#curiousity quills press

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Thirteen

Daemon x reader

Summary: Aegon turns sixteen, Rhaenyra arrives at bloodstone.

Masterlist <-previous , next->

123 AC

You caressed your slightly firm tummy as you stared at your reflection. Your thin linen gown allowed you to see your body. You sighed and turned around arriving at your desk. Various papers, inks. scrolls laid scattered on the piece of wood. A single candle illuminated the side of your face as you went over the books. 

The island’s income is getting better with every month. Merchants now know that they will not be attacked by rouge pirates or scavengers. Trade boomed, the ports grew like mushrooms after rain. 

But for your husband it was not enough. Well with seven children and five grown dragons things were not steep. The castle was still being built, chambers, dungeons, cellars all the works were added. Daemon demanded a castle as grand as the Red Keep but more fortified. You then questioned your brother.

“Why do we need such a large castle? There is only a handful of us. We do not hold court even.” 

“We are Targaryens we deserve nothing but the best.” He simply answered. You chuckled at his words, but he was honest in his determination. The castle grew each month, builders, masons, artists were employed. 

“What are you reminiscing about?” Daemon asked entering your private chambers. “You were not abed in our chambers.” 

“I had to go over the spending and income.” You answered pointing to the heavy tome in front of you. 

“You can do that all later, or at all.” He mused walking behind you. He placed a kiss at the nape of your neck, leaning over the chair. You leaned into his touch sighing quietly. “You should be resting.” 

“I am fine, Daemon. ‘Tis not the first time I am doing this.” You swatted away his worries. 

“Many women in my life fell to childbirth. My aunts, my mother and Laena. I simply do not wish to see you in pain.” 

“While I thank you for your worries, husband. I am perfectly capable of caring for myself. I have before, I shall do it now.” You answered beginning to scribble with a quill. “You should have faith in me, Daemon.” 

“I have nothing but faith, but childbirth is not something you or anyone else can control.” 

“Hmm.” You agreed and rolled your shoulders. 

“How is she?” He questioned after a moment of silence. His large, warm palm pressed against your flat but slightly firm tummy. That indicated life. 

“She’s fine. Makes me feel tired and nauseous but she’s fine.” 

“How will we name her?” 

“I haven’t thought about it, have you?” 

“…I have.” 

“And? What did you come up with?” 

“Perhaps Alyssa after my mother, or Gael after your mother.” 

“I do not like naming my children after other people, Baelon of course being the exception.”

“Why is that?” He questioned curiously. 

“I think that… names posses a certain power. Our names affect us, they add to our personality. What happened when you name a child after a man who was brutally murdered or a woman who turned insane. It just it seems weird to me. Especially the name Aegon.”

“Aegon? What’s wrong with that.” 

“I believe the conqueror’s names are cursed, but more so the name Aegon.” 

“Why?”

“Aegon the first is the patriarch of our house. He launched us into greatness, without him we still would be on dragon stone. No future Aegon will ever amount to his greatness, they cannot. No matter how hard they try. And each Aegon gets a worse faith than the last."

"How is that?"

"Aegon, Aenys's son was slain by Balerion. He was hated by the realm. Jaehaerys's and Alysanne's Aegon died in the cradle, your brother Aegon also died in the cradle."

"And what about this Aegon?" Daemon questioned.

"He is the son that Viserys so desired, only to throw him away after his birth, focusing only on Rhaenyra. Hated by his mother for being a reminder of the youth that was stripped from her. I want him to be happy, but I know his life will be filled with hardships."

Daemon nodded and silence fell between the two of you. You continued to scribe in the books as your husband watched you work.

"You never told me what happen in Dorne." The rogue prince said breaking the silence. You sighed and put the quill away.

"Because it would be treason." You simply answered.

"Treason? Now you piqued my interest, do pray tell."

"The man that poisoned Darren was hired by a man that served in the red keep. He said he was wearing green, the Queen's colours. The servant girl that delivered the poison is from some village near Old Town. I went to the maester's chambers, herbs used for making essence of Nightshade laid scattered through the shelves."

"You do not suggest it is that green's snake doing?" Daemon muttered. "But why? She's as pious as one can be. I think it is against her religion to kill a child."

"Isn't it obvious?" You questioned raising and eyebrow at him "She attacked my eldest son, as I have taken her eldest away from her. It is revenge."

"Otto would never allow it. I hate the cunt be he is clever."

"But you forget that Alicent is Queen, higher than the hand. Perhaps a fe years ago she wouldn't even take a breath if her father told her so. But now, she's a woman, a Queen and an anchor for the faith. She has loyal supporters."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"...I don't know, attacking her would be stupid. Demanding justice, stupid. She would just deny and accuse us of treason, we have to bide our time and gather more evidence."

"I'll see to it."

You nodded and watched your husband leave. You released the breath you were holding. What if Alicent truly meant to kill your son, will she stop after the first attempt or continue. Are any of your children safe?

You heard the door open once more.

"I will join you soon, Daemon." You muttered focusing on the heavy tome in front of you.

"Is it true?" You immediately raised your gaze to find Aegon standing before you. Fists balled up in anger. "Is my mother responsible for what happened to Darren."

"Aegon-" You stood up and took a careful step towards him.

"Tell me!" He raised his voice, you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"I believe so..." A beat of silence passed.

"I have to go back." He stated suddenly.

"What?" You stalked towards him, you took his cheeks into your palms.

"She won't stop trying to hurt your family as long as I'm with here, and not with her."

"You are my family Aegon." You reasoned

"It's my fault Darren is hurt."

"That's nonsense, sweet boy. You are not responsible for your parent's actions. No child is."

"But I'm not a child am I? I'm a man now, I cannot hide behind your skirts hoping you'll fix my messes." Aegon lamented.

"Aegon, this is not your fault." You mused caressing his wavy hair.

"I have to go, I'll send a letter to my mother saying that I'll return to King's Landing." He stated "When they come for my name day celebration I'll return with them."

"You'll always have a place in my home, Aegon."

"I- thank you." He stiffly said and left your chambers.

...

Aegon stalked the halls searching for the familiar path that led him to Darren's room. He stopped at the foot of the door, his hand raised to knock. But he decided to enter unannounced.

The dark haired teen laid motionlessly in his bed. A duvet covered half his body. Aegon sat at the food of the bed, he sighed deeply and placed his head in his hands.

Darren stirred startling the Targaryen prince.

"Aegon?" Darren groggily asked seeing the familiar silhouette. "What are you doing here?"

"I- " He tried to form the words but nothing left his lips. Instead tears begun to pool in the corner of his violet eyes.

"Aegon what's wrong." Darren threw the covers off his body and sat next to Aegon, shoulders touching.

"I'm going back." The older boy finally said.

"Back where?" Oblivious, the Martell Prince asked.

"To King's Landing."

"What?" He breathlessly said. "No... No you promised you'll stay with me."

"You think I don't want to?" Aegon raised his voice and stared at the Dornish Prince before him, tears cascaded down his pale cheeks. "But it's my fault you're like this."

"How is my poisoning your fault?"

"It's my mothers doing."

"So it's not your fault then." Aegon widened his eyes.

"You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you? Sure I'm mad I almost died but it's not because of you."

"Alicent won't stop trying to hurt you, or your siblings until I come back."

"And who said that?"

"It's obvious, Darren. She's mad that I was "taken" from her, so she's trying to get revenge on your mother by hurting you."

Darren chuckled, falling backwards onto the bed. Aegon joined him, his silver curls forming a halo. Darren found Aegon's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I don't want to go, Darren." Aegon cried staring at the ceiling, tapestries of myths displayed in front of him.

"I know." The boy mused caressing, the olders palm with his thumb.

"But I have to, for your safety."

"Hmm." Darren sighed turning to stare at Aegon's profile.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I don't know when will be the next time I'll get to see you like this. I want to memorise your face." Aegon blushed slightly. "Will you be okay?"

Aegon turned to stare at Darren's dark eyes.

"I'll have Sunfyre, I'll be fine."

"If you wish you'll always have a place at my court." Darren proposed.

"Your mother said the same thing."

"I am like my mother aren't I?"

"It's a good thing, you're courageous, caring and clever. y/n raised you well."

"She raised you as well, that means you're also good. A bit quiet but smart, brave like a dragon and handsome too." Darren teased, Aegon pushed him slightly as the younger laughed.

…

“Raise the chandelier higher.” You ordered standing in the middle of the ball room. The preparations for Aegon’s name day were hard to organize. The whole court along with other nobles will arrive any day now.

“Your highness which cloth should be placed over the tables.” You stared at the three different types of cloth the servant was holding. You pointed to the one of your choosing.

“I see you’re hard at work.” Daemon entered the hall. He placed a kiss to your lips and caressed your growing belly.

“Hmm.” You hummed and turned to coordinate to preparations. “I cannot wait to entertain all those nobles I hated as a child.”

“If you need me to cut out their tongues, just call me.”

“No matter how pleasing that sound I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” You chuckled.

“The offer still stands if you wish.”

You heard dragon roars outside the castle. The familiar high pitched clicking of Syrax put a smile on your face. At least Rhaenyra will be here to accompany you.

“It seems we have guests.” Daemon said hearing the same.

“Yes, let’s go to the pit. Talya!” You shouted searching for the maid in charge of your children.

“Yes, your highness?”

“Please gather the children.” The maid dressed in a white hair covering bowed and scurried off. “I’ll go find Darren.”

Daemon nodded and went his way, you departed to climb the many stairs leading to the part of the castle that contained chambers.

You entered Darren’s chambers quickly and quietly. To your surprise you found Aegon in bed with him, the two sleeping. You sighed deeply and sat at the corner of the bed. Is this why they were so awkward with each other? But they seem at peace now.

You placed a hand on Darren’s shoulder and shook him gently. He awoke and yawned.

“Hello mother.” He simply said and continued to doze off. Aegon on the other hand shot up from the bed.

“Uh, a-aunt.” Aegon muttered covering his eyes with his hands.

“Good morrow Aegon.” You smiled and stood up walking over to the heavy wardrobe and pulling out garments for your eldest son. “Get up you two, freshen up and dress. Rhaenyra will be arriving soon.”

“I- Y-You’re not mad?” Aegon whispered. Darren stirred and sat up.

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” You questioned throwing Darren’s clothes at him, he mumbled a thank you mother and went to dress. Aegon stared in surprise at Darren.

“Well I-… Um I and Darren?” He stumbled over his words.

“Oh that? I suspected for quite some time." You admitted, Aegon paled. "Now get up and get dressed, guests will be arriving soon."

The two scurried away preparing for the welcome feast and a week of celebration.

You walked through the halls, various sculptures, tapestries and paintings hung from the walls. Torches illuminated and heated the cold stoney walls. Handmaidens, servants, cooks, butchers and others stalked through the castle, preparing chambers, food and cleaning the whole premises. You sighed and rubbed your belly.

Baela and Rhaena along with Nymor and the nursemaids that held your younglings were already awaiting your presence. The only left was Daemon, Darren and Aegon.

You brushed a loose strand of short hair from Baela’s cheek. She huffed at the pestering.

“Do I have to wear this?” She pointed to the teal dress with myrish lace and ruffles.

“Only for a short time, Baela. Then you can change into whatever you like.” You mused and walked over to Rhaena. She wore a soft pink gown with gold trimmings. Her long hair was half up and half down, a slight blush covered her cheeks.

“You look spledning, Rhaena.” You nodded at her, her twin snickered.

“It’s all for Luke no doubt.” She chuckled, Rhaena opened her mouth and then closed it, spewing a weak shut up.

“Do not pick on your sister.” Daemon approached and scolded the elder girl. Baela sunk in her position and nodded begrudgingly.

The gates opened to reveal three sets of carriages. The horses neigh and stomped their hooves. The knights riding ahead halted.

“Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, the heir to the iron throne!” One of her banner men shouted. The small family begun to pour out of the stuffy carriage.

Rhaenyra sighed in relief as she glanced at the castle, her three sons followed suit and stood next to her.

The whole courtyard bowed before the princess of the realm, the heir quickly walked towards the gates.

“Princess, what an honor it is for you to grace us with your presence.” You bowed, a smirk played on your lips. Rhaenyra scoffed and motioned with her hand for you to stand. “It is good to see you.” You engulfed Rhaenyra in your arms, the younger woman returned the gesture.

“Rhaenyra.” Daemon approached taking her ringed hand and placing a kiss on her palm.

“Uncle.” She responded, her eyes fell towards your children. “And how have you all grown.”

You chuckled and took the heir by her arm “Come I am sure you are tired from your journey.”

…

“I have heard of what happened to Darren.” Rhaenyra said once you were comfortable in the sanctity of her chambers. “Terrible.”

“Yes… but he’s fine now.” You agreed.

“Are you not going to seek justice?”

“What do you propose I do? Fly to King’s Landing and demand the execution of the Queen?” You rubbed your temple “Time will come.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Rhaenyra sighed and reached for an empty goblet. She poured herself the sweet Dornish wine and took a sip.

“Now, what is this urgent business you had to tell me of?” You questioned.

“My father has proposed me a seat on the council.” She said.

“As hand?”

“As regent…I suppose it is your doing.” The Violet eyed woman mused. She took a seat next to you.

“Partially.” You admitted “Your father is sick, he does not sit the throne. Why would his hand rule in his steed when he has an appointed heir.”

“I am grateful for what you’ve done, but I’m not going to.” Her words shocked you, your eyes widened as you took in her features.

“Why?” Your voice came out a bit harsh, startling Rhaenyra.

“I do not wish to spend another moment in that vipers den, along with her. And my sons do not want to either.”

“You cannot be such a fool Rhae.” You demanded. “An opportunity of power is laid on a silver platter and you cast it aside over a squabble?”

“It is not a squabble-“ Rhaenyra protested but you silenced her.

“Whatever happened between you and Alicent was years ago. You are the heir but that does not do much. Viserys has a son and there are lords who will petition for him to be King instead of you. You must prevent this in the earliest stage of development .”

“And becoming regent will do that?” She questioned her brows furrowed.

“Of course! You’ll hold more power than the hand, you will show the realm you’re its rightful Queen. And when Viserys dies you will be there to inherit the crown.”

The realms delight sighed and sunk into her seat.

“After all these years of hoping for a son and failing he noticed me and named me heir. Defying custom and tradition. But now when he do gets a son he casts him aside. Fate is a funny thing isn’t it?”

You hummed agreeing.

“I wanted to visit you and introduce you to a person I hold dear to my heart.” Rhaenyra said after a moment of silence.

“Is he here?” You questioned knowing who she was speaking of. She nodded. “And what is your plan? Will you marry him? Name him Prince consort?”

“I do not know. Not now anyway.” She admitted “He makes me feel loved and appreciated. He likes the boys and is a good father figure to them.”

“But he’s Essosi.” You finished for her. “He has Valyrian blood, maybe it could be a pretext.”

“Maybe.”

…

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Taglist:

@nessjo

@deltamoon666

@whoisviolett

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @vampirexsoldier​ and based on an idea I got watching the new Guardians of the Galaxy movie. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 3412 Warnings: vampire!Reader, blood, feeding, burns/fire

“That’s a terrible idea! What if she finds out?” Peter Quill bellowed with utter outrage in his voice.

Gamora’s proposal wasn’t entirely bad. The question as to How do you keep a dangerous vampire—you—who could lash out and kill everyone in seconds in check? had hung in the air unanswered until Gamora chuckled and spoke up. “You make her fall in love, how else?”

And because it was rather unlikely anyone was up for the task or even emotionally available for that matter, everyone’s eyes promptly travelled over to Mantis. She shrugged with her eyes widened.

“Okay, even if that works… who do you want to make her fall in love with? I don’t volunteer, I don’t wanna end up as Dracula’s supper!”

“Who’s Dracula?” Drax asked. Quill rolled his eyes.

Surprisingly though, it was Thor who spoke up next, a sly grin playing on his lips. “My brother.”

“Your brother is Dracula?”

“What? No. That’s not what I meant.”

“Loki? You wanna make her fall in love with the guy who almost took over Earth a few years ago? That’s not a recipe for chaos, that’s a recipe for disaster,” Quill said.

“Loki’s changed since then, Quill. And I think… I think having someone infatuated with him will do him good. Besides, I think she is his type for him to help keep up the act. She’s quite… mean.”

Gamora chuckled once more. “He won’t like that if he finds out though.”

“Are you serious? You’re seriously gonna do this?” Quill threw his hands.

“I am Groot!”

Thor’s eyes widened. “He’s what?”

“Right behind you, you oaf.” Loki’s voice slid through the air like one of his daggers and instantly, the room fell silent. Even Nebula who had elected not to partake in the conversation at all looked up to see what would happen next.

“Loki!” Thor called out innocently, turning on his heel to face him. Everyone in the room could tell that Loki’s hand must have been itching to wipe that shit-eating grin from Thor’s face.

“You heard everything we said, didn’t you?” the God of Thunder asked then.

“That I did.” He was calm. Perhaps a little too calm, even.

“So… so what do you think?”

“I think you’ve lost your mind but that’s not new.”

“Loki, please. If… I mean, if she tries anything, we’ll know you’re strong enough to defend yourself.”

“She’s like a ticking time bomb and until we can rule out she doesn’t work with the enemy, we have to… keep her at bay,” Gamora added matter-of-factly.

“I agree with my sister. She’s dangerous.”

Loki let his gaze wander over the others. Then, he sighed. “Fine. But you…” He pointed at Mantis who flinched in response. “…You lift that magic as soon as we’re off this ship.”

Thor patted his brother on the shoulder when she started nodding frantically.

“You’re staring, Trickster.” Your feet were crossed and propped up on the dashboard, careful not to press any buttons and turn off autopilot or something silly like that. You’d been engrossed in a journal Quill and Nebula had picked up from that abandoned spaceship. “Still don’t trust me?”

Technically, they didn’t want you to read it. They didn’t trust you. You couldn’t blame them really. While none of their suspicions about you were true, for you certainly wouldn’t work for someone who called himself Kang, they were right to fear you at least.

People had messed with you too much in the past. It had changed you—you, and your morals. Taking a life here and there and draining someone of their blood to guarantee your own survival might not have been noble but sometimes necessary. Besides, it was hilarious to watch people cower before you.

Looking up from the journal, you met Loki’s blue gaze observing you curiously, and tilted your head.

“Trust is for dogs.”

You’d rather not go into the story of how you ended up on the Guardians of the Galaxy’s spaceship in the first place but they were a means to an end. You needed to get far away from those disgusting demon poachers who had wanted to harvest your fangs as if you were a chicken laying eggs.

In return, you’d offered them your help with whatever it was they were planning on doing against Kang. Loki was by far the one who trusted you the least. It was funny, really. He was outrageously hot and his smile, albeit sarcastic and snarky most of the time, had—metaphorically speaking—pierced your heart with an arrow.

Falling in love sounded so ridiculous you hadn’t properly considered it yet. You were a vampire for heaven’s sake. You didn’t fall in love. If anything, you experienced physical attraction and that all too familiar throbbing right between your legs when you imagined your fangs buried in Loki’s neck all the while his cock was buried in you. You’d simply ignore how your heart jumped every time he entered the room.

Loki was walking on very thin ice today. He had recently, so you’d learned, been affiliated with some sort of time police. In some universes… multiverses (to be quite frank you still couldn’t exactly wrap your head around it all) it was Kang who was in charge of this so-called TVA, in others, they were doing everything they could to stop him.

It was a fight you were not about to get involved in any more than necessary but you had to admit, you more than just liked the formal attire he wore whenever he went back there with the help of these silly little time doors.

You’d been dancing around each other for weeks at this point and while the others steered clear of you as best as they could, Loki seemed to somehow always be around you, watching you—probably expecting that as soon as he turned his back on you, you’d go running to Kang or something like that. That, or you’d jump on his back and rip out his throat with your fangs because food was a rarity in the middle of space.

“I can’t say I’m a huge fan of dogs—being a blood-sucking creature of the night and all.”

You had indeed not fed in a while and it was starting to give you quite vivid and filthy daydreams with Loki. The number of positions you had already imagined while you were feeding on him would have had Aphrodite herself blush.

“Right. We’ll be landing on a planet called Solaris tomorrow. Mobius suspects a Kang Variant has taken precedence there.”

“You almost say that like you think I care.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Your skills are amenable. We’ll need you in this fight.”

“Really? You expect me to focus on a fight when you’ll be wearing that? All I can think about is how much I want to grab you by that tie, pull you down to me and kiss you senseless until you beg me to… well.” You winked at him.

Loki swallowed thickly. Taken aback, perhaps, that you so brazenly flirted with him or simply wary of the fact it was a vampire of all beings who was attempting to seduce him.

He opened his mouth but then closed it again without having said anything, making you chuckle triumphantly. “You’re cute when you don’t know what to say. I bet that doesn’t happen a lot.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I mean it, Loki. You’re one attractive god. If I was religious, I’d worship you over Thor anytime.”

The smile he gave you in response didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t full of suspicion as usual but it wasn’t sarcastic or mischievous either. In fact… you figured it was actually a little sad. Why you practically admitting to him that you’d fall to your knees for him elicited that kind of emotion from him though, you weren’t quite sure.

Perhaps it was for the best. As long as you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your heart demanded more from Loki than just his blood and his body yourself, focusing on lust and physical desire was your best bet.

With one final smirk, you returned to reading the journal. Loki made it a point not to leave the room and to instead watch you like a hawk.

And here you were now, part of a fight you had wanted to stay away from. But a promise was a promise and you had honour—you’d keep your word, if anything because that meant you got to spend more time with Loki.

Solaris was lovely. Lovelier than Earth in many aspects but then again, food was scarce and most beings on his planet were, well… inedible. It left you a little hungrier than you would have liked given the current circumstances. Plus, Loki’s throat began to look more and more delicious with every passing second.

Loki’s mysterious TVA friend had been right though. Kang—or at least, one of his many Variants—was here. He was every last bit as annoying as your involuntary travel companions had made him out to be, obsessed with ruling the multiverse and time and bla bla bla. You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes as he made you all listen to his grand plan, no doubt an entertaining stalling method for him before he’d strike. You understood him in that regard, at least. Playing with your prey before the killing blow was fun. As a vampire, you’d know.

“I knew you’d come,” Kang finally concluded after a while. “Of course, I wasn’t sure which Variants of you I’d encounter but I must admit the selection is quite disappointing.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you know what, you’re disappointing too,” Quill snapped with his gun pointed at Kang.

“I’m sure—because I’m not the Kang you were hoping to put an end to. You see, I’m always a step ahead. All of my Variants are, in fact. I volunteered to take care of you.”

“Can we kill him now?” Drax uttered. His comment earned him an eye roll from both Nebula and Gamora, followed by an angry “I am Groot”—whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

“Let’s get this over with,” Rocket added.

“I agree. It might be best to do it quickly and painlessly.” Then, much to your surprise, Kang’s cold gaze fell on you.

“You’re the vampire. I’ve heard of you. It’s quite hilarious how you end up with the infamous God of Mischief in almost every universe.” What the actual fuck. “Or have you chosen Thor instead here?”

You blinked, too stunned to speak for a second. Thor wasn’t your type at all, you had made that pretty clear to Loki, and only recently too.

“You could truly be so much more though. Why would you want to waste away with these self-proclaimed gods? I can assure you that joining me would give your eternal life a much greater purpose.”

“Yeah, go ahead and provoke her,” Quill interrupted, “She’ll rip your throat out before you can say ‘time’!”

“I’d rather gauge my own eyes out,” you added, for once agreeing with the snarky Star Lord.

“Ah, I see… you like him. Well, it wouldn’t truly be a loss, you see. I can always get a new Loki for you. One that is more… compliant.”

“Go to hell.”

“Shame. I’ll have to kill you too then. Let me start with you, actually. It will make this unpleasant fight so much less messy.”

Time to bare your fangs. You could practically feel your eyes turning red, those pointy teeth forcing their way out of your gums to become a deadly weapon. You could feel Loki’s eyes on you when it happened. Curiosity mixed with fascination and vigilance made for a delicious combination. But there was no time to swoon over him now. Not when you began to realise what Kang—calm and irksomely collected—was doing.

Fiddling with the time manipulation device on his wrist, the noise it caused was deafening. It was like the sky above you was screaming in agony as the stars moved and the moon retreated. He was speeding up time, speeding up the night… and you were out in the open, with nowhere to retreat and escape from the deadly sunrays about to dig their hot claws into your flesh.

You shrieked when the first beam hit your skin. Panic set in quickly the very moment you smelled the smoke coming from your own body, the excruciating pain that felt like falling headfirst into an active volcano.

All hell broke loose around you with both the Guardians and the two Asgardian gods breaking into a fight all the while you frantically, desperately looked around for cover, somewhere to hide. You had approximately thirty more seconds before you’d burst up in flames like a phoenix and turn to ashes—only that unlike a phoenix, you wouldn’t be reborn.

“Loki, get her out of here!” you heard Thor roar.

There. A tent. You doubted the thin ceiling made entirely of fabric would protect you for long but it would have to do. So you ran, faster than any human eye would be able to witness, abandoning the group you had promised to help.

Instead, you assessed the damage done. Grunting in pain, you eyed the burns on every inch of exposed skin. Your body was fighting it, pumping both blood and adrenaline through your system determinedly to heal you—but with the lack of nutrition lately, you soon realised that you were too weak. And then, everything around went black and someone caught you in their arms.

When you came to, you tasted blood.

“Drink. Don’t stop.” Loki. Demanding and stern, pressing his wrist against your lips. Your eyes—undoubtedly red—flattered open, a surprised sound escaping your throat. Loki’s blood tasted heavenly. Warm and sweet and salty all at the same time, it felt like you were feasting on freshly harvested honey.

Your body welcomed the feeding with open arms, demanding more and more as it slowly regained the strength it needed to properly start the healing process of your skin. You could feel it tingle and itch with every drop of blood you swallowed until you were strong enough to wrap your hands around Loki’s lower arm to pull him even closer to your face.

He was behind you, you only realised then. Your head was resting on his lap as he was kneeling on the floor, his thighs supporting your head. Fuck, you didn’t want this moment to end, ever, and for some reason, this felt even more intimate than the idea of simply fucking him while your fangs were buried deep in his flesh.

He’s saving your life, a know-it-all voice in your head whispered. That’s why.

Eventually, Loki pulled his wrist away. You licked your lips, slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings. You were back on the spaceship and the atmosphere was, quite frankly, grim.

“What happened?” you croaked, feeling several pairs of eyes on you. “Did somebody die?”

“Kang’s gone. Dead, we killed him,” Quill explained briefly and to the point.

He didn’t need to elaborate. It was a bittersweet victory—after all, there were hundreds of more dangerous Kang Variants out there and it seemed as if this one had merely served as a distraction from the real deal. What was it he had said? Somehow, you ended up with Loki in every universe? What did that even mean? In what way?

“Great. I’m going to take a shower then,” you announced. With as much grace and pride as you could muster after almost dying before all of their eyes, you climbed to your feet and strutted away, turning around the corner to get to one of the small bathroom units that came with surprisingly modern showers.

“Why did you do it?” you heard Thor ask Loki quietly once you were out of sight. You could have been mistaken but it almost seemed like there was a slight smirk in his voice. You lifted your head and froze, tuning in on the conversation. In any case, you’d like to know the answer to that question as well, after all, Loki had always been the one person on his damn spaceship trusting you the least. You surely were hoping you had now proved to him that you did not, in fact, work with Kang—in any universe for that matter.

“She was dying, Thor, and quite frankly, none of you even considered making a move and offering her blood.”

“That can’t be the only reason. Has it got something to do with what Mantis did to her? Did she… did she grow on you a little?”

“But…” Mantis started at that very moment. She was instantly cut off by Loki’s scoff.

“You keep forgetting the very people we both grew up with consider my true nature a monster too.”

“What, so you did it out of solidarity among monsters?” Quill intervened. You rolled your eyes. But what was that Thor had said? What Mantis had done to you? What did she do to you?

“But I…” Mantis started once more. Again, her words fell on deaf ears.

“You’d do well to watch your tongue, Star Lord.”

“Hey!” Mantis finally screeched. Silence. Now they were listening to her. “I haven’t made her fall in love with Loki yet! I couldn’t do it while she was awake and I’ve never seen her sleep before!”

Made her fall in love with Loki. Her words rang in your ear, floating around and repeating themselves over and over like a poltergeist in your head. Made her fall in love with Loki. They had been planning on doing that? Why? To keep you at bay, to keep you controlled? Love was a powerful instrument and that… that was foul. It was vile and outrageous, it was…

“What… what do you mean by you haven’t done it yet?” you heard Loki ask. So he’d been in on it as well.

You growled, turning on your heel to get rid of your leather trousers which were ruined now due to the sun scourging your skin.

“If you didn’t manipulate her emotions yet, then why is she constantly…”

Unfortunately, you were still a little too dizzy to do so. You took the shower curtain down with you as you slipped on the wet tiles, making them all aware of your presence again and unfortunately ending their conversation in the process.

But you were still able to figure out the rest of Loki’s unfinished sentence. He was wondering. Realising, even, perhaps, that all those things you had told him… that you found him attractive, cute, that you wanted to do such deliciously filthy things with him… you had meant them.

And perhaps—just perhaps—that was a little too much for him to bear. You could only imagine the confused looks on the others’ faces.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you finally heard him say. You didn’t even notice you were still cowering on the bathroom floor, leaning against the wall. When Loki entered the bathroom, he helped you up without a moment of hesitation, ignoring your weak protest as he did.

But then, the very second your eyes met, he knew. “You heard it.”

“Every damn word. You’re all insane if you thought that would work.”

“They thought it did. I thought it did.”

So that was why his expression was always so… so sad whenever you flirted with him. He must have thought you’d done it only because of Mantis and it had left him… disappointed? Realising this, it was hard to feel anger toward him. The others, yes. But not him. So instead, you said, “Thank you, Loki. You saved my life today. I’m in your debt—and trust me when I say that having a vampire in your debt is power on another level.” You just about managed to wink before another wave of dizziness made you stumble. The God of Mischief instantly wrapped his arms around you to steady you.

“Do you believe me now then?”

Loki smirked, returning the wink. “Yes, pet. I believe you now.”

“Then that’s your cue to kiss me, Trickster, ideally before I pass out again.”

You knew the moment his soft lips connected with yours that you would gladly pass out again if only that meant you’d feel that gorgeous mouth on you forever though.

[mariamakeslemons]

I found I'm actually enjoying writing in @ghouljams fae!AU. Here's Lilac's first meeting with Price, Keegan, and the Changeling/Ainsley.

Lilac stares in terror at the man, fae, standing in her mentor’s garden. He smiles at her and she chokes, shaking as he takes a purposeful step toward her.

“Calm down, little witch,” he chuckles, dropping his heavy hand on her head, “I don’t eat children.” Lilac squeaks at his rough pats before watching with wide eyes as he walks past her, into Miss Witch’s house.

“Price! Stop scaring Lilac!” Miss Witch scolds, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. The fae, Price, chuckles and strides up to Miss Witch. Suddenly, Lilac sprints to stand between them, her arms outstretched in an attempt to block him from hurting Miss Witch.

“Y-you can’t h-hurt h-her!” She yells, fighting to keep her fear off her face as she stares up at his blue eyes. Price raises an eyebrow at Lilac’s declaration, tilting his head curiously.

“Oh? Are you going to stop me?” he asks, not mocking, but curious. Lilac freezes, unsure of the correct answer when Miss Witch huffs behind her.

“Price,” she intones. The fae raises his hands in surrender, chuckling as he once again steps around Lilac. The girl spins, terrified for her mentor. She knows Miss Witch is heavily warded, that’s just what generational magic does, but Price feels strong. Maybe even stronger than Miss Witch, although magic does what it does, so she might be stronger?

“Lilac,” Miss Witch calls, pulling Lilac from her panicked thoughts. She’s sitting on the bench while Price still stands, looking over his shoulder in amusement, “Go put the herbs back for me please. Then, you can copy down more of those minor spells.” Lilac hesitates, but ultimately, she nods and scurries back into the house, glancing over her shoulder worriedly to the garden.

Cleaning up the herbs takes a minute of squinting at Miss Witch’s handwriting and comparing it to the notes she’s made on the spare notebook Lilac brought. It takes almost ten minutes, but she’s confident at her accuracy. Another forty minutes is taken up by carefully writing out the most basic of spells in various colored pens. Miss Witch mentioned one of her accomplices likes using multiple colors for notes and wanted to see if it would help Lilac concentrate. It worked and now, her grimoire is currently being cleansed of all the black ink that barely meant anything, and they’re waiting for a proper quill and ink set that will copy the multi-colored system that helps Lilac keep her thoughts in order. Beaming at her steady progress, Lilac stands up from her seat and scurries over to the door to the garden, opening her mouth to ask Miss Witch to look over her work, only to stop.

Price is laying on the bench, his head in Miss Witch’s lap, and a soft look on his face as he stares up at her. Miss Witch is humming a song Lilac swears she knows, her fingers combing through the fae’s hair softly, her expression just as soft.

“Y’know, Soap’ll pout when I tell ‘im how nice you are t’ the little witch. Especially when y’re so mean t’ ‘im,” the fae rumbles. Miss Witch scoffs, going so far to tap his nose as they smile at each other.

“Soap’s a grown fae, Lilac is a child. They are completely different, and you know that,” Miss Witch reminds him with a smile, teasing. Price chuckles, his eyes fluttering closed when Miss Witch bends down enough to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Doesn’t mean ‘e won’t bitch,” the fae reiterates before silence surrounds the couple once again. Lilac can’t help but stare, awe and confusion mixing together.

Witches and fae don’t mix, one of the biggest rules Granny beat into Racheal. No witch worth their salt would ever allow a fae into their home, their sanctuary, willingly. But, here they are, Miss Witch completely at ease while Price does nothing more than tease her. No threats of violence, no attempts at violence. It’s a strange thing to witness, after being told and shown reasons that they can’t interact.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the front door startles Lilac from her staring. She slowly turns to the door, blinking in confusion. She’s been here for a few days already, but Miss Witch always knows when customers are coming. Lilac’s never heard a knock at the door and she doesn’t know what to do. Another knock sounds out, low on the door but insistent. Suddenly, Miss Witch strides past Lilac, a fond smile and shake of her head while Price follows with a frown.

“Hello there,” Miss Witch says upon opening the door, “You really need to stop doing this, sweetie. Your mom is going to be worried.”

“And Russ’s gonna be a pain in the ass,” Price grumbles beside Lilac.

“Russ?” she asks, only to jump and squeak when a little changeling wraps their arms around her legs, looking up at her curiously.

“Who?” the little one asks, their voice taking on Miss Witch’s and Price’s and maybe a few other people. Lilac blinks, before slowly raising her head. Miss Witch winces at the sound of so many voices at once, but she smiles.

“She’s my trainee,” Miss Witch explains patiently, “Her name is Lilac.” The changeling hums and chitters like a chipmunk, a smile crossing their face that make’s their cheeks appear chubbier. Lilac smiles back nervously, only for her nerves to be soothed when the child lets go of her legs to grab her hand. They ramble about decay and how it affects objects differently, from leaves turning from green to black, and a squirrel’s body caved in on itself before some birds got to it. It’s interesting, how passionate the kid is about their topic.

“D-do you want t’ read a b-book?” Lilac asks, smiling when the child looks up at her excitedly. They nod and point at a book Miss Witch had told Lilac was about a dog’s life. Taking the book gently from the shelf, Lilac sits on the ground and jolts in surprise as the child climbs into her lap, forcing her to wrap her arms around the kid and rest her chin on their head to read.

They get through two chapters when a man appears with a dog. Lilac looks up and tightens her hold on the changeling fearfully. He’s a tall fae, one that makes promises and demands rewards. One that can stack any deal in his favor.

“I’d appreciate if you’d let my kid go,” he drawls, the German Shepard beside him giving Lilac a warning growl. Swallowing and shying back, she glances down at the changeling worriedly, unsure as to the older fae’s plan for the little one. The fae’s face shifts, from a fake neutral expression to something softer, almost like comfort.

“I’m not gonna hurt him. I need to take him back to his momma,” the fae explains. The changeling on Lilac’s lap beams up at her and nods. Lilac swallows again, before nodding and releasing her hold. The changeling scrambles over to the man, giggling happily as they’re scooped up.

“Alright, you monster,” the fae teases, “Say bye to your new friend.”

“Bye-bye!” the changeling chirps, birdsong weaving through their voice. Lilac relaxes a bit and waves in return, watching as the fae says something to Miss Witch, only for her to scowl at him and Price to narrow his eyes. Quickly, he, his dog, and the changeling leave the cottage, as if this is a normal occasion.

“Is th-this normal?” Lilac asks.

“About every other week,” Miss Witch sighs, rubbing at her temples, “Keegan is a pain, but he’s fairly harmless. Especially around his kid. Just be careful if you see him on the street without his kid or partner.”

“You have trouble with him?” Price asks her, his head snapping to look at her in concern and an almost righteous fury. Miss Witch waves it away.

“No, more like he enjoys getting a rise out of people,” she explains with a sigh. Lilac swears she hears Price mutter about sounding right, but she’s more concerned with her teacher’s frown.

“U-um,” Lilac stutters, “D-do you want t-to have your t-tea out in th-the garden? I-I-I can make it!” Miss Witch blinks at the offer before smiling, patting Lilac’s head.

“Yes, please,” she agrees, turning to her garden and heading out. Lilac feels warm from Miss Witch’s kindness, unable to help but touch where the woman’s hand had patted.

“You’re a pretty good kid,” Price says, startling Lilac from enjoying her warmth. Looking up, a sudden chill runs down her spine at the cold blue that stares down at her. He leans close and warns with smoke curling from his maw, “Don’t do anything too stupid. You hurt her, you can disappear. Clear?” Lilac nods, mute in terror as examples of her ‘disappearance’ form from his smoke. He leans back and suddenly, he’s Price, the strange fae who likes Miss Witch again. He pats her shoulder and saunters out to the garden.

Lilac fixes up the tea and pours out a mug of wine that Miss Witch does every time she goes into the garden, her mind spinning at the whiplash of this past few hours. Especially Price’s threat. Did she do something to upset him? Did she seem like a threat? Carrying the drinks out, Lilac notices that Price is now on the other side of the gate, almost pouting as Miss Witch scowls at him.

“U-um,” she starts, only to tense when Miss Witch snatches up the mug of wine and slams it on the wall.

“Finish that, then on your way,” she snaps.

“I only did that for your protection,” he says, like a reminder or an explanation.

“Just because it was in good intentions doesn’t excuse you for basically threatening my trainee!” she snaps. Price huffs and takes a long drink from his mug, averting his eyes. Miss Witch sighs and turns to a confused Lilac.

“Sorry about the overprotective idiot,” Miss Witch apologizes.

“O-oh, no! I-i-it’s okay!” Lilac tries to assure her, “I m-must’ve done something wrong! I-I can’t do m-m-much right, s-so it’s fine.” Miss Witch gets that pinched look on her face, the same look she gets when Lilac mentions things Granny yelled at her. From the corner of her eye, Price grimaces, putting down his mug.

“No, little witch. Keegan just riled me up and you were an easy target,” Price explains with a sigh, setting his mug down. Lilac blinks at that declaration while Miss Witch sighs. The woman gently scolds the fae while Lilac mulls his words over. Is she an easy target? She’s never been told that, so she’s not sure. Maybe it’s something that will make sense when she’s older.

[agoldengalaxy]

Dog Days Are Over

read on Ao3

words: 3909

{Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 Spoiler alert!}

“It’s weird, dontcha think?” Rocket asked softly. “Can’t remember the last time it felt so good around here.”

“Yes.” Nebula paused, then looked down at her lap. “I hope…you are feeling it, too.”

--

Rocket was trying to process a lot all at once, and it sort of felt like his head was going to explode. Everything was the same and different all at once. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it all.

While walking around aimlessly, he found Gamora waiting in the hangar for the Ravagers to arrive, lacing up her boots. He knew she’d probably prefer if he just kept walking and left her alone, but if he were being honest, he knew he’d regret saying nothing before she left. Huffing a sigh, he stopped, not too close to her but not too far.

“Hey. Cool shoes you got there.”

She looked up, her hair framing her face, the face that had once belonged to someone he called a friend, but not anymore. Much to his surprise, instead of ignoring him, she cleared her throat and finished tying her laces, then sat back to look at him. “Thanks. How are you feeling?”

“Me? Oh. I’m great. Yeah. Feels like things are settlin’, y’know?” He wasn’t sure if he really believed it himself, but he had to at least try. She nodded.

“That’s good.”

They regarded each other for a moment, and Rocket had to try really hard not to reminisce. God, he felt like Quill. He looked away, shaking his head. “Look, uh…I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You didn’t have to help me and you did. So…thanks.”

Perhaps as surprised as he was that he had thanked her, she blinked and looked away, shrugging a shoulder. It seemed like she wasn’t going to respond until she looked down at her lap. “I’m…glad you made it,” she said softly, belatedly meeting his gaze. “You have a lot of people that care about you.”

He felt his eyes prick, and he had to avert his gaze to hide it. “Yeah, well. I ain’t done with the galaxy yet.” When he forced himself to look back at her, she was watching him curiously. “I know you found a place with the Ravagers, but you’ll always have a home here, too. Just, uh…just wanted to put that out there.”

Gamora seemed surprised by that. A slight smile pulled at her lips. “I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you.”

“All right. Safe travels, and all that. Don’t let any of ‘em kill each other.”

Through a chuckle, she shook her head. “No promises.”

That reminded him of the Gamora he knew. He gave her one more smile, turning to go as he watched Nebula and Peter approach. Before they could see him, he walked away, hoping that he’d see her again someday.

***

Not for the first time in his life, Rocket was relieved to hear quiet humming coming from down the hall. Attaching the Zune to his hip, he walked slowly and quietly toward the source, resisting the urge to hum along to the tune that was being sung in favor of keeping the quiet for a few moments longer.

Carefully, he moved to stand in the doorway, leaning against it, watching Peter pack up his things. His back was to the door as he crumpled up some shirts and threw them into a bag, his head bopping. His humming was quiet this time, under his breath like he didn’t want to disturb anyone.

Rocket detached the Zune from his hip, holding it up, and finally broke the quiet with a smile on his face. “Don’t ya think you’d like ‘Do You Realize’ better with the actual music?”

Peter jumped, whirling around with a hand over his heart. “Jesus! You scared me.”

“Obviously. Look at your face. You got that dumb expression on it again.” He stepped forward, holding the Zune out to him. Maybe not in the mood to debate it, or deciding it wasn’t worth it to get offended over that comment, Peter took the device, noticing that Rocket had already queued up the song he’d been humming. The corner of his mouth twitched upward as he pressed play, letting the song play quietly as he tossed it onto his bed.

“…You okay?”

The question caught Rocket off guard. He scoffed, looking away for a moment. Physically, he’d recovered completely. Everything else, he wasn’t quite sure - but it wasn’t like he was about to admit all that to Peter Quill of all people. “Yeah. I’m good. Never thought I’d be takin’ care of a dozen baby raccoons, though.”

Peter snorted, folding a shirt up against his chest. “I’m so glad you’ve finally realized what you are.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, Star Munch. I still won’t answer to it when it comes from you.”

“And I won’t answer to Star Munch.”

Though there was usually some kind of hostility in this type of teasing, it wasn’t present right now. Rocket rubbed the back of his neck, deciding to voice the real reason he’d come to Peter’s room. A small grin pulled at his lips as he crossed his arms, leaning sideways against the doorframe, using his ability to be annoying as a cover for really wanting to know the answer. “So, I heard from Nebula that you called me your best friend.”

“What?” Peter’s brows knitted together, and he seemed to be trying to hide the embarrassment from his expression. Unfortunately for him, his face grew reddish and he waved his hand dismissively, the way he always did when he was lying. “Psh. You know how Nebula is. Always…joking around.”

Rocket raised a brow at him. Peter sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“Yeah. Okay, I did. I had no idea what to do with myself when I thought you…I mean, you probably would have been fine if I hadn’t been drinking again, and…” Peter turned away to face his bed, releasing a quiet, shaky sigh. “I’m sorry, Rocket.”

Suddenly, Rocