geralt drained the last of his ale and nodded towards the stairs. Y/N followed him, without question, into his temporary living quarters. Geralt removed his swords and armour yet she remained in her hood, concealed from his fiery gaze.

In a flash, Geralt had Y/N pinned against the wooden frame; his thick forearm pressing against her windpipe. His growl and the gasp for air was enough to send her into a panic. She clawed at his arm, but he instantly pinned it to the door above their heads.

“Why are you here?” His gruff voice rattled your bones, a shiver running over your skin.

The lack of oxygen and his leg locked between Y/N’s legs reminded her of her lover and for a moment she whimpered at the pleasure radiating from the friction of his large thigh at her core. As Y/N gasped for air, she remembered that he was not him.

“Geralt.” Voice hoarse and strained, she glanced down and he followed her gaze.

Y/N pressed the dagger into his abdomen, feeling the pressure against her palm as she pushed the blade harder but not enough to pierce. He immediately eased off her throat but didn’t unleash his hold.

“I know right now we are enemies, but I need your help,” she whispered while her eyes flitted across the room, focusing on anything but to look at him directly.

“We have never been enemies.” Geralt huffed and pushed away, turning from her.

Y/N whimpered at the loss of his hulking frame, yet relief washed over her. She slumped down to the floor, massaging your neck softly. Most of all, the words shocked her; the pair had never gotten along, ever since she left the Dyn Marv caravan to be trained by Master Vesemir at Kaer Morhen. 

As a young Feline, Y/N was nothing like them and did not have the same mindset as the other Witcher’s from the School of the Cat. They were notorious for their lack of commitment to the position of neutrality, their bloodlust and lack of hesitancy in taking on an assassination contract over slaying a drowner.

Geralt lived by a particular code and Feline Witchers went against his code. Cats and dogs are always depicted as enemies and that’s what Y/N and Geralt became. There was room for nothing else.

The frown on her face ached as she tried to process his words, her mouth opened and closed several times before he spoke again.

“You were never a Feline; you have always been one of us.” His deep voice was soft, reminding Y/N of the man back home. Waiting for her return.

She looked up at him, amber eyes locked with hers; his burning gaze unmatching to his neutral expression. He had never told her this before, not even the man back home.

Geralt offered his hand and she accepted it, she stood up but the hood caught on the door frame, revealing her face. Warmth bloomed at her cheek and a stroke of Geralt’s thumb as his fingers traced the jagged scars, following the trail down to the ones at her neck.

Y/N held her breath while he continued to silently inspect the wounds; pulling the string of the cloak and letting it pool at her feet before he pushed aside the collar of the tunic, exposing the scarred flesh of her shoulder and collarbone.

“I only saw you a week ago. How has this healed?” Geralt murmured as his fingers delicately traced the damaged skin.

Once more, Y/N were stunned into silence, minutes ago he was ready to crush her windpipe and now his eyes were full of concern. Not only that, but he had also seen her a week ago. She tried to remember what event he was talking about, but she hadn’t seen him in years at this point, or so she thought.

Y/N tried to remember something so long ago that she wouldn’t have recalled if it wasn’t for travelling back in time. Instinct told her to push Geralt away, instead, Y/N’s hands rested on his chest, fingers fiddling with the edging of the fabric. The ashen chest hairs peeking through the v-shaped tunic made her mouth water, but he was not hers.

The chime of the clocktower snapped Y/N back to the task at hand and gently pushed him back to collect her cloak and prepared her speech. She’d rehearsed it a thousand times already, but she couldn’t give too much away; the ripple of her being here now was already too great.

“Geralt, please listen to me carefully.” Y/N’s voice was stern.

“Hmm.” He leant against the desk, arms folded in front of him and legs laced over the other.

“You will be surprised by something in Cintra. You’ll be gifted something that belongs to another, something unexpected. You’ll need to protect this source of power.” Y/N tried to keep your words even, but panic seeped into them with each toll of the bell, “Please Geralt, remember. I haven’t got any time left.”

“I don’t follow, why are you talking in riddles Y/N?”

A gust of air filled the room, a spiral of green light filled the room, forming an arc just above Y/N’s head, the inside darker than the night’s sky. It was time to leave, if she didn’t then she’d have no chance of making it back. She couldn’t stay here.

Y/N rushed past Geralt and grabbed a piece of parchment and hastily wrote across it before nearing the portal, “promise me, Geralt. Promise me that you won’t forget.”

“I promise.” He stared at the paper in his hands, Y/N was through the portal by the time he looked up from the scribbled words.

The motion of being pushed and pulled, twisted, and spun made Y/N feel nauseous and once she was out the other side, she collapsed onto the bedroom floor. Her Geralt was by her side in an instant, his calloused hands lifted Y/N to her feet and into his embrace. Y/N held onto his sides and breathed in his familiar scent.

“It would have been a lot easier if you had come with me.” She mumbled into his chest.

“You know I hate portals.” Geralt chuckled, pushing Y/N’s ashen streaks from her face, and placed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“I hope it worked,” she whispered.

Geralt pushed Y/N to arm’s length, lowering himself to eye level, “Of course it did.”

She frowned at him, uncertain as to what he could mean, a small pout formed on her lips, her mind swirled with panic at failing.

“We are the same, remember. You told me something, I listened. Well, I kept the scrap of paper.” Geralt held her hand and pulled towards the bed and opened one of the many chests full of books and scrolls.

Y/N perched on the bed, as he sifted through until he came across the book he needed. Passing it to her, a book of Dandelion’s ballads. On instinct, she turned the pages to the bookmarked location to find the parchment with her handwriting.

Cintra. Source. Protect.

Geralt knelt before Y/N, his hands massaging her thighs. She looked up at him, hand tracing the side of his face with a soft smile.

“No one would risk travelling through time to prepare me for what was to come. To warn me of the future. I thought you hated me until that night.” Geralt leant his head into her palm, the stubble ticked her skin, “if only I had known sooner.”

Geralt’s hands travelled down Y/N’s legs, leaving shivers to echo across her body. His fingers made light work of the laces of her boots while he pressed soft kisses to the inside of her wrist, and up along her forearm. 

Y/N revelled in the feel of his touch and how easily she melted to his will. He removed the boots and tugged down her trousers. Soft kisses were pressed to the inside of her thighs, the sensation had her falling back into the mattress. 

His lips met her stomach, wet kisses, and gentle nips at the flesh while his hands pushed up the tunic, bunching it above her bare breasts. Geralt flicked his tongue over her hardened buds, his hands massaging the soft mounds. 

One of his thighs slipped between his legs as he caged her in; hot breaths mingled together, and fire burned in each other’s gaze. Love and lust-filled the atmosphere and Y/N’s core hummed with anticipation for his intimate touches.

“You weren’t exactly subtle when you rubbed against my thigh.” Geralt smirked above her.

Y/N slapped at his arm, a cheeky smile on her lips, “shut up and kiss me.”

His laughter rumbled through his chest against her exposed torso, he leant down and pressed his lips to hers without any further request.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan​ / @royaldarknessblr  / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @kitkatd7​ / @harold321​

[doctorofmagic]

Stephen’s indelible sin

For those who follow me for a while, you’re probably aware that I speak of guilt and self-loathing A LOT when it comes to Stephen. Once I wrote about his most terrible sin, but since then, I’ve gathered MORE information concerning Stephen and Hulk’s relationship. And, on a personal level, I think both fans and writers should explore this bond more, given their history.

Today, I’ll bring a detailed review on Stephen’s mistake and how it escalated into a pain that will never cease to exist within his heart and soul.

Warning: get your handkerchiefs ready, this is about to become sad quite rapidly.

We’ll begin our journey of angst in 1967, as seen in Strange Tales #156-157. In order to prevent Umar from walking on Earth, the Ancient One advises Stephen to release an evil and powerful demon called Zom. The demon is able to defeat Umar, but his strength is overwhelming, enough to give the Ancient One a hard time. Zom’s power is so evil and cursed that releasing him is a deed that catches the Living Tribunal’s (undue) attention. The Living Tribunal is so offended he wants to destroy Earth. And guess what? He blames Stephen, even though he was a mere apprentice imbued with blind obedience at that time.

The Living Tribunal imprisons Zom again, while Stephen convinces the deity that Earth deserves another chance. Stephen basically saves the planet, as usual, while Zom remains dormant for literally decades.

We’ll skip now to a not-so-canon event called “the birth of the Illuminati”, or “how Stephen ruined his life for good out of arrogance and toxic masculinity”. It’s uncertain when they first gathered to boss around the planet, but according to History Of The Marvel Universe #3 (2019) and New Avengers: Illuminati #1 (2007), they made this decision after the Kree/Skrull War, creating a secret council to answer for all humanity, even though humanity itself wasn’t aware of those dubious representatives. The Kree/Skrull war dates back to 1971, which means they spent decades plotting their hidden agendas.

Still, they’re heroes, right? They wouldn’t harm people, would they? They wouldn’t harm their friends or make mistakes. They’re supposed to be the smartest, most powerful people on Earth. Oh. Let me tell you something. Their very first mission was the reason why we had Civil War and Secret Invasion. Yes. It’s their fault that the Skrulls invaded Earth. And yes, Stephen is to blame because he was there with the group when they first threatned the Skrulls never to come back, or else they’d face them. Hah.

However, this is not his indelible sin. As you all know, what I consider an irreparable mistake was sending Hulk to Sakaar. And what’s even worse? It wasn’t the first time that Stephen tried to banish Hulk, as seen in The Incredible Hulk v1 #305 (1985).

But why is Stephen so haunted by banishing a menace? Because Hulk was, foremost, a dearest friend.

From Defenders v1 #12 (1973)

When it comes to Hulk’s friendships, people always think of Rick Jones, Amadeus Cho, even his cousin Jennifer Walters. But few people remember that Stephen and Valkyrie were two of the first heroes to treat Hulk kindly and with respect, even though Hulk always called Stephen names (the most iconic, “dumb magician”, which is a personal favorite of mine).

Stephen has always treated Hulk as an equal, as someone who is so much more than a mindless brute. So it’s really strange for me to read that, at some point, Stephen tried to banish him twice.

Sadly, it happened. The first was not as iconic as the second, though. So I’m focusing on the latter. Remember the Illuminati? The group thought they had the right to decide Hulk’s fate after he went berserk and destroyed Las Vegas. And Stephen agreed to it. Namor, who was also a member of the Defenders along with Stephen and Hulk, was the only one who refused, as seen in New Avengers: Illuminati One-Shot (2006). The three of them were the original members. Stephen should’ve known better. So why would he agree to this?

Because, again, the Illuminati are a very dubious group whose foundations are based on toxic masculinity. Powerful, egoic men left unchecked. And Stephen, as Earth’s most powerful sorcerer, couldn’t resist the call. The Ancient One was dead. The mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme was his. Clea left him years later - and he never told her about his dirty little secret, something that is subtly confirmed somewhere between New Avengers: Illuminati #4 (2007) and Avengers v4 #9 (2011).

Thus, it seems that Stephen, at some point, decided that he was better than everyone around him, a trait that was supposed to be buried in the past along with his arrogant neurosurgeon self. The kind man who has always praised his allies was now gone.

Except... World War Hulk happened. Long story short, Hulk ended up in Sakaar and found a new life after defeating his captor. He married and became king, and he was happy (you can get a very shady glimpse of this story in MCU’s Thor: Ragnarok, but that version is quite family friendly. World War Hulk is far worse). But then, the ship which the Illuminati created to send him into space exploded, killing his wife in the process. Spoiler: it wasn’t the Illuminati. It was Miek, who framed the Illuminati so Hulk would call revenge upon them. Enraged as never seen before, Hulk was truly decided to kill Reed, Tony, Black Bolt and... yes, Stephen.

At first, Stephen tried to reason with him. But Hulk’s hatred was beyond words. Stephen had all his fingers broken, ouch. Imagine his pain, assuming his hands were once injured in the car accident and still hurt from the damage and all the surgeries he has been through...

Now, as you know, Stephen is stubborn as hell. Remember the demon Zom? When everything else failed to stop the Hulk, Stephen finally corrupted his soul and let the demon possess him. Obviously, he lost control and almost harmed innocent people, which was enough for him to be distracted long enough for Hulk to finish him off.

In the end, Hulk discovered the truth behind the explosion and, after a rage outburst, transformed back to Banner. Stephen almost died that day by the hands of his friend. But he didn’t. All that was left from that sad event was guilt. Endless, heavy guilt.

One could arguee that Stephen is out of character. And I would’ve agreed with you, except... Nor time nor actions were good enough to heal Stephen’s heart. It never went away. Never.

The reason why he forfeited the mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme? Because he used Zom’s dark magic and hurt Bruce deeply. And that affected him on so many levels that he didn’t find himself worthy anymore.

From New Avengers v1 Annual #2 (2008).

It didn’t stop there. He tried time and time again. He was never able to find the proper words to apologize because he knows words will never heal the pain he inflicted on his friend.

These thoughts are Stephen’s. “Two words I’ll repeat for the rest of my days. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” (From Incredible Hulks #618)

And poor Stephen even goes and tries to compensate his lack of expertise when it comes to interpersonal relationships, projecting his relationship with Hulk into, well, another Hulk. He’s so afraid of making the same mistakes he doesn’t even know where the line is drawn.

From Weapon H #2 (2018).

As I said, it will never go away. And Stephen knows it.

From Defenders v4 #1 (2011).

The point is, people make mistakes. And sometimes these mistakes are just too painful to be erased. Stephen strongly believes he’ll never be forgiven, which is quite sad because this sin will always be a source of guilt for him. Whether or not Hulk forgives Stephen in the future, it will always remain a burden.

Personally, I believe that blaming himself for what happened to Hulk is even worse than blaming himself for Clea’s departure. Because, see, Clea has forgiven Stephen over the years. They still love each other and, once you ignore Fearless Defenders, there’s no sin. They both agreed to take separate ways, even though their love still existed.

But Hulk? It’s a story about betrayal between friends. It’s quite cruel and sad for both sides. I can only hope that, someday, a writer will make it up for them. They deserve another chance. And, as unreliable as I am, all I want to see is a happy Stephen.

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 07

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 7.3k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: Hey all! Long time no see! I’m not really sure why I took so long to post... I just felt like I put so much work into this fic that I didn’t want it to be over so easily, and I was like “after this there’s only one more chapter!!” AND THEN! I went into my WIPs folder and made a discovery! THere’s 9 parts to this fic!! So now I feel a little better.

ANyway, PLEASE let me know if you like this chapter because I definitely feel like it’s the emotional climax of the whole story. ALl the stuff that happens from this point on is just... like a really long epilogue. 

Tags: @blue1928​ @veeparkersstuff @nello-rie (soz it won’t tag you!) ​

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You may be a guardian, but even you have your limits. Despite your best attempts to move quickly, the pain in your shoulder rapidly becomes overwhelming. 

Jin, frustratingly, picks up on it far sooner than you would prefer. 

“I think we need to stop for a break.” He comments. The three of you have barely been walking for an hour and at any moment the Saishta’s could be upon you, ready to take you to their queen. 

Jungkook looks like he wants to protest. 

“We’re so close though! It’s only a little while longer!” He points out, glancing nervously across the expansive plains. The benefit of them is that you’d spot any Saishtas from miles away, given the hulking, monstrous beasts they tend to use as their mounts.

Jungkook folds his arms. “I think it’s a bad idea to stop now. We need to get to the river and we’re sitting ducks out on the plains like this.”

Jin shoots Jungkook a withering look- this is nothing new, but the venom in Jin’s eyes surprises you. As much as he pretends to hate the tiny pixie, he doesn’t actually mean it. 

Jungkook shrivels a bit but doesn’t back down. Luckily (or rather, unluckily), their stand-off is halted by your legs deciding they are no longer strong enough to hold your body up. Blood loss and extreme pain will do that, apparently. 

Jin catches you as you crumble, smoothly scooping an arm around your waist and gently tugging you towards him until your weight is supported by his frame. The entire time, he does not tear his gaze from his stare-off with Jungkook. And apparently your weakness is the convincing Jungkook needs to show it’s time for a break. He glares at Jin for another couple of moments before releasing an annoyed huff. 

“I’ll cast a disguising spell on you two and scout out the area for any of those annoying reptiles. Don’t move from this spot or the spell will become ineffective.” He announces through grit teeth before zooming off like an angry mosquito. 

When he’s out of earshot, Jin turns his gaze to you and gently lowers you to the ground until you are seated amongst the stiff golden stems. He doesn’t release you from his carefully hold, however. Instead, he shifts until he is sitting almost nose-to-nose with you. 

“That was strange of Jungkook.” You observe, in an attempt to cover your discomfort at his proximity. You wonder if Jin knows how powerful his good looks are up close. He probably does- he’s never pretended to be anything other than devastatingly handsome. 

“He’s scared.” Jin answers with pursed lips. His gaze isn’t on your face, however. It’s fixed on your injured shoulder. Slowly, he raises a hand and gently rests his palm against the front of your shoulder. “You would be too if you could see how terrible you look right now.”

If you are surprised by the single tear that rolls down your face in response, it is nothing compared to Jin’s horrified reaction as he realises what he has done. Apparently, this whole being in love thing sucks. 

“W-wait!” Jin protests, absolutely horrified. “I-I didn’t mean it like that-“

You quickly scrub at your face with your uninjured arm. You know, in theory, that Jin didn’t mean that you looked terrible as in that he thought you were ugly. And you know in theory that it is therefore stupid to cry over it. But for some reason, that’s where your mind had gone- reminding you like an ever present shadow just how misplaced you look next to him, how there’s nothing you can give him that he can’t find in a million other girls, and just how little he thinks of you. 

You’re surprised when his hand replaces yours, far gentler than you had been as he wipes the tears from your face with a careful swipe of his thumb. 

“Hey,” he calls, grabbing your chin in his hand and angling your face until you’re forced to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that you... that you...” he voice cracks and he hangs his head, dropping his hands so he can clench his fists in his lap. “It’s not fun being reminded of how close we came to losing you.” Jin finally says. He drops his hand and his shoulders slump like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You don’t know this Jin. This terrified, uncertain man. He’s never once, in the entire time you’ve known him, shown this vulnerable, fragile side of himself. But you know you’re in trouble because you love this side of him too. The part of him that gets scared, that shows weakness, that can break. As much as you hate the fact that it is you who has made him like this, you are grateful that he trusts you enough to show himself, warts and all, and you feel something molten in your chest as you silently promise yourself that you’ll protect him. No matter what, you’ll keep him safe. Even if you’re not particularly smart or pretty or charming. You’re not the model-like, glamourous, genius girls he normally dates, and you never will be. You’re unemployed and clumsy and socially awkward and you’re selfish and childish on top of all that. But this is what you can offer him: your heart, as pathetic as she is, and the promise to protect him, no matter where he goes or ends up in life. 

“I know you didn’t mean it like that. I... just... It’s stupid.” You sigh at yourself before lifting your gaze to watch him. “Are you scared?” You finally question, changing the subject as the last of your tears dry. Jin frowns, nodding slightly. 

“A little.” He admits, his tone a bit dry like he’s severely understating his feelings on the matter. And you don’t know why, but something prompts you to reach forward and wrap your hand around his. Perhaps it is the slight shake he tried to hide by gripping the material of his pants so hard his knuckles go white. His hand is surprisingly much bigger than yours- you don’t know why that surprises you, but it does. 

“Don’t worry.” You reassure him. “I’ll protect you.”

The corner of his lip quirks and he shoots you an oddly fond look. It’s one you’ve seen before, although not directed at you. You’ve seen him look that way when he speaks about a particularly endearing coworker, or he recalls something silly that Namjoon has done. This is the first time you’ve been on the receiving end.

“In that state?” He questions with a raised brow. You feel yourself bristle a little defensively at the slightly patronising way he is coming across.

“Are you laughing?” You press, slightly offended. “You don’t think I can?”

“No.” Jin answers, turning to you with an odd sort of expression to his face. “I know you will. That’s the problem.” And then, in spite of himself, he offers you a full-blown smile, cheerful and happy like you’ve never really seen before. You are momentarily struck speechless, mesmerised by the sight before you. “But thank you. I’m glad, that I can count on you.” 

Something warm and eager blooms in your chest at his words. You cup your hands around his face and you admire the openness of his smile. How great would it be, if you could capture that smile in a picture and keep it forever? If you could preserve the way he’s looking at you right now, so that you always remember with clarity that even if he doesn’t love you, Jin can look at you like this. Like you are something precious and adored. This is the man you get to love. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, you’re still happy. You feel like this love is a happy thing. 

“I’m starting to think you only wanted to rest to pull the moves on her.” Jungkook announces his presence, seeming thoroughly unimpressed. He folds his arms as the air shimmers around him, signalling the dispersion of his illusory magic. “‘Let’s go see the river, Jungkook. It’ll be fun. I’ll get over my trauma.’ If you’d told me being a third wheel was in the job description, I never would have come.” Jungkook grumbles as Jin quickly pulls away. You don’t quite catch the way his ears go red and his face seems to burn where your hands had gently cradled him, but Jungkook does, and he merely rolls his eyes at the sight. “It’s time to go.” He urges. 

Jin clears his throat awkwardly, scrabbling to his feet and dusting off his trousers before extending his hand out to you. 

“C’mon.” He urges, though his tone seems gruffer than before. “Jungkook’s right. The Saishtas will find us at this rate.”

You hesitate, just a moment, before gratefully accepting his hand as he tugs you to your feet. 

Oddly, though you expect him to release your hand once you are standing, he does no such thing. Instead, he wraps his hand around yours and uses it to tug you along as the three of you once again set off. 

“It’ll be easier for you to keep up.” Is all Jin offers as explanation for why he continues to grip onto your hand as though you’re planning to flee from him the second that he releases you. You stare in confusion for a moment, trying to puzzle out Jin’s behaviour, but he provides no further insight. 

The three of you set a much more rapid pace this time, and after your brief rest, you cope much better. Jin eventually releases your hand when it becomes clear you’re gradually regaining your strength as your enhanced healing kicks in. The sun begins to draw close to the horizon and the brilliant blue above begins to deepen into a soft pink. But you realise something, as you continue your advance. 

There’s no sound of a river. Over the expansive plains, the river song should carry easily on the warm, sweet breeze. And it should be in view by now, but it’s not. Instead, what you see is a dark, jagged line slicing through the plains like a gaping wound. It’s the edge of a ravine- there’s no river in sight. 

“Something’s not right- “ you breathe, only for the breath to be knocked clean from your lungs as Jin throws his full body weight at you, unprompted. You roll a few times from the force of his tackle, before finally landing with his body crouched over you protectively. Your eyes widen in shock, glancing over to where you had stood moment before, only to see the end of an arrow lodged in the ground.

“See!” Jin croaks, hovering over you. “How hard was that? Tackle, don’t push, (Y/N)! If you’re gonna be saving people at least take that on board.” He scolds, in what is clearly the beginning of a Jant. (Jin rant)

“Now’s not the time, Jin!” Jungkook screeches. 

“I’m just saying,” Jin cries, as he scrambles off you and yanks you to your feet by your good arm. “How hard would it have been to tackle me instead of taking an arrow to the shoulder?” 

His Jant is interrupted by the dreadful sound of the Saishta hunting horn erupting from behind you. Only, this time, there is nowhere to run. Yes, you could easily outrun them, but to where? You have long left the safety of the forest where there are endless places to safely conceal yourself once you’ve outrun them. But here is only open plains, followed by a sheer cliff face. There is a bridge across the river, in the maps you’ve seen, but those maps have also told you there’s a river where there’s nothing but a deathly ravine. Still, the bridge is supposedly about a kilometre south of where you now stand, and it’s your only hope. But will you be able to run that far in this state?

The ravine hovers on the edge of your vision, out towards the west, and you can now make out the hulking forms of the Saishta mounts, as their hunting party makes its slow, arrogant prowl towards you. The mounts of Saishtas do not run- they believe that persistence will allow them to eventually capture any prey. Eventually, all targets must tire, or reach the end, and that is when the Saishta can make the kill. They seem confident that that’s the situation the three of you are in now. You could flee, but if you give away that your destination is the river (or ravine?), you’ll never be able to safely see it, for they will guard it until the end of time.

“Sssurrender!” They call, now barely a hundred metres away.

“We’ll have to fight.” You announce to your companions, who both whip their heads around to glare at you with incredulity. 

“Are you crazy?” Jungkook cries. 

You clench your teeth as you slip into a familiar stance, holding up your arms as you prepare to fight. 

“It’s our only option.” You point out, wincing as your shoulder protests at the stance you are currently in.

Jin takes one look at you and the advancing Saishtas and then he does possibly the most unexpected thing he could have done. 

He throws you over his shoulder like you are a sack of potatoes and legs it. 

“This way!” Jungkook encourages, zooming southwards towards where you know the bridge is.

“Jin!” You cry in protest, but he doesn’t respond. “Jin, stop! I was going to fight them!”

“No!” Jin snaps. “You were going to die. Or at least, you were going to try to and this time I’m not letting you.”

You stop struggling, slumping against his back. 

“Not again.” Jin promises. “You won’t get hurt again. ‘I won’t stop and think while you’re in danger.’” He tells you, echoing your earlier words to him. For some reason, it leaves you unable to retort. “Now if I set you down, will you run with me, or will you do something stupid?” 

You purse your lips in annoyance, trying to hold yourself stable as you flop around on Jin’s shoulder. You can see the Saishta making their slow, confident prowl behind you. They won’t shoot any more arrows at this proximity- after all, their aim is to capture you, not kill. 

“I’ll run.” You silently agree. Jin gives you absolutely no warning as he practically flings you back onto the ground, grabbing your hand as he tugs you on in a full-on sprint. 

“We’re almost there!” Jungkook cries, zooming slightly ahead of the two of you. Ahead, the great stone structure that comprises the great bridge that can carry you to safety on the other side of the ravine. You swallow your desperate, heaving breaths, ignoring the way your weakened body protests at the exertion. If you can just get to the bridge, there’s a forest on the other side of the river. The three of you can easily conceal yourselves there, and then come back under the cover of night and investigate why there’s a ravine here instead of a river. 

The ground firms beneath you as it transitions from soft, loamy soil to a firm, well cut stone path. An arrow whizzes just past your ear and bounces off the stone path- a warning shot from the pursuing hunting party. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as the three of you reach the edge of the bridge. The ravine is huge, and the bridge stretches ahead of you. 

And then it sounds. Another hunting horn, a sound that will probably haunt you for the remainder of your days. But this one is from the opposite side of the bridge, where you are fleeing to. 

Jin’s footsteps slow alongside yours, and Jungkook’s frantic buzzing becomes a slow, confused flutter as the three of you gradually draw the same conclusion. 

You’re trapped. There are Saishtas awaiting you on either side of the bridge. No matter which way you try to break through, you will have to fight through them. No wonder they were so confident they could catch you.

“We’ll have to fight.” You breathe, trying to slow your exhausted, rapid breathing. Jin is soaked with sweat and even Jungkook seems flushed with the exertion of your desperate sprint. 

“We can’t.” Jin reminds you, out of breath and still gripping onto your hand so hard it hurts. “You’ll die.”

“We’ll die if they capture us too!” You point out. You can now see the Saishtas on both ends of the bridge, closing in on the three of you like a pack of hunting dogs. “I’m so sorry Jin- this is all my fault! It’s not even a river- it’s some kind of ravine! I dragged us all the way here for nothing.”

“Jin!” Jungkook calls, but you ignore him, too caught up in the realisation of what you’ve done. 

“He told me nature doesn’t change but that was stupid! Of course it changes- it’s been 1000 years and I just believed like an idiot that the river would still be here.” You cry, tears flowing down your face. 

“Jin!” Jungkook calls, and this time, Jin claps free his hand over your mouth to stop your desperate monologuing. 

“What now?” Jin demands of the small pixie. The pixie in question bites his lip and looks from side to side at the Saishtas who watch you almost lazily across the length of the bridge. They have all the time in the world, after all- where can the three of you go except over the edge of the bridge, where you will surely meet your demise?

“‘The river loves those who take the plunge.’” Jungkook recites, gesturing out to the endless, gaping ravine behind you. 

You stare in confusion, but understanding dawns in Jin’s eyes as he leans over the low stone wall and stares down at the bottomless pit. He goes white and his hand tightens on your own to the point you are wincing with pain. 

“(Y/N),” Jin calls, not lifting his gaze from the ravine. “Do you trust me?” 

You blink, glancing over at the Saishtas who draw closer and closer with each moment. You’re not sure why he’s asking this now of all times, but your answer still comes easily. 

“With my life.” You answers solemnly. He glances at you, surprised by your words, before his gaze softens and he smiles weakly at you. Then, he releases your hand and slowly he lifts himself up onto the stone wall. 

“Then take the plunge.” He tells you, holding his hand out to you. 

Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s trying to do. You glance at Jungkook, who merely nods at you, and then at the Saishtas who chatter in confusion at Jin’s actions. 

And finally, you look up at Jin, into the eyes of the man you love, and you know that even if it’s crazy, you really do trust him with your life. 

He tugs you up onto the wall and pulls you close, cradling your head in the palm of one hand and wrapping his other arm around your waist to hold you close. It reminds you of when you had arrived in this realm. He’s always held you like this, you realise. Like you are something precious to him, something he could never bear to lose. 

You lift your gaze to him and meet his eyes, filled with fear, and he smiles. The Saishtas realise what is happening right as Jin takes a step backwards, off the edge of the bridge. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as the two of you plummet down into the ravine below, Jungkook in close pursuit. 

The last thing you hear before the darkness swallows you up is the desperate, furious roars of the Saishtas, thwarted once more.

++

When you come to, it is on a slightly damp, sandy surface. Jin is still unconscious next to you, with an arm thrown protectively over your waist. As you sit up, his arm slides off you, and you move away, taking in your surroundings.

You’re on a sandy riverbank- dark, inky waves lap at the surface in what is largely a calm, but dark river. 

Overhead, you can see the clear, starry sky peeking at you through the jagged crack exposed by the top of the ravine. The river before you catches small flashes of starlight, but otherwise the area is largely dark. 

That is, until a torch beam lands on you and you are nearly blinded by the sudden, intense light. 

“Ow!” You cry out, unable to see who is on the other side of the beam. 

“Sorry!” Jungkook hastily apologises, struggling to hold up the weight of your pompompurin torch. “I was looking for something.”

You rub at your eyes, which are now streaming with tears. 

“Looking for what?” You ask, when your vision is finally cleared enough to make out Jungkook’s outline in the meagre lighting. Jungkook is silent for a moment, before hoisting the torch up even though it’s larger than him and directing it at the wall. 

“This.” He says, and then he turns the light on.

You don’t know what you were expecting with Jungkook’s actions, but what you find is dozens of inscriptions along the cliff wall. Some are deeply engraved, and some are mere scratches, but they all seem to have different messages. 

“What... what is all this?” You question in wonder. 

“Messages.” Jungkook answers. He turns to look at you, dropping the torch into your hand so that you can freely exam the numerous inscriptions. “That’s what people come to the river of stars to do. To leave a message that will last through all of time.”

You blink and turn to look at the river behind you. It just looks like a normal river, albeit at the bottom of a ravine. But there’s no glowing plants, and if you hadn’t just plummeted off the edge of a bridge, you wouldn’t even know there was a river. 

“This... isn’t what I expected, when I pictured this place.” You finally say. “How did we survive that fall, Jungkook?” 

When you turn to look at Jungkook, he is gazing out across the river with an almost forlorn look upon his face. 

“Well, you’ve probably guessed this isn’t a normal river.” Jungkook says. “It’s actually got special magical properties- that’s how those glowing plants are able to grow here. And how you were able to survive the fall- this place is so filled with magic that amazing things can happen, like people plummeting hundreds of feet and surviving the fall, or beautiful, rare plants growing. Or rare mythical creatures being born.”

Jungkook turns to you and fans his arms out on either side of him, gesturing at the space around him. 

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time. This river has another name, (Y/N).” He tells you. “It’s known as Gebulfen, the birthplace of the pixie. This is where I was born.” 

“Where you were born?” Jin groans, sitting up and rubbing at his forehead. Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the guardian in question. 

“Is there an echo here? Why are you repeating what I just said?” He pouts. But he zooms over to Jin and lands on his outstretched knee. “Good work though. I wasn’t sure you’d work out what I meant when I told you that old saying, but you did!”

“You could have just said it outright.” Jin grumbles, hoisting himself to his feet. His gaze briefly flickers over you, assessing for injuries. 

“Then the Saishtas would have worked out we were planning to jump.” Jungkook shrugged. “The only reason we had as much time as we did was because they thought we had nowhere to go.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” Jin grumbles, lifting his gaze to where you can just make out the outline of the great stone bridge you had plummeted from. “I guess they probably think we are dead now. Maybe it’ll be easier to get home.”

Home... that’s the next step of the journey for you. Jin’s words trigger the revelation for you- you’ve reached the end of your journey. You’ve finally made it to the River of Stars, like you’ve dreamed about for so many years. You stare in bewilderment across the smooth, dark surface of the river, taking in the soft sounds of the rushing water. 

Gebulfen... the pixie birthplace. You had never heard that name before, nor had Jungkook ever chosen to share any information with you about his life in this realm. 

“Are you disappointed?” The pixie in question asks, hovering close to your ear so that the rush of air from his wings tickles your ear. He flutters around to face you, before leaning in close and smiling. He hovers in the space between your eyes so that you have to go cross-eyed to focus on him. “That there’s no lights?”

“Ayla said there wouldn’t be.” Jin says, coming up to stand level with you. “I didn’t want to believe her, but it looks like-“

“Not so fast,” Jungkook hastily corrects Jin, fluttering forward to hold his tiny hands over Jin’s mouth so that he can’t talk anymore. “Ayla was incorrect. I can’t blame her, because it’s been over a thousand years since anyone has remembered the truth of this river. The lights do exist. But the plants only light up in response to a special kind of magic.” 

“What magic?” You ask, unable to hold back your curiosity. You had come all this way to see the river lights, after all. Jungkook smiles, releasing Jin so that he can flutter up to you. 

“I’ve always known you didn’t listen in your tutoring classes as a child because you didn’t know how I was born.” He tells you, instead of telling you what magic needs to be performed to see the lights. “Pixies are born of wishes, and they come to life at this very river. And our purpose... is to see the wish that birthed us come through.” 

“What does that have to do with the river ligh-“ you protest but Jungkook cuts you off. 

“Hush. I’m getting there. That’s what the plants respond to. Pixie magic.” He finishes his explanation. “Not my silly illusory spells, but real, ancient, powerful pixie magic.”

“So, to see the lights, and for (Y/N) to be able to go home, we... we have to grant whatever wish you were born to fulfill?” Jin asks, having always been a bit quicker than you to put things together. Jungkook nods, shooting two finger guns at the two of you playfully. 

“Bingo!” Jungkook cries cheerfully. “You’re smarter than you look! Perhaps there’s use for you yet.”

An odd feeling fills you at Jungkook’s words, however. You’ve known the pixie for a long time. Despite his best efforts to appear constantly unbothered and joking, there’s a lot that Jungkook hides behind a smile. Like his longing to be human... his loneliness... the fact that there are hopes and dreams he’s always longed to fulfil but knows he never can. Jungkook has always hidden behind a smile and right now he’s hiding again. 

“What... what are you hiding?” You ask. Jungkook looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before he quickly conceals the expression. 

“Shouldn’t you ask me what wish I need to grant? So that you can see the lights?” He points out. You shake your head, stepping in close, but Jungkook moves backwards, out of reach. His posture is now defensive, and you know, more certainly than ever, that Jungkook is hiding something. Why else would he not have mentioned the wish he was born to fulfil, in thirteen years of knowing you? Why is he only telling you the truth of Gebulfen now, after an entire journey travelling to see it? 

“Jungkook...” you say softly, your voice barely audible above the rush of the river. He deflates at the soft, concerned tone of your voice. You hold your hands out to them, and he lands in them. 

“I’ve always been really happy being with you, (Y/N).” Jungkook says, as you raise him so that he is eye level with you. He stretches out a hand and rests it against the tip of your nose. “With you, Taehyung... with your mother... even with that big oaf and his family over there. It’s been really fun. Even if I had to live in the human realm, I’ve always had friends. And I know you guys care a lot about me. So... I was never brave enough to bring up my wish. I wanted to stay with you guys, and to keep having fun. To keep learning to dance off YouTube, and to keep bringing your houseplants to life when they died... I liked stealing the cookies from your upstairs neighbour when she left the room and I liked swapping Jin’s shoes around before he left for work in the morning-“

“I knew that was you, you little twerp-“ Jin cries in outrage, but you silence him with a glare before turning your attention back to Jungkook. For some reason, he suddenly seems small and fragile in your hands in a way he never really has before. 

“I knew... a part of me was always afraid that when I granted my wish, it would be goodbye.” He confesses, and for the first time in his entire life, a tear trickles down Jungkook’s face. You can only stare in bewilderment, barely processing his words. 

“Goodbye?” You echo. Jungkook nods, with a teary smile. 

“I don’t know what happens, to a pixie who has granted a wish. I’ve tried to research it- I’ve had Taehyung bring me back books from this realm, and I’ve studied the history. But in the entire history of this realm, of my race... there’s no mention of what happens to us after. There’s no pixie settlements or communities. There’s no monuments to our names... there’s nothing. It’s like we... it’s like we vanish.” He confesses, and the tears are coming full force. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should have granted this wish years ago but I was scared that I-“

“You might die?” You fill in for him. Jungkook hesitates for a moment before nodding. 

“I don’t know.” He says. “There’s no pixie manual. I just know that I have to grant the wish and then-“

“Screw the wish!” You cry, cutting him off. Jungkook’s eyes widen. 

“What?” He asks. You release him, stepping back and gazing around the ravine. 

“Screw the wish.” You repeat, now searching for an echo. “Why risk your life? Why would I want you to risk your life? If you don’t know what happens if you grant the wish, then we’ll just never grant the wish and you’ll be fine-“

“(Y/N),” Jungkook calls sternly, zooming so that he’s in front of you. “I have to grant the wish.” 

“Why?” You cry, and you realise there are tears sliding down your face. Jin watches the whole exchange in silence. “Why do you have to grant the risk? Why do we have to risk you vanishing? Why would you go that far over a stupid river?” 

Jungkook smiles gently, reaching up one arm to wipe away the fat tears that spill down your face- it soaks the entire arm of his jacket. 

“It was your father’s wish.” He tells you gently, still smiling the whole time. 

You feel like the world around you freezes. Like for a moment, you heart stops beating and the world stops turning. You stare, frozen in shock, as Jungkook continues. 

“He came here when you were first born. It’s a tradition for the Qu’var to journey to this river when they want to leave a message that will withstand the test of time. The river, and the unique magic that flows here, will protect it. But anyone who comes here has the river magic in them. And when those people make an earnest wish, from the bottom of their heart, then a pixie is born in this river. And your father, in his dying moments, many, many years after coming here, wished with all his heart that he could have shown you this place. That he could have shown you the message he wrote to his baby daughter. And that’s how I was born.” 

“It’s not fair.” You sob, crying in full now. Jin is silent- he chooses not to step in. This isn’t about him, after all. “Why did he have to do that? Why could he have just lived and shown me himself? Why do I have to lose you too? Why can’t we just never see the message and then you can stay?”

“Because of the spell.” Jungkook reminds you. “You can’t go home until you see the dancing lights because of the charm I put on you. Do you remember?”

More tears spill down your face as you remember the spell in question. You had thought at the time, that it was Jungkook just trying to force you to get over yourself. You had believed him when he said he’d cast it so that you couldn’t chicken out of something you wanted to do. But you realise now why he cast that spell- it was so that he couldn’t chicken out. So that, no matter what, he’d grant his wish and get you to see that message. 

“We’ll stay here. Jin can tell my mum what happened, and we can live out the rest of our days here!” You plead, desperate. “Then you don’t have to-“ 

“(Y/N).” Jungkook comes in close and presses on your cheek, until you are facing the cliff wall with all the inscriptions on it. Then he flutters over to the discarded torch, heaving it up in his arms with a huff, and holding it out to you. “It’s ok. It’s really ok. I want this. I’ve had my fun with you guys, but it’s not like I’ve really been living a proper life like this. The only people I can talk to are guardians, and they’re so scattered across the human realm. I spend my days watching YouTube videos and talking to moths and waiting for you guys to come home from work. I’ve lived this life as much as I can, but now it’s your turn. I want you to live a full and happy life, and for you to have a family and grow old in the human realm. I don’t want you to be trapped here with me so that I can live half a life for the rest of your days.”

“But,” you protest tearily. “You’re my best friend.” 

“And you’re mine.” Jungkook says with a beam. “But now it’s time.” 

And then he pushes your arm until the torch lands on an inscription with handwriting you thought you’d never see again. 

Your father, even back then, even on stone, has always had beautiful writing, like he could have been a calligrapher if he had the time or resources. Perhaps that’s why he wanted to leave you a written message. You step forward in disbelief until you can read the inscription, the words of the man you’ve missed so much. 

(Y/N), 

My precious, beautiful daughter. 

Your mother didn’t want me to make this journey, but she eventually gave in because she knew how important it was to me. 

I wonder what kind of situation we’ll read these words together in? What kind of woman will you grow up to be? Will you be married with children when I finally take you here? That little Seokjin is only a toddler but he’s already charming all the ladies in the village- maybe you’ll marry him! Or I hear Jihye is pregnant. Perhaps her child? 

But the reason I wrote this is because I want you to know that no matter what happens, or what roads we walk down in the future, that I will love you and protect you with all of my heart. You are the most beautiful and precious thing I have ever laid my eyes on, and I hope you will always know that. 

I love you. I hope that one day, even if it’s without me, that you get to see these words and know, that from before you were born, I have loved you. 

Please, please, whatever situation you read these words in, please be happy.

From your father. 

The inscription is rough beneath your fingers as you smooth your fingers over it. It hurts to see those words, to know the moments you can never have with your father because he’s gone. And you’ll never get him back. There’s no magic spells or special river or pixie magic that can bring him back to you. 

But, for the first time, you find yourself smiling. Those memories don’t have to be painful. Because you fulfilled his wish- you’re happy. As you read these words, despite everything, you are happy. You have friends and family who love you and who you treasure beyond belief. And it took you a long time to realise it, but you’re so grateful. You’ll never get your father back, and you’ll never fill the hole that he left, but you can be happy. You can move forward with a smile on your face because that’s what he wanted.

Strong fingers wrap around your outstretched hand, and you turn to find Jin reading the words alongside you. 

“He was a good man.” Jin tells you softly, and you smile at him. Jin looks like he has more to say, but he is interrupted by the brilliant glow coming from behind you. 

You turn around and find Jungkook hovering before you. He glows brightly amidst the darkness of the ravine, almost as brightly as the stars overhead. And slowly, the river reacts too. One by one, bursts of light in different, brilliant colours appear and race down the length of the river, like bright, shooting stars. “The dancing river”, one of its many names, suddenly makes sense, as the lights zip and glide along the surface of the water. 

“You did it!” Jungkook cries, and his smile is brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. You scramble forward, but the glow intensifies, and a brilliant light wall springs up between you and Jungkook. 

“No!” You cry. “Please! Don’t go, Jungkook. We still have so much to do together! Please!”

“Be happy, (Y/N).” He calls and then the light brightens until you can see nothing but pure white. 

And then it goes dark. In the absence of light, you can’t see anything before you. Jungkook is gone- he’s gone. Your best friend, your constant, pesky companion, is gone. 

You fall to your knees, sinking into the soft, damp sand, sobbing hysterically. 

“Jungkook.” You cry, your eyes squeezed shut. “Jungkook!”

Your friendship with Jungkook has always been a funny one. You first met him in the dingy room of a motel your mother had managed to book into, those first few nights in the human realm. You hadn’t been able to sleep- the air was uncomfortable and dry and felt leeched of the warm, buzzing magic that had been your constant companion.

You’d snuck out of the room that night and wondered onto the rooftop. Even the stars are dull, in the human realm, and for some reason it had hurt to see that. You’d gazed up into the sky, tear streaming down your face when a voice had sounded beside you.

“What are you looking at?” The little voice had asked.

The rest is history. You’d attempt to swat Jungkook, thinking him to be a mosquito hybrid, one of the weird creatures of this new realm. But he hadn’t been. He was a pixie. And from there, Jungkook had never really left your side. At night, he would sleep on your pillow beside you. When you’d gotten your own room, you’d made a little doll house for him to sleep in, but he’d always slept by your side. He would come with you to school, nestled in your pocket. Some days he’d take some space, but it had reached the point where you can barely remember spending time without him.

And now… could he really be gone? How can he? What does life even look like without him? You can’t fathom it.

You don’t know how long you sit there crying hysterically for, but eventually you feel warm, strong arms wrap around you. It must be Jin, comforting you through the pain of losing your best friend. You bring your fingers up to grip at the material of his shirt.

“(Y/N)!” Jin cries in alarm. But it’s not coming from the proximity you’d expect, considering that he’s currently holding you. No, his voice is coming from somewhere behind you. 

Slowly, you blink your eyes open, and the sleeves of the jacket are not the sleeves of Jin’s jacket. Nor do the arms holding you belong to him. Slowly, you trace the arms up to the shoulders, and then you meet the face of the person holding you. 

It’s Jungkook. But at the same time... it’s not Jungkook. Jungkook was a tiny pixie, with iridescent wings like a dragonfly. With a tiny, round face. He was the size of your hand. 

But the person who holds you is human. There are no pixie wings in sight, and he’s the same size as you- no, he’s even bigger. He rivals Jin’s size. 

But the face is unmistakeably Jungkook. You’d know those round, doe eyes anywhere. 

“J-Jungkook?” You question softly. He pulls away and nods, staring at his palms in confusion like he’s never seen them before. “W-what happened?” 

“I... I don’t know.” He answers, running his hands over himself. He’s wearing the same clothes as before, and he looks exactly the same as he always has, just... human sized. 

“I... I’m human?” 

“It must be the effect of granting the spell.” Jin calls, edging closer so that he can examine Jungkook with wonder. “Maybe... maybe the reason there’s no record of any pixies after they grant the wishes... is because they stop being pixies?”

Jungkook can only stare in confusion. 

“Isn’t your dearest wish to be human? To be able to talk to people and make friends and form human bonds?” Jin continues to reflect. “Maybe... maybe the outcome of a pixie granting a wish... is that they get their deepest wish granted?”

Jungkook just stares with a bewildered expression, glancing over his shoulders for wings that aren’t there. He then scrambles over to the edge of the river, staring in wonder at the human reflection that stares back, from the normal, rounded ear tips to the lack of wings. 

“I’m human?” He questions. Tears fill your eyes as you realise that what Jin is saying is true. 

“You’re human!” You agree. “Jungkook! You’re human!” 

His whole face lights up in excitement. 

“I’m human! Oh my goodness! I’m human! I can go to dance classes! I can study in college! I can get a job! I can... I can...” his expression darkens with mischief and that’s the only warning you get before he hooks an arm around your neck and gives you the most painful noogie of your life. “I can get my revenge.”

Needless to say, the aftermath of such a transformation is absolutely chaotic, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to be mad. Jungkook goes after Jin next, and as Jin flees for his life, you find yourself smiling, despite everything. 

Please be happy, is what your father had pleaded, in the magic of this mystical river. 

I am, dad. Is what you answer from the bottom of your heart in the magic of the river. 

Because you are. 

[twiceasfrustrating]

Hey! Anyone want a wip I will probably never finish, but it's too long to just never post? Take it and know I had plans but my dumb brain said 'no'.

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Diavolo, F!MC

Additional Tags: afab!MC (you/your), AU, yandere, blood, murder, demon summoning, very demonic Diavolo,

Summary: You were supposed to be the sacrifice, but now you have no idea what's happening...

Word Count: 2314

You should have been terrified of the darkness, of the eyes that peered at you through the shadows just beyond the circle in which you'd been spread out like a starfish and bound so tightly the ropes pulled at your joints. Maybe you were just too tired to be afraid or maybe you didn’t care what was about to happen to you; life was a series of disappointments and tragedies and it seemed it would laugh at you one last time before it kicked you to the curb.

You pulled at the ropes that kept you in place, secured by one of those many hooded figures that now lied scattered around the floor in a puddle of their own viscera and fluids you didn’t even want to think about. It smelled almost as disgusting as it looked, but the sight of someone’s head completely detached from shoulders won out in the disturbing factor.

The hulking figure framed by shadows stalked closer to you, blood dripping from his clawed fingers and monstrous fangs glistening in the light of a distant candle that was flickering its last. If there was one good thing about this situation, it was that whatever that thing was had started with everyone else so you could enjoy watching them be torn to shreds; they deserved it. Now, however, it seemed to be your turn to feel those claws and terrible teeth tear through you like wet paper. 

You closed your eyes and braced for the inevitable as that thing kneeled down beside your head, golden eyes focused solely on you. You only caught a glimpse of it before you shut out the world around you; inhumanly long limbs and too many eyes across its body to count; movements that jittered like a bird trying to keep its eye on a fox darting from here to there and bones that creaked with each twitch; black horns stained red at the base and four black wings so large that they looked as if they could swallow up the sky; black fur covered his body is all places but the red hair that ran from its head to down his spine; all the while it jingled with each motion as the golden jewelry hanging off it clattered and clanged.

Time seemed to freeze as you waited for death to claim you, but nothing came. Nothing aside from the feeling of one of your strained arms finally being able to relax as something above you snapped. You slowly blinked your eyes open, glancing upward to where the creature hovered over the other rope and swiped at it with its claw to break the binding before moving down to your legs to do the same.

Once you were free, the creature stared at you, still kneeling down as it jittered and creaked. Its hands reached toward you, placing claws against your cheeks with a kind of gentleness you could not imagine; as if you were ancient porcelain.

It opened its mouth slowly, fangs clashing together as it tried to speak in a voice so deep you felt it reverberate in your chest, “You… called…”

You laid completely motionless as its hands ventured lower, running small tears in the fabric of your clothing as it went.

"I… came…" Its main set of eyes stayed transfixed on you, but the others darted in every which way to look at the bodies scattered about, "They're… gone…"

Your throat felt dry as words refused to come, but his hands still wandered as if it was looking for something.

"Where… is... it…"

"Where is... what?" You finally manage to ask, the panic making you dizzy and brazen.

Each of his eyes focused on you again, head snapping to the side as if confused by your question, "I came… answered you… you keep me… here… I claim you…" 

You pushed your feet against the ground, trying to slide out from under the creature. The fear and shock in your eyes drew it in, making it examine and follow you more closely.

"You're… afraid…"

You didn't know what to do aside from nod and affirm its statement.

"I won't… harm you…" It reached out its bloody claw and you shirked away. It looked so hurt by your reaction.

It was only natural that prey be afraid of its predator, but the creature hadn't shown you a single shred of hostility since it arrived. If anything, it was going out of its way to be gentle with you. 

"One year… I give… you…" It drew closer yet again, this time letting its long, thick tongue roll out of its mouth and taking kitten licks at your cheek as you sat motionless in panic, "We are one… I… wait…"

Then, it stood upright in its entirety so you could see that its knees were backward as it stalked closer to one of the bodies that still lay in puddles of gore on the floor. One large, clawed hand stabbed into the torso of one of the robed figures and came out holding onto a squishy, dark red lump of meat which it proceeded to bring to its mouth. You turned away before you could see what happened next, scurrying to your feet and running as fast as you could up the stairs and through the winding corridors of the building you were in. There were moments where you thought you'd be trapped forever as you found hallways that went around in circles, but you eventually found the exit.

You cursed your luck, not knowing where you were going and having had your cellphone, wallet, and keys taken by those creeps before they'd tied you to the ground. Getting home was going to be a nightmare and a half, plus it was late so most places were going to be closed by now. Maybe you could walk into a police station and pretend to be drunk enough that they'd offer to call someone for you. Or maybe they'd stick you in a holding cell until morning so you could at least sleep indoors.

Damn. This was so inconvenient that you almost wished that weird sacrifice had gone right. At least if it had you wouldn't have to worry about work tomorrow.

---

"So, how did it go?"

You looked up from your computer at the bubbly face staring down at you. A woman with an auburn messy bun and glasses so thick they hid her olive eyes stared down over the wall of the cubicle. She wore a catlike grin as she awaited your answer.

"How did what go?"

She rolled her eyes, "Your date, Silly. It was last night, right?"

That was a hard one to answer, considering what you'd been through since leaving work the previous day. You weren't exactly sure how to tell her that your boyfriend of three months turned out to be part of some crazy cult and tried to sacrifice you to a demon -- which were real, by the way! -- only for him and all of his buddies to be ripped apart by the very thing they were trying to summon.

"We broke up," was probably the most succinct way to put it.

"What? No! He sounded like such a good catch."

"Yeah, well," you shrugged without finishing the statement.

A sane person probably wouldn't have gone into work after something like that, but you needed to make a living and you didn't get paid time off as a data monkey. You just had to get through the day and deal with last night during your break. There were credit cards to cancel, phones to buy, and locksmiths to call. Thank goodness when you got out you'd found a bar still open after stumbling around long enough and asked (read: begged) very nicely to phone a friend for a lift; even more thanks that they didn't pry too deep when they saw the state you were in and let you crash on their couch. Solomon was good people. Although, he did say you smelled like smoke, which seemed rude given what you'd just been through. Not that he knew that, but still.

"Sorry. Maybe next time," she finally said.

"Maybe." Though, you really didn't plan on there being a next time after what you'd just been through. No more dating for you; nothing aside from the kind that required batteries.

"Let's go out tonight. Celebrate being single again."

"Can't. Need to do some other things tonight." Like pass out in your bed and debate if this was real life.

"Fiiiiiine, but tomorrow then."

"Sure. Tomorrow." Maybe by then you would build up the energy to actually keep up with her and not be a complete shell of a person. Although, you weren't sure how you were supposed to pay for anything given you were still missing your wallet. Maybe you could convince her to keep it in one of your homes instead of going out.

Her lopsided smile beamed at you, showing off her off-white teeth, "Be prepared to live it up. No stopping until the crack of dawn." Tomorrow was Friday, after all, so you had all the time to have as much fun as you wanted.

The door to the boss' office swung open suddenly at that moment, causing her to jump back and vanish behind the partition that separated you both. You chuckled at her antics before returning to transferring the data from the files in front of you to the online system. 

The boss walked by, his shoes clicking against the linoleum floor as he made his rounds to ensure everyone was actually doing their job. He was prim and proper as he walked by, his gloved hands kept carefully behind his back as he looked over each cubicle toward the computers. He really was out of place here. Honestly, he came across more as an old nobleman than a manager.

He stopped at yours, seeming confused by your presence, "I was unaware you had come in."

It was strange that he seemed to care at all. He was usually distant from all of the workers under him, leaving you to your own devices as long as you did your work.

"Sorry, Sir. I started working as soon as I came in so I may have missed saying good morning."

He looked you over once before nodding, "I see. You may return to your duties then." Then he continued his rounds.

Seriously, he was weird sometimes. If only you could get a better job, you would quit this one. Maybe you should've been playing the lottery and hoping to make it big. Then again, given your luck, you would either never win or win only to lose the ticket on your way to pick up the jackpot. You just wanted to do anything else with your life than working for a barely livable wage doing the most tedious and boring thing you possibly could. Still, it was better than retail so… Your fingers continued to type away at the keyboard, your eyes only leaving the computer screen to double-check that you were inputting the correct numbers before going back. 

Time passed by quickly enough when you were doing mundane tasks, as boring as they all were. Soon enough, it was your lunch break and your stomach was screaming at you to fill it up. Unfortunately, you still didn't have a wallet to get anything and the only thing you felt safe borrowing from Solomon was an apple. Still, it was better than nothing.

You stood up from your desk, making your way toward the refrigerator where you'd left the modest lunch. Though, it seemed life wasn't done kicking you, as the fruit was gone when you got there. It appeared you were going hungry along with everything else today. Life really did enjoy making you its bitch.

With a sigh, you rubbed the back of your neck and began to walk back to your cubicle to see if you’d somehow left a miniature-sized candy floating around in one of the drawers. Or maybe someone would take pity on you and have a spare bag of chips they’d be willing to give up.

What you saw when you returned, however, made your eyes go wide. Laying next to the computer mouse were the phone, wallet, and keys you’d lost last night. They sat on your desk like a present left behind by some benevolent force and you felt the bile rise up in your stomach.

No one but you had walked away alive that night, of that you were sure. Yet, here was everything you’d lost. There were only two possibilities: either you had somehow completely hallucinated last night and your stuff had been with you the entire time or, the somehow more terrifying possibility, everything really did happen and you were being followed. Your hands ran over the smooth leather of the wallet; warm. It was still warm as if it had just been held only a moment ago.

“Hey,” you called out, “Did anyone stop by my desk, by chance?”

Those olive eyes popped up over the partition again, “Huh?”

“My desk. Did anyone, say, drop anything off?” Surely she had to see something.

But when she shook her head, you felt a cold sweat break out across your forehead, “Why? Was someone supposed to deliver a file for you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek before putting on the best smile you could to try and hide the dread coursing through you, “No. Just making sure no one dumped their work on me while I was gone. You know?”

“Oh gosh, I feel that.” She sighed, ���Good news is they didn’t. Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes wandered down to the glint of light bouncing off your keys and you swallowed the truth down as deep as you could before answering her, “It’s great.”

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work!! I am looking for more but unfortunately I feel like I have read all yhe good Harry Potter docs on Ao3. Do you have any recs?

Sorry for the delay, I just know that whenever I make rec list it usually ends up taking a while.

With that, Harry Potter fics are a big genre. Just saying Harry Potter in general really isn’t that specific to me so this is across genres/character focuses/you name it.

Also, as usual, I’ve been on fanfiction longer and have amassed more favorites there. Some of these are cross posted to Ao3. Similarly, a lot are unfinished, this personally doesn’t bother me but if it bothers you take heed.

Also, you’ll see my embarrassing obsession with Tom Riddle. So, heads up for that.

Stepbrother (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, period piece, in which the two remind me a lot of Nabokov)

Cat Among the Pigeons (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, Psycho-Pass Detective AU, in which I am a beta actually so my promoting this goes without saying)

Til Death Do Us Part (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Voldemort wins AU, which for me does very well with the concept of immortality and what exactly Tom is supposed to do after he wins)

This Tangle of Thorns (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, modern AH AU, a full on Nabokov inspired fic which I enjoy because Lolita)

Delusional (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, sort of. Harry wins the war, goes crazy, checks into a mental hospital. Or he’s not crazy and Voldemort is as unkillable as Palpatine.)

Harry Potter and the Natural 20 (OC insert, D&D inspired, shameless crack. I mostly enjoy the beginning of this but it makes me laugh enough to recommend.)

A Hairy Business (AU, Harry is a deer, he is literally a deer, that’s it. It’s funny.)

Animus, Anima (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time, gets stuck in Tom Riddle’s brain, and it turns out Harry’s responsible for every terrible thing that ever happened. This one was squicky even for me, very well done, but strap in.)

Addendum, He is Also a Liar (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Tom has an inexplicable ability to travel to the future, but only to this random little girl Hermione Granger)

Framed & Fractured (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry gets stuck in an evil painting back in time. Tom is creepy as usual.)

Trying for Eden (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to lecture Tom into morality. It doesn’t work.)

Magical Mirrors (Luna Lovegood and Severus Snape, Luna and Snape stumble on the Mirror of Erised at the same time and strike up a conversation)

Aphelion (Hermione Granger/Loki, MCU crossover, Hermione and Loki strike up the world’s weirdest toxic friendship when Hermione’s young and attending Hogwarts, this leads terrible places as Loki slides into madness and despair)

Wandering Souls (Luna Lovegood and The Undertaker, Black Butler crossover, Luna meets and strikes up a conversation with the Undertaker)

Of Lies Most Beautiful (Tom Riddle, Hunger Games crossover, Tom wins the Hunger Games becaues that’s what he does bitch)

In Wonderland (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry ends up back in the past and decides to raise Tom Riddle. This goes so poorly that the pair almost get eaten by eldritch gods multiple times.)

Rumpelstiltskin, Guess My Name (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Female Harry travels back in time and offers to save Merope’s life/get her Tom Riddle Sr. the non rapey way in return for her firstborn son. Merope thought Harry was joking. She wasn’t joking. In the sequel, also linked, Harry kills Morfin.)

The Eyes (Harry Potter, AU, turns out “the power he knows not” is the power humanity knows not, Harry’s ability to see eldritch abominations and cosmic gods and thus bring them far enough into our reality that they eat everything. And I mean everything.)

Mirror Mirror (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry makes a huge mistake and stops Hulk in the middle of a rampage. This gets him abducted by octopus nazis.)

I See the Moon (Harry Potter and Bruce Banner, MCU crossover, Harry got brain damage from the war and wanders around the middle of nowhere. He runs into Bruce. He’s now Bruce’s only friend.)

You Will Be the Death of Me (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Despicable Me inspired, through a series of convoluted events Tom as the world’s worst father figure ends up raising Harry the sad adorable orphan.)

In Death, Standby (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter (sort of, the authro claims), Tom raises Harry, the only Tom raises Harry that I’ve seen done well because Tom is the world’s worst father. Harry thinks he’s a deformed snake until the age of three.)

Little Harry’s Mirkwood Adventure (Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley, Hobbit Crossover, one of the most Tolkien style crossovers I’ve actually seen and is very good)

A (Self-Imposed) Trap for a Fool (Ginny Weasley, turns out Harry Potter never existed, as in he’s a collective hallucination made up by the entire wizarding world)

McLaggen and From McLaggen with Love (McLaggen, a detective AU then a James Bond style adventure starring McLaggen, the greatest wizard who ever wizarded)

Tom Riddle’s Diary: on keeping devils in the summer (Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle’s antichrist orphan adventures involving exorcism and burning people alive)

and the fates sing (hold on, son) (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry is the son of Loki and like all children of Loki he is a wretched and cursed thing)

A Faulty Master (Harry Potter and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto crossover, Itachi after the massacre of his family has a run in with a master of death Harry, who is a creepy creepy man)

Eye of Reason (Harry Potter/Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians crossover, due to the mythos surrounding his life Harry ceases to be a man and becomes akin to a god)

Flowers for a Ghost (Luna Lovegood and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto Crossover, Luna befriends a blind ghost)

Third Time’s the Charm (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Bruce Banner keeps trying to kill himself and MoD Harry is there to have himself a real good day)

Blind Faith (Bellatrix LeStrange/Tom Riddle, canon compliant, an in depth look at Bellatrix from the escape of Azkaban onward)

Cocktail Time (Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart, Rita does an expose and autobiography detailing the descent of Gilderoy Lockhart and how he became what he became)

Fantastic Elves and Where to Find Them (Harry Potter, canon divergent AU, Harry thinks he’s an elf. That’s it.)

The Twine Bracelet (Colin Creevy, a look at Colin’s death) 

Legal Alien (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry visits New York and an alien invasion breaks out. Culminates with the best, dumb, joke.)

The Root of Desire (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione travels back in time and tries to influence Tom. All this does is inspire his sexual awakening.)

Deadheads (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, a romantic comedy of a kind, culminating in the best dumbest joke)

Give and Take (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione tries to outwit Tom, it ends in despair)

The Road to Somewhere (Harry Potter, Spirited Away crossover, Harry as MoD is in the realm of the spirits)

Absolute (Harry Potter, Harry picks up a death note, he kills everyone)

Fortunate Son (Dudley Dursleys, years afterwards Dudley looks back and writes a memoir and expose about the abuse inflicted on his cousin)

Elective Affinities (Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to discover his parents are assholes and things are more complicated than he imagined)

Juxtaposed (Bod, Graveyard Book crossover, Bod attends Hogwarts)

The Fire Omens (Tom Riddle and a look at WWII)

Broken Toys (Tom Riddle and his useless broken toys)

The Fine Art of Poisoning (Madame Zabini)

A Marriage of Convenience (Pansy and Theo get married)

Reparabilis (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom becomes a professor, he still destroys Harry Potter)

The Unforgivable Curses (Draco Malfoy, a look at the 4th year unforgivable lecture with Moody and the Slytherins)

Ugly (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy one sided Dudley/Harry Potter, Dudley’s fat, ugly, and creeps on his cousin)

Three Can Keep a Secret (Harry Potter, on secrets and secret keeping)

Caveat Incimici (Hermione Granger, on Hermione and her terrifying wrath)

Babylon (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry never gets rid of Tom)

Wonderful Tragic Mysterious (Luna Lovegood and Albus Dumbledore, Luna Lovegood time travels and becomes a young Albus’ neighbor)

In the Clockface, Weighted and Weary (Harry Potter/Ariana Dumbledore, Harry after DH ends up back in time in Dumbledore’s childhood and witnesses the beautiful Dumbledore family dysfunction)

Eternal Return (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry is reincarnated as Tom Riddle and as a result becomes Voldemort so that a Voldemort exists)

Like Pale Fire (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, the Founders are resurrected and it turns out Harry had travelled to the past and become Salazar Slytherin, turns out the Founders were more complicated than people expected.)

12 Moves Sideways (Harry Potter and Light Yagami, Death Note crossover, Light becomes the Defense Professor, for once Harry does not figure out the mystery.)

A Very Young Girl’s Record of Her Own Impressions (Ariana Dumbledore’s diary)

Night Comes Early (Moody on war)

Little Witches (The Black family women and how it all falls apart)

Paved with Good Intentions (Petunia on finding a baby on her doorstep)

Emerald Serpent for Vanity (Draco and Nagini introspective)

Blue (Tom Riddle/Bellatrix LeStrange, Voldemort wins dystopia, Tom visits Bellatrix’s grave and is very crazy)

Eighteen (Hermione Granger, on Hermione’s betrayal of her parents)

Ouroboros (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, on what they’ve made of each other)

Not so Different (Scout, To Kill a Mockingbird Crossover, Scout reflects on the wizarding world’s raicsm)

Traitor (Hermione Granger, Hermione is captured by the Death Eaters and commits unspeakable acts to free herself)

Smashing Mirrors (Tom Riddle, introspective)

Twelve Dark Moons (Luna Lovegood/Tom Riddle, Luna becomes a captive of the dark lord)

Full Circle (Harry Potter, Harry wins and is miserable)

The Web of a Thousand Spiders (Luna Lovegood on the diary)

The Metronome (The fall of Lucius’ entire generation)

Understand (Hermione Granger and her betrayal of her parents)

Tea with the Headmaster (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, the pair have tea)

This Grief Feeling (Hermione Granger and Severus Snape after the end)

After Innocence (The trio after the end)

Of Great Turmoil and Excess Stupidity (Sesshomaru and Hagrid, Inuyasha crossover, Hagrid decides to capture a demon for class)

What’s Left of Hope (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, on preserving hope)

In His Keep (Severus Snape and Luna Lovegood, Snape informs Luna her father has died)

Wednesday (Petunia Evans, introspective)

In the Presence of Angels (Moody in WWII)

What He Grows to Be (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter raises Tom Riddle in the past and it goes horribly wrong)

Being Cassandra (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Tom, and their strange AU friendship)

The Girl (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, a fem Harry Potter keeps accidentally appearing in Tom’s childhood)

Corruption (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom wins AU and female Harry slowly becomes corrupted)

One Night Stand (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, a wonderful look on the first war, Tom Riddle, Lily Evans, the Order of the Phoenix, and terrorism)

The Voldemort Principle (Severus Snape, turns out Snape was Voldemort the whole time and Harry is a lying liar who lies)

Harry Potter and the mountain of pure diamond (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry has become an ageless god who travels worlds and decides to raise Tom Riddle. He’s disturbed when he realizes Tom is more of a person than he is)

A Road Less Travelled By (Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry’s a veela, just read it, it’s amazing, I know I sound crazy but it is)

Transformation (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Draco gets eaten by the Forbidden Forest and then Harry gets eaten too)

Rock Bottom (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom gets trapped being defense professor and has a miserable time)

[myelocin]

Edelweiss | Bokuto Koutarou

Synopsis: Fatherhood on your husband looked something like this:

Characters: Bokuto Koutarou, You, Your son (i have no name sdfjh im sorry)

Warnings/Genre: None! Fluff

Word count: 700+ (Drabble)

a/n: I’m working on a multi chap for the inferior twin Atsumu, but I got sidetracked and got in my feelings about dad!bokuto again so... enjoy the fruits of my feelings.

I refuse to admit I have a problem with parent au’s pls don’t judge me

-

There was something strangely tranquil in the atmosphere when Bokuto would rock your child to sleep. His presence became familiar to you in bouts of smiles, boisterous laughter, and radiance, but this was a welcome contrast.

Fatherhood to him looked like this: his hulking frame cradling your newborn in his arms, a soft sway, and gleaming eyes that looked at the sleeping infant, then back at you with so much love.

You, having giving birth just hours ago sat in the bed, closely watching the tender exchange between a first time father and son.

“Kou, can you come closer please?”

He walked towards you with slow, feather like steps and sat in the chair next to you. You watched, mildly entertained at how delicate he was with his actions. He had the same look when he was walking on eggshells around you during your more moody months in your pregnancy; tongue slightly peeking out of his lips and eyes darting to and from you checking to see if what he did pissed you off, or in this case, checking to see if he disturbed his son’s sleep.

You laughed and leaned closer to the edge, supporting your weight with your elbow as you peeked at the newborn. “You’re all good, Kou, he’s fast asleep.”

“(Y/n)!”, you met his eyes and you could swear to God, that they sparkled. “He’s so tiny!!”

Your finger grazed your son’s cheek before squeezing Bokuto’s bicep, “You just have big arms, Kou.”

While you were smiling at your comment, your husband looked at you suddenly looking worried, brows furring over. “I’m not going to crush him am I? Oh my God, (y/n), please carry him instead.”

You threw your head back and laughed, then eventually biting your lip to contain your laughs because of your husband’s lack of response and the chance of disturbing your son’s sleep. “He’s fine, babe. You’re fine, too. You’re doing great.”

Bokuto pouted looking at his son, “I don’t wanna hurt him though. Maybe I should lose some muscle? We’re not in season anyway.”

“Kou, you’re not losing your job. Also, your arms are the reason why this is happening in the first place.”

Hearing your words, you could almost smirk at how fast his mood picked up. He looked at you with a haughty expression, “Not my fault you have a thing for arms. But, we can try for another one, if you want.”

You snorted. “I literally just gave birth.”

“Well, not right now. Maybe tomorrow or something.” You would have responded verbally, but the slight tilt at the corner of his lips and the gleam in his eyes told reassured you that he was back to his good mood.

The silence enveloped the room again, but it was comfortable. Bokuto tried his hand at humming a lullaby, but kept changing his mind midway through the song and switching to another tune. You laid on your back, head slightly tilted to the side as you alternated between looking at the two and taking pictures.

After a while, he finally settled with playing edelweiss on his phone and stood up to slowly sway along the music, holding the baby. He was quiet, his golden eyes gleaming even brighter. You pressed record.

“Hey (y/n).”  He hadn’t taken his eyes off of your son’s sleeping face.

You kept the camera facing towards the two, “Yeah?”

“I’m really a dad now.”

You smiled. “Yeah, Kou. And you’re doing great.”

“I bet Akaashi’s gonna think that we have the cutest baby.”

You laughed. Bokuto looked towards you and met your eyes past the camera. “(Y/n), I love you so much.”

Through the years, Bokuto had always been your ray of sunshine, number one hype man, and best friend. But today, less than 12 hours after your son had met the world, you realized fatherhood on him looked like this: a gentle sway, gleaming eyes, and feather light kisses on a sleeping baby’s forehead.

You knew from this day forward, the dynamic that the two of you had established would change. But as you met his gaze and heard his quiet “I love you” once again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to doubt and instead believed that everything would turn out more than fine.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #21: Dashing

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: 18th Century Caribbean/ Non-Canon   Lemon: lime CW: Mild Nudity/ Swearing/ Incest/ NO Lemons/ Small Limes/Violence

A/N: 

Bold/Italic indicates that a character is writing. 

Italic(with no Bold)  indicates a character’s inner thoughts. 

This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to represent a shred of historical accuracy in any way. 

Dashing

Dearest mother, 

is this truly where you envisioned my life to carry me?  Did you foresee that your dutiful daughter, Elsa, would be crated onto a ship bound for worlds unknown when you married her to Lord Hans Westergaard of the Dutch West India Trading Company? Did you not wish to keep your only daughter close, say on the same continent? I apologize, I should not start a letter so drearily. Conceal, don’t feel. It has been weeks at sea and I am fatigued. Before I forget, I must thank you for the wonderful parting gift. A book of dashing swashbucklers to distract from the otherwise ceaseless monotony of blue only occasionally broken by a thin veil between Heaven and Poseidon. We have entered a bit of unfortunate weather and the ship rolls like a devil. The thunder grows ever louder, and sometimes it sounds as if it’s right on top—

The wooden crate that was the captain’s quarters flipped on its side. Tables, chairs, and a lady found themselves tumbling across the lacquered walls of the gilded box before falling back to the polished floor now stained with spilled ink and a smattering of blood. 

Elsa held her head as she shook off the ringing in her ears. The doors to the cabin burst open where a panicked, and soaked, Hans Westergaard stood with arms outstretched between the paneled glass and his heart beating to the drone of endless rain.

“Hans..? What was—” 

“Pirates!! Hurry, hide yourself! They are already boarding!”  

Pirates? Attacking in the middle of a storm?

Elsa’s thoughts were cut short by the screams of men slicing through the roar of thunder and canons. Hans had locked the door behind him, leaving the fear to bubble within her corset. She frantically ran to the closet, but her hands had begun to shake as she fumbled with the latch. 

Another loud *THOOM* rocked the cabin, but this time it was against the locked door. 

Elsa finally got the latch open and threw herself inside amongst the forest of silk and linen. From within her sanctuary, all she could do was listen and pray. 

 *THOOM* 

Glass and wood crashed. 

Heels of heavy boots knocked.

*knock*

*knock*

The shrill of Elsa’s breath. 

She held her quivering lips and tried to force the air back into her lungs. 

The *knock* of boots grew. It trickled, slowly, until the canals of her ears were flooded. So close that she felt as if she would overflow with the anxiety and trapped air. 

Then silence. 

God, please protect me. Or send someone to protect me. Please, send anyone! Send Mr. Crusoe if you have to!

She was hit with a blinding light…

and a hand around her throat. 

NO!! Get your filthy hands off me!

She screamed in her mind for her voice was clutched in the coarse grip around her neck. She fought with all her pampered might, her arms striking in all directions until they too were held in place by a second firm shackle. 

Finally, Elsa managed to force her voice through the death grip. 

“Get…. your brutish hands… OFF ME!!” 

Blackness began to overtake her vision. The brute had her lifted against the back of the closet, her feet dangled in the air and the force around her neck tightened. 

Her ears were once again flooded, but with the sound of her own heartbeat as the blood in her veins struggled to course. Until a most unexpected sound washed everything else into non-existence. 

“Elsa…?” 

….

That voice… a woman’s voice? I am being manhandled by a woman? And how does she know my name? 

Elsa forced the darkness in her eyes to recede. The grip loosened and she fell to the closet floor. All she could see through the blur of burst veins was a wide, feathered hat, impossibly maroon hair, braided and beaded and rather filthy, and two verdant gems staring with a wide-eyed familiarity. 

I know those eyes… 

…..

“Anna…?” 

Her attacker backed away, seemingly unsure of what she was looking at. 

They stood within that broken, gilded box of a captain’s cabin. Alone with the sounds of swords and gunfire lost amongst the storm of surprise and uncertainty surrounding them. 

Elsa could not bear it any longer. 

“What happened to your hair?” 

And years of separation vanished. 

“My HAIR?! It’s been ten years and the first thing you do is judge my hair?!? Not, ‘oh hey, Anna, you look good for a dead girl’ or ‘oh my darling little sister, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you terribly?’. Either of those things would have been more normal!” 

Elsa picked herself up and gently caressed the rapidly forming bruise around her neck.

“Nothing about this is normal! You tried to strangle me!”

“Oh relax. I was just trying to stop you from screaming and then knock you out.” 

“Ah, I see. I am most relieved to hear that your plan was to simply render me unconscious.”

Anna’s head jerked back in a motion of mild disgust. 

“Why are you talking like that? You didn’t use to sound so hoity-toity.” 

Elsa looked rather indignant at the accusation as she mumbled “It’s not ‘hoity-toity’. Its grace and sophistication”. 

“Well, you’re not in a graceful or sophisticated situation so come on.”  

Anna grabbed her slender arm and she had almost forgotten that the hulking brute who was upon her moments before was the same lithe girl pulling her out into the rain as easily as a toddler dragging her teddy. The rain had washed the image of her sister away and all that was left was a pirate. 

And her fear. 

The ship rocked, lulled by the sudden absence of violence. Elsa found herself before a horde of men. Each one a more frightening image than the last and each one fit into her imaginary brute far better than the frame of her sister. 

So much for Mr. Crusoe…

An immensely rotund man stepped forward with a sneer in his mouth and a hunger in his eye. Elsa had no idea someone got so large living on a ship. “Oi Cap’n! You found a bit o’ treasure there!” 

His grubby hand reached for Elsa’s bosom in the most indelicate manner before a blade came between his dirty fingernail and the lace of her corset. 

“You know the rules, Bob,” Anna said with a voice commanding Poseidon’s wrath. “You touch her and you lose a finger.” 

Bob had the look of a scolded schoolboy as Anna dragged Elsa to the edge of the ship. “Aw cap’n… you always get the blonde ones!” 

Anna spun around in a fury, leaving Elsa to stand perilously on the thin plank that formed a makeshift bridge. She panicked as she fought for her balance in her heels and voluminous dress that was gaining pounds of water every second. 

“You shut your hole or I will shove Pete’s peg leg so far down your throat that you’ll be a three-legged barstool on Tortuga with a sign that says ‘reserved for Whale-Butt Willie’. Do I make myself CLEAR?” 

*Silence* as the men all looked at each other in submission. 

“Aye, cap’n…” 

Elsa swung her arms in vain to save herself from falling when Anna decided to skip the plank altogether, lifted her like a commoner’s bride, and leaped across the gap between ships. She was carried to a new gilded box, although this one noticeably less gilded but with significantly richer contents. 

“Let go of me, Anna! I am not a child, I am your older sis—” 

Elsa landed on her butt as Anna crossed her arms. 

“No, you’re not. Because your little sister died ten years ago. Now be quiet while I think of what to do with you.”

Elsa did her best to wring the rain out of her skirt, channeling the fear and anger building from her situation. 

“What to do with me? You mean like the other ‘blondes’? Tell me, Anna, what exactly do you plan to do with me?” 

“Elsa, don’t.”

“Not only do you slay men, but you bed women as well? Do you mean to have your way with me?” The anger was rapidly overtaking her fear as she glared at her little sister who still stood with her arms crossed, looking away.

“What? Gross, you’re my sister!” 

“I don’t claim to know the depravities you pirates get up to. And you just said that I am not your sister. How am I to interpret that other than to treat you as you appear. A pirate who’s kidnapped me.” 

Elsa’s gaze turned hard as thoughts filled her head of all the women Anna had grabbed by the neck and forced her will upon. 

“…How could you, Anna?”

Anna’s shoulders visibly stiffened. 

“I said, don’t.” 

But Elsa did anyway. 

“How could you do that to those women? You have your way with them and then what? Sell them into slavery? Is that my fate? You call yourself a woman while forcing—” 

*SLAP*

Elsa stood, speechless, as a red brand formed across her cheek. The pain was nothing compared to the shock that came from her sister’s palm now embedded into her skin.  

“Don’t you DARE judge me! You have been out here for all of five minutes. I have been on these waters since I was twelve FUCKING YEARS OLD! You don’t think I have had to put up with some shit?! You stand there in that ivory tower and judge my life when you don’t know the first thing about it!” 

Anna’s chest was heaving in rage while she stood pointing an accusatory finger. Elsa remained motionless and silent, still trying to process the sensation across her cheek and the words being said. 

Anna’s breathing started to calm. She crossed her arms again and turned so that she didn’t have to look at the bright red memento left behind by her hand. 

“I…I don’t force them. I never force them. Don’t assume you know what life has been like for me. I could never do those things. I would never. My ship has rules, and those rules include being god-damned respectful so you better be god-damned respectful of me.”

Elsa’s fingers spread across her cheek, matching tip-for-tip against the first contact she has had with her sister since they were children. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. 

“You’re right. I don’t know what your life has been like. I don’t know what drove you to run away, but I have a pretty good idea seeing as how I lived it in your stead. Perhaps… I sound so much like mother because…

… I was left behind.”

Anna felt the words land across her cheek as assuredly as Elsa felt her palm. She refused to turn and look at her sister. The shame of the truth was staring at her from across her own cabin and she would not bear it. She quietly stormed toward the door. 

“Anna…? Where are you going?” 

Still refusing to turn, Anna simply said “someone needs to pilot the ship” and walked into the rain. 

I sat alone, looking out my window for years wondering if she would ever return to me, and now that she has she slaps me and holds me captive so that she can decide my fate?

Storm be damned, Elsa launched herself through the doors and turned toward the banister that led to the helm above. Her adrenaline-fueled legs carried her halfway up the stairs before she saw Anna at the wheel, staring at her in absolute shock. 

Their eyes met and time seemed to slow to a fraction. Elsa felt the sound of Anna’s name on her breath as she began to release it into the howling wind. She didn’t feel the rain, or hear the shouting, or see the pully flying through the air as it slammed into her skull. All she knew was that she was about to yell out her sister’s name after she failed to do so ten years ago from her window as she watched Anna leave her behind. 

 \\///////////////////////////////

I’ve had the most wondrous dream. My ship was besieged by pirates! But I was not afraid for I was confronted by a most dashing figure. He was rough around the edges but with the kindest green eyes, like a crystal spring dusted with scattered sundrops through the canopy. He held me with such strength as he kissed me most tenderly. I can still taste the spicy sweetness on his lips; rum and coconut. 

There he is now! The hat is missing but there is no mistaking those piercing eyes. And that hair, such an unthinkable maroon color. Yes, my dashing pirate. 

\\///////////////////////////////

“Hey, you’re alive!” 

As her vision cleared, Elsa lay with her back in the sand and stared wide-eyed and mouth ajar at the woman leaning above her. 

“I… where…? ……..Anna?” 

Anna leaned in close to inspect for signs of a concussion or any other injury. So close that Elsa caught a familiar scent from her sister’s lips.

Rum and coconut…

“Well, you look alive at least so that’s something.”

Elsa slowly sat up, fighting back a sudden pain in her temple. She reached for the side of her head and found a swath of fabric wrapped around. 

“What happened?” 

“You got knocked overboard. It was pretty awesome actually. You flew clear over the railing.” 

“How did I get here?” 

Anna placed her index finger under her bottom lip while she began to sort through her memories. 

“Let’s see, first, mother married you to a slaver. Then I think I cut his head off but it’s hard to remember which dead dutchman was him. Then—” 

“Anna! I meant how did I end up on this beach?” 

“Oh! Be more specific, jeez. The storm carried us for a while and we washed up here.” 

“You… jumped in after me?” 

Anna’s face turned solemn but determined. She stood, clearly uncomfortable with the words she was about to say. 

“Of course. I wasn’t going to leave you behind again.” 

And despite the fact that she managed to get the words out, she still walked away in that same manner trying to keep the unsettling shame at arm’s length. 

As Elsa watched her sister stroll up the beach toward the tree line, the reality of her predicament suddenly dawned on her. 

“Wait, Anna! Are you telling me that we are stranded on a deserted island?!” 

While keeping her stride, Anna replied with a simple “yup”. 

Elsa scrambled off the sand after her, with a newfound panic quickly settling in. 

“What are we going to do? How are we going to survive?! We are going to starve to death. No, we will die of thirst first. Or perhaps cannibals will eat us—” 

“Oh for Christ’s sake, chill out! There’s no such thing as cannibals on these islands. Seriously, you read too many books. Relax, this isn’t the first deserted island I’ve been stuck on.”

As they made their way off the beach Elsa saw swaths of blue cloth tied around branches and an array of wide leaves that formed a surprisingly well constructed little bungalow complete with a floor, walls of fabric to keep the bugs out, and a watertight roof. 

“You’ve already made a house. How long was I unconscious?”

“Only since last night,” Anna said with a casual shrug. 

“You constructed all this in a single morning?” Elsa’s jaw had dropped. “Where did you get this material…” 

As she examined the blue strips of fabric and the makeshift netting her eyes grew wide and wider as she inspected herself to find that she was clad in nothing but her shift dress undergarment. 

“That’s my dress!” 

“Ya, you had enough fabric in that thing I could’ve made a whole other house! And the boning from the corset was a real help getting things sturdy.” 

“You undressed me!” 

“So? We’re sisters last I checked.” 

Elsa’s modesty couldn’t help but notice that Anna was equally in a state of undress unfit for a lady. She wore a pair of simple slacks that ended at the middle of her calves and tied around a low waist with a piece of rope. Her shirt, or lack thereof, was missing a few buttons, a few sleeves, and several inches too short. Her bare ankles mocked Elsa’s sensibilities and were only eager to point out that Elsa’s ankles were also parading around the sand in nothing more than her pale skin. 

“Last I checked, you told me that my sister had died. So who are you to take off my dress?” she said hoping that she wasn’t blushing. 

Anna sat in her makeshift hovel with a sudden onset of melancholy. 

“…You’re right. I’m sorry. The sister that you knew may have died, but perhaps I was hoping… considering that I saved you and all, that you could be… this Anna’s sister.”

Elsa came over, her heart suddenly heavy as she watched this brutish pirate transform into the girl she last saw ten years ago. She sat down next to Anna, their exposed freckled shoulders barely a hairsbreadth away. 

“Anna… why did you run away?”

Anna looked down, twiddling her thumbs. 

“I… I was betrothed to Duke Weasleton.”

Elsa tried to recall but confusion had clouded her memory. 

“Weasleton? But he was so old. And didn’t he—” 

“Die? Yes, he did die. After I left a letter opener in his eye socket.” 

“Oh my God, Anna!

“Mother was going to disown me and sell me to a brothel. No way was I going to let that happen so I ran. Pretended I was a boy and stowed away on the first ship bound for the Caribbean.” 

Without giving Elsa any time to dwell on her history, Anna changed the subject. 

“I thought you were destined for the cloister?”

Taking the cue, Elsa obliged her sister’s request. 

“I was, but after you left… I became mother’s only method for climbing the social ladder. You know I was never comfortable at social gatherings. Mother basically told me to smile, and not say anything or do anything. Conceal, don’t feel. Eventually, I caught the eye of one of the ‘princes’ of the West India Trading Company. I think you and I have spoken more words in the last few minutes than he and I spoke during our entire marriage, which admittedly was only just before we set sail.”

“You’re welcome.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“For cutting your husband’s head off. Let’s have a toast!” 

Anna reached behind her and pulled out from regions unknown a massive coconut. She reached around her other side and pulled out from different parts unknown a large knife. With the coconut in one hand and the knife in the other, she dexterously spun the coconut in her palm while slashing with the knife in precise timing to cleanly create a neat opening off the top of the husky surface. 

“How did you do that?”

“Lots of practice. You should have seen the gash on my hand the first time I tried.” 

“I’m glad I didn’t.” 

Anna gave her sister the newly opened coconut and proceeded to open her own in the same fashion. With her own drink now ready, she motioned to Elsa’s coconut. 

“To dead husbands and forgotten mothers!”

Elsa, a bit hesitant, found herself suddenly distracted. The scent of the freshly opened coconut combined with the stare of those green emeralds triggered a flutter she did not understand. She mentally shook the feeling away, concussion no doubt, and lightly knocked her coconut against the other. 

“And to new sisters!” 

\\///////////////////////////////

I have been stranded on an island with an unexpected companion. I don’t know how long it’s been. Time seems to pass differently here. 

A moment ago, I found myself watching her for what seemed like hours. She was squatting on the beach, her elbows propped on her knees with her hands between them while she stared most intently at the sand below. I noticed that she was watching a crab enter to and fro from its burrow. At one point the crab came out of the hole and started scurrying about with its claws in the air like a little dance. Then Anna raised her own hands into the air, made little clamping motions, and started to scuttle across the sand after her newfound companion. It was absolutely absurd, this grown woman scurrying like a crab on the sand. 

I can’t seem to reconcile this image of my sister who is just as boisterous, playful as ever, with this other woman. She hunted a wild boar, which she carried over her shoulders, seemingly with no effort, through the forest, barefoot, without a shred of decency. I could see the muscles of her arms tense under the weight. The freckled skin of her stomach has seen far more sun than any woman ought to. The heat and exertion caused beads of sweat to travel down her neck and across her collar bone… 

It is a sight that I have neither seen nor read in my entire life and yet it is here and churning with the image of my sister scuttling across the beach. How do I reconcile such a thing? 

And to make matters worse, she does not conduct herself as a lady should at all. As we explored the island, we hiked through rather rugged terrain. The ground was painful and I took quite a stumble. She had the gall to reach out and assist me as if she was a gentleman! I took the hand, grateful for the assistance nonetheless and she continued to aid me through our trek. As we scaled a wet rock, she lifted me as easily as the dead boar, and as I soared through the air, our arms glistening from the water and sweat, I couldn’t help but look up into those eyes. I thought I knew those eyes but… sometimes they stare at me in such a way… 

How do I navigate these torrential feelings as they spin around my thoughts like the whirlpool of Odysseus? How can a single person be your oldest, dearest friend and yet also someone who you’ve just met… and who makes your heart skip a beat when you reach out and take her hand…and look into her eyes…?

“Wat’cha doin?” 

Startled, Elsa nearly jumped out of her skin and sent the paper in her hand flying into the air where she hastily grabbed them to whisk away from her sister’s prying eyes. Anna had magically appeared behind Elsa as she sat on the beach. 

A shudder trembled across Elsa’s skin as she felt the linen fabric of Anna’s shirt press against her bare shoulder blades. Two freckled arms wrapped around her shoulders and embraced her in a close but casual fashion. Yet Elsa did not receive such affection casually. She bolted up and spun to look at her younger sister who knelt in the sand with her head cocked like a confused fox. 

“Really, Anna, why do you not act like a lady!” 

Her response to this was to lean back, causing her shirt to stretch against her chest, and bend one knee over the other as she gave a taunting eyebrow raise to Elsa. 

“I am perfectly capable of acting ‘like a lady’. In fact, It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

Elsa looked away at the sight sprawled out on the sand, basking in the sun and taunting her with wiggling eyebrows. 

“Oh really?”

“You didn’t see my closet of dresses in my cabin. I can pull off quite a figure if I want to.” 

“When does a pirate have need of dresses?” 

Anna grew a mischievous smile. She rose from the sand and slowly sauntered over to where Elsa was standing.

“It’s one of my favorite cons. I go into one of the big cities, Port Royal or Havanna, I insert myself into the circles of aristocratic socialites whose husbands are either too preoccupied or too deceased to notice. I mingle, I dance…” 

She reached out with her hand and placed a single pad of the tip of her middle finger on the edge of Elsa’s shoulder so lightly that Elsa barely felt it and yet a new shudder rocked her entire body. 

“Maybe I enter the service of a… very respectable woman…”

The fingertip slowly danced across Elsa’s shoulder. It skipped over the sleeve and made its meandering way toward the base of her neck. All the while, Anna stepped around to once again place herself against the rapidly stiffening back of her sister. That single middle finger now moved in short, deliberate strokes, up and down, gradually undulating pressure against Elsa’s neck. 

Her head couldn’t help but lean to the side, coaxing the finger to lengthen its stride, where she unwittingly leaned into the soft whisper of Anna’s voice against her ear. 

“As I…delicately pull at the laces that bind such a… woman of standing, releasing her from her monotonous life of apathy, I let my voice carry between the edge of my lips and the arch of her ear… 

‘What more will you have of me, my lady…’”  

“I would have you devour me.”

“What?”

“What?” Elsa’s entire body and mind froze. 

I didn’t… I couldn’t! Did I just…? 

“Did you just—”

“I just—  I… jest! Yes, I jest, obviously. Really, Anna, you think I don’t know how to tease you back. I may be socially inept but I can surely tease my sister!”

Elsa broke free from her sister’s thrall, clutching the papers against her thundering chest. She shuffled down the beach, her legs as rigid as wooden pillars kicking up sand in their wake. Anna watched the pitiful sight stumble over a piece of driftwood, only to pick herself back up and continue on as if nothing had happened.

\\///////////////////////////////

Conceal, don’t feel. I must conceal for I can not possibly feel what I am feeling. I can not. I do not. I love my sister because she is my sister. I have missed this connection for so long… my mind is just confused. The heat, the concussion, the sheer insanity of this place. I should find Anna. Make sure that she didn’t take what I said as anything other than sisterly teasing.

As if on cue, Anna came bounding down the beach, arm swinging wildly to get Elsa’s attention. 

“Els! Come look what I found!” 

She grabbed Elsa’s arm and started pulling her back toward the way she came. Elsa kept pace this time and her arm relaxed into the grip that led it down the moonlit beach. They made their way over rocks and turned a corner into a small cove. Anna stopped and spread her arms out with a beaming smile of excitement. 

“I don’t understand”, was all Elsa could think to say.  

To Elsa’s horror, Anna lifted her shirt over her thick, maroon locks and threw it on the rocks. She now stood half-naked in the silver rays of the night sky. 

Oh, dear God in Heaven and all that is good and decent in this world and the next…

“Just watch!”

Anna looked out on the water, as black as night with only the moonbeams cascading across the surface. Then in one swift motion, she dove in. 

And Elsa’s eyes became filled with magic. 

The water bloomed into a burst of color. Waves of blue light rippled across the surface, radiating out from the body that had penetrated it. Anna stood in the shallow water, surrounded by the light of heaven trapped within the waves of a starlight sea. 

“What magic is this…?” 

“Isn’t it awesome! They are like, tiny little animals that glow at night. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?!” 

“Never…” 

“Well, don’t be shy Els. Dive in! They don’t bite or anything.” 

Elsa hesitated. She looked at Anna, then at the black water below her, then at the mystical blue speckles dotting the surface around Anna’s waist, like a dress sewn by fairies that twinkled in the starlight. She placed one timid toe on the surface of the water and gasped in shock as spirals of blue light erupted from her touch. She looked once more to her sister who gave her the most reassuring smile in the entire world. 

And she dove in. 

Elsa soared through the azure sky, her loose hair flowing behind her as she came up from the surface near where stars in the sea met the stars that studded the pale skin of her sister’s body. 

I can’t. I don’t! I won’t…

They stood inches apart, wading in the night sky like star-crossed constellations desperate to reach out and touch only to be perpetually far apart for eternity. 

I mustn’t……..

She felt Anna peering deep into her soul. Did she wonder what was going on behind her eyes, as blue and brilliant as the luminescence surrounding their bodies? Could she sense the howling winds? Could she feel the thundering heartbeat through the water? 

Would she feel it? 

I… Oh to hell with it!!

The raging storm crashed against the surface. Hard and heavy and full of unbridled desire and longing. All at once, Elsa had released the torrent within her, letting the swells of her passion wash over her sister’s lips, her skin, her entire body, and soul. The magic had struck like lightning. 

And then it was gone. 

Anna pushed her sister away. That chasm of the cosmos restored. 

“Elsa, what the hell are you—?”

“I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me truthfully.” Elsa stood her ground in the heavens that would deny her. 

“When you look at me, what do you see?” 

“I don’t understand Elsa…” 

“Do you see that girl, looking from her bedroom window? Her hand on the glass. Too afraid to go outside, too afraid to call out your name. Because when I look at you I see this girl. I see her laughing and playing and rolling around in the mud. But I also see this woman. Strong and kind. She makes me laugh, makes me inspired! I tremble when faced with the perils of the entire world, and yet she stands on top like it’s her domain! Tell me that I am insane. Tell me that all you see is that girl in the window and then I can be rid of these feelings that plague me for this impossible woman who can not be both sister and lover! Please—!!”

“YES, that is ALL I see!”

Anna was trembling. She still looked deep into her sister, locked by the pleading gaze no matter how much she wanted to turn away. 

“That girl… that big sister who I left behind. When I look at you that is all I see.”

Elsa’s breathing finally started to slow. The words that she pleaded to hear had broken through the clouds of her heart and the calm would soon take over. The acceptance of what she already knew to be the way of the universe would come. Once back to civilization, she could resume her life. Banish the madness and— 

“I saw her… every day. Everywhere. She was there when I joined a crew. She stood by me as I learned to man the wheel. I would not have survived a single day out here without her by my side.” 

Elsa’s breathing had slowed to the point of imperception. 

“…I saw her in the women that I knew. In…the women that I loved…It sounds so wrong but when you’re a young woman who relied on the faded memory of a long-lost sister for your support you can’t help but find that sister in any amount of affection you find! I had long accepted that it was my madness and I would take that madness wherever I go. And now that madness has taken a hold of you. When you came back into my life, I thought I could bury it, but instead, I passed it on to you.”

Each woman now turned away from the other, no longer able to meet each other’s solemn gaze. 

“When we get off this island, I will go back to my ship and I will bring you to Curaçao and we will go our separate ways.”

Elsa simply nodded. 

“I would still like to write you… if I can?” Anna’s voice had lost her usual commanding confidence. 

“I would like that…” Elsa’s voice could barely carry itself over the narrow strip of water between them. 

Anna slowly made her way across the water to the rocks where her discarded shirt lay. She buttoned the few remaining buttons over her chest when she heard the whisper of the water moving behind her. 

Her dress clung to her body, revealed in the glow. Their eyes met for the first time once more and an inexplicable force dragged Anna back into the water and in the embrace of the siren below. Elsa’s hand caressed Anna’s cheek. Her finger traced lines down Anna’s neck. The span of cosmos between them receded until the storm that had once rocked both their celestial cores had dissipated and all that was left was their lips crossing the horizon. And Elsa felt her sister’s name on her breath once more as she finally released it to the wind. 

 “Would one night of madness be too much to ask?” 

[o-wise-corvid]

Okay so there’s some mentions of children in pain and going through some severe physical stuff. Dark Side torture to build their hatred type stuff. DONT read if that’s too much.

People who were wanting more: @captainrexisboo @clonetrooperrights @koskareevesismyqueen @gospelofme @jgvfhl @ct-27-fives

WARNINGS: mild mentions of torture/ broken bones/ character in pain

Chapter 1: Two, Three, Four, Five

“Get your elbow up! Block with your shins and forearms... Use your points! There you go!”

To be possessed of such a small frame, Gaia never failed to impress Cody with the way she could change direction. She could run full tilt at a training droid, her whole body leaning into the sprint, then check herself, pivoting on a dime to swing up behind it. One firm kick and there was a clanker head lying at his feet.

She ran with what he could only define as commitment, pushing her entire being into a single goal. That wasn’t something he’d taught her to do, but something she’d brought herself; Cody encouraged her natural talents as often as he encouraged the practiced techniques he’d been showing her for over a year.

Gaia rode the toppling chassis to the floor, crouching on its back with a triumphant smile on her face. “How was that?”

Cody grinned at her. “Very nice. Those reinforced gauntlets really help with the punches, don��t they?”

Gaia inspected the new armor that sheathed her arms from knuckles to elbow, matte black instead of shiny. Which was a good choice given the wear the things had already gotten after one day. “Yes. No more broken knuckles.”

“No more broken knuckles,” he agreed, scooping her up. Gaia laughed and rested her small hands on his chest plate. Cody could swear she’d grown since the day before, her weight already not so easy to manage as it had once been. “But what did Papa tell you about broken bones?”

“They grow back stronger,” Gaia recited dutifully, dark eyes serious. Too serious for one so young. “Did you ever break your knuckles, Papa?”

Cody opened his mouth to answer, smiling at a memory of another brother, Kix, belligerently scolding him about his frequent visits due to how he fought droids. But another voice interjected.

“Captain.” Sixthree wobbled over anxiously, arms lifting in manufactured excitement. “You are being summoned by Lord Vader. He wishes you to bring the young lady along.”

Icy tendrils of fear shuffled their way through his body and he tightened his grip on Gaia reflexively. “Bring her with me? You’re certain about that?” he tried, despite knowing the droid would have relayed the message accurately.

“Yes sir.”

“Papa.” Gaia pulled his face around to look right at him. She touched her forehead to his. “I know what to do. Let’s go.”

He couldn’t help but smile. Her accent had changed, picking up the thicker vowels and light r’s that Jango Fett had passed down to all his Clones. In such a clear, delicate voice, it sounded especially sweet.

“I know you do,” Cody told her, lowering her to her feet. “What do you call me?”

“ ‘Sir’ if I speak at all, sir,” Gaia snapped, spine straightening like a flagpole.

“Do you look at me if you’re asked a question?”

“No sir.”

“Do you fear me?” He put a little edge in his voice, looming to his full height as he paced a tight circle around her.

“Yes sir.” Gaia didn’t track him with her eyes, didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. She was good, he had to admit. She’d picked up on what survival meant so quickly and she’d practiced everything to the point that she performed without thinking.

“Do you fear Vader?”

“Even more.”

“How do you address him?”

“My Lord.”

“Alright,” Cody finally murmured, as satisfied as he was bound to get. He touched Gaia on the top of her head, feeling the tight pattern of her braided hair under his glove, then sheathed his face in his helmet.

They stalked through the ship as one. Gaia had assumed a posture and cadence to her steps that mirrored his own, which carried a menace that even ranking officers knew to give room. She had figured out an expression of intensity that looked positively chilling on a little girl and wore it whenever she was in public. Cody admired the girl’s drive and grasp of her circumstances, even though their routine was beyond familiar.

Vader was awaiting Cody in the hangar bay, just as imposing as he’d ever been. Gaia didn’t react to his presence as they entered the long, mostly empty expanse. He wondered how she perceived him in the Force, what he felt like to the other senses that she was gifted with. From the outside, she looked inscrutable, her boots clicking in time with Cody’s as they approached the hulking figure. When Cody stopped, so did she and they both snapped a salute.

“Captain,” Vader rumbled. His sloping helmet shifted so that his attention was obviously fixed on Gaia. “Cadet.”

“My Lord,” Cody and Gaia said together and they both gave a short bow.

Vader stepped over to Gaia, sinking down on one knee until he was more level with the girl. She stared stoically ahead. “I see your training is progressing well, young one. Tell me, what do you sense in this room?”

Gaia frowned a little, but her expression was one of concentration rather than concern. “You, my Lord. The Dark Side is strong with you. The Captain. And... two others.”

Vader actually chuckled and the sound made the buzzed hair on the back of Cody’s neck stand on end. “Well done, little one. Your training has indeed progressed.” Rising, he affixed Cody with his soulless stare. “You are being tasked with the training of two others, Captain. Your success with this one is evident. I am leaving these in your command.”

Two Stormtroopers came hurrying up, each gripping a squirming person in their arms the way someone holding a feral animal would. Cody could see that they were children due to their size but because they were thrashing so wildly, there wasn’t much he could tell about them apart from the fact that they were both Zabraks.

Vader nodded to the Stormtroopers to set their burdens down, which they did, and then hurriedly backed away. Which Cody almost snorted at because it wasn’t like the kids could bite them through their armor. But then he noticed the scrapes and gouges in the white helmets; one of the eyes was shattered.

“Mind the horns, sir,” one of them offered nervously.

One of the Zabrak children twisted around, flailing a little with bound hands and legs, and actually growled at Cody. His blue eyes burned against his dusky skin, bits of plastoid shavings and visor glass stuck in the crown of amber horns along the boy’s scalp.

“I’ll have them tamed in a month, my Lord,” Cody said confidently though he had to admit that both boys looked fierce enough to take on Wookies.

“We shall see, Captain.”

Cody and Gaia glanced at each other, as Vader turned, the Stormtroopers sweeping into his wake. “Can you help me get them to our quarters?” he asked quietly. “I can get one; two might be a lot.”

Gaia grinned and stretched out a hand toward the boys. The other, green-eyed one shot up, dangling by his ankles. Cody almost laughed. Gaia wasn’t one to overdo it if she didn’t have to. Lifting the boy by his binders was easier than trying to just lift his entire body.

Cody snatched up the blue-eyed one in much the same way, keeping him at arm’s length as much as he could. The Zabrak swayed and snarled nonetheless, trying to reach Cody with his horns. Once, Cody was sure he felt the Force flutter weakly at his armored side.

Gaia had a worse time of it. Her size was the biggest problem. Green eyes squinted furiously at her and her legs flew sideways as if she’d walked over an oil slick. Gaia caught herself without dropping the Zabrak on his head and glared hotly at the boy. “Do it again and I’ll break your ankles.”

Cody looked at her worriedly, glad for the concealment of his helmet. He’d never heard such a deadly note in the girl’s voice and it chilled him. He knew she was under the charge of a slightly Forceful woman who visited the ship once a month, but what exactly happened during the hours Gaia would be away from him there, he could never say. He knew how she returned, though; it was usually hours before she finally responded to him verbally. She always crawled into his bunk on those nights, clinging to him like her sanity depended on it.

When they were finally inside his quarters, Cody flipped the blue-eyed boy as gently as he could onto the bunk, carefully righting him so he was sitting up. Gaia did the same with the other and then threw her arms around his neck. The boy’s eyes flew open wide.

“I wouldn’t have done it,” she hurried. “I promise. You have to make everyone out there feel like you would though. If they don’t think you’re bad, they won’t trust you. Do you understand?”

A wave of fierce pride seemed to bubble up from somewhere near Cody’s feet, thawing the frost of Vader’s presence out of his veins. That was his ad’ika, his Gaia. If she could keep that moral core, that goodness, and survive what could be a very horrible existence with it in tact... What a warrior she could be.

Both boys were listening now, glancing between Gaia, who knelt between them on the skinny mattress, and Cody. He took off his helmet and set it on the Gaia’s bunk. Guess he’d be needing to add two more. His quarters were starting to get really cramped now that he thought about it. He felt his lips tug to the side; Fives would’ve loved it, though, wouldn’t he? Fives always did prefer to keep everyone close, within arms reach if need be.

“You’re... wait...” The one Cody had hauled in was frowning, trying to make this new information make sense. He stared at Gaia as if he’d never seen anything so perplexing in his entire life and then his gaze shifted over to Cody. “You’re a Clone.”

“Yeah.” He knelt down and Gaia scrambled off the bed, looping her arms around his neck from behind. He patted her clasped hands and locked eyes with both boys. “I won’t lie to you. This place is dangerous. For all of us. Clones aren’t supposed to be like me. They’re all under the control of the Empire, in here,” Cody tapped his temple for emphasis. “Gaia, here? If she was what they wanted, she really would have broken your ankles. It’s not easy, being us and being here. But together, we can make it. Think you can find it in yourselves to trust us?”

“How long have you been here?” It was the blue-eyed Zabrak who spoke. His accent was as sharp as his canines.

“Over a year,” Gaia replied with a tightening of her arms around Cody’s neck. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like she was somehow guarding him, like she was prepared to launch herself over his shoulder if one of the boys tried anything. “Papa Cody helped me. He’ll help you, too. And when they start teaching you how to... do things, it won’t be easy. But he makes it better.”

The boys looked at each other and then both sighed. “Okay... what should we do?”

“Pick your names.” Gaia beamed at them both. “You can pick anything.”

Cody chuckled, Gaia’s excitement tangible as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “My brothers, the other Clones, all chose their own names before the Empire happened. It was something we all looked forward to.”

“Soren,” bubble the green-eyed boy. He beamed at his brother. “Like that pilot.”

The other boy rolled his eyes indulgently. “I know.” He looked down in his lap as Cody gently unfastened the binders around his wrists. “Who was your favorite?”

Cody frowned. “Favorite...?”

“Brother.”

Gaia was looking at him now, too. She knew, Cody suspected. He’d told her so many stories about his little brother, the one who’d earned Jaig eyes his first tour. The brother who’d walked out of the barracks fresher one morning with bleached, barely-there hair and a strut like some sort of Coruscanti model. The brother who’d stood up to a rogue Jedi, defying orders despite the knowledge that doing so might’ve meant his own life.

“Rex,” he said in a tight voice.

“Can I have it, too?”

Cody swallowed, which was difficult, but nodded. “Sure. I think... I think the other Rex would be happy to share his name with you.”

The next six months skipped by very quickly. Gaia went through a growth spurt, shooting up to only an inch or so less than Cody. Soren and Rex took to their combat training like they were born for it. Their physiology leant itself to acrobatics and the boys both favored using their own heads as weapons whenever they could.

Cody finally took the leap and shaved his head, actually feeling pleased at the result. The kids all took turns helping him, giggling and getting into a shaving gel fight before everything was said and done. Then they took turns “buffing” his smooth scalp to make him “shiny like Sixthree”.

Gaia took to guarding her new brothers like they were her own flesh and blood. She talked gently but firmly to them prior to their first session with the woman Gaia called The Teacher, and while both boys looked markedly frightened, she promised them vehemently that she would be there the entire time.

Cody tried not to think about the way all three had looked upon returning for their sleep cycle. Acid burns had peppered the left arm of each child, and Gaia sported an angry red and purple slap mark on her left cheek. He’d arrived back at their jammed quarters after a day spent forcing himself not to think about what was happening with... with his children, only to find them huddled together on his bed while Sixthree tried to soothe them while he applied bacta to their blistered skin. Gaia had thrown herself into front of the door when Cody had turned on his heel with murder in his heart, barring his way and begging him to just stay.

“Papa, what happens if you do kill her?” Gaia had demanded quietly. “They’d kill you. And then what about us?”

His awe of the girl never seemed to lessen, but only expanded more and more every day. She was so strong and so smart, protective to a fault, even of him. He adored her in a way that was no more or less than the boys, but was something different. The boys were like shadows of his childhood, ghosts of little brother cadets possessing different bodies. They felt familiar and like parts of himself that he’d lost. Gaia was more like a miniature, not quite realized version of something that Cody had never actually experienced: a mother. But this would have to be how mothers were. Right?

Two more kids were brought to the ship a week after the head shaving event. Both were just as feral and unwieldy as Soren and Rex had been, especially the youngest one to date, who was only nine. He was the most difficult of them all. And Kali was the one who had tried to Force choke him the second she’d laid eyes on him.

Shriek, the boy, had done exactly that the second that Vader and the kid’s handlers had departed. To say that the boy had a pair of lungs on him was an understatement, but it wasn’t the volume that sent Cody to his knees. Images of his brothers screaming in agony seared his brain like hot knives. Rex, falling and tumbling, the fear in his voice split Cody’s skull. Kix taking blaster bolt after blaster bolt, toppling to his knees with lifeless eyes before anther brother took his place. Wolffe stretched with his limbs pulled taught, Grievous placing a lightsaber at the junction of his shoulder and arm as he unsheathed it. The screams layered, the same but different faces bleeding over and around each other in an unending torrent of pure misery until... the varactyl scream.

Soren surged into action, clapping a dark hand over Shriek’s mouth so hard that it made tears spring into the boy’s dark hazel eyes. Rex tackled Kali, who had flown to her feet and was running away like a frightened animal. Gaia planted herself between the boy who would be called Shriek, arms raised defensively, face taught with concentration.

“Get... out... of his head,” she struggled to say, sinking down on one knee as if some huge weight was pressing her into the plastisteel floor. She whooped in a breath and then growled through gritted teeth, arms trembling furiously. Cody had relied on later recounts of the event to fill in the gaps in his memory but that moment, the relief as... it withdrew from him, was one that remained crystal clear.

No one had moved for a long while after that, all five just breathing loudly. Shriek lay stiff and shivering in Soren’s arms. Kali had allowed Rex to turn her loose, her purple lekku draped over each shoulder as she slumped to her knees. Gaia had collapsed to her hands and knees, but not before knocking her foot against his arm. Are you okay?

He started to tell her he was okay, but he knew he wasn’t, so he didn’t say anything. Such tenderness also wouldn’t have looked good to outside eyes. Instead, Cody straightened out of the curled ball he’d been reduced to by a child and tried to get to one knee. A lancing stab of white hot fire shot through his head, cracking over his right temple and behind his eye. The noise that tore out of him was startling even to him.

“I’ve got to get him to medical,” Gaia said quietly, glancing at Soren and Rex. “Take them to our quarters. Gag that one.”

Kali didn’t resist and instead benignly followed Rex and Soren as they hefted Shriek between them, careful not to glance worriedly back at Gaia as she struggled to get Cody standing again.

“Come on, Papa,” she whispered, fitting her shoulders under his arm. “Help me.”

Energized a little by the girl’s plea, Cody got his feet under him, live blaster round loose in his skull and all, and kept himself righted long enough for Gaia to half drag him to medical. How she did it other than through the Force, he was never able to really comprehend afterward. It was only the next morning, after he came to with five small faces watching him intently did he realize that he’d been unconscious.

“Captain, sir,” Gaia roused the group with a sharp salute and they all lined up beside his bed. Each was dressed in matching simple black body glove, kama, and black vambraces, their faces ghostly in the too bright lights of the medbay.

“At... at ease,” he said, groaning quietly at the sensation of light in his eyes as he slowly pushed himself up on the bed. The five children obeyed in flawless, unnerving synchronization.

“Cadets Kali and Shriek have made a change of opinion since last you spoke, sir.” Gaia intoned in what he could only describe as a menacing voice. But the names... that was promising, he hoped.

She broke rank and placed behind the line, her recent gains in height very evident amongst the others. “Haven’t you?” she snapped pointedly, glaring into the faces of the vibrantly purple Twi’Lek and pale young human as she gave each of them a healthy smack on the shoulder that was anything but friendly.

Again, Cody felt the gnaw of worry mixed with shock at how good Gaia was at this.

“Yes sir,” they both answered, addressing Gaia. That was a nice touch.

She turned to Cody, betraying not announce of emotion other than agitation. “We will leave you to your rest, sir. I would like to put the newbies through their paces, sir, with your permission.”

“Permission granted,” Cody said in as flat and hard a voice as he could muster.

Waiting until the kids had trooped out in single file, he reached over to the pile of discarded armor that someone had removed from his body and grabbed his communicator. “Sixthree?”

There was a pause and then the too chipper voice of the protocol droid responded. “Captain. Oh, I do hope you are sufficiently recovered?”

“I... yeah, I’m okay. Listen. We’re gonna need a bigger room. Six beds. A master suite for myself, a group room for the... squad.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Maybe room for a proper kitchen and place to eat. See what you can do about that, yeah?”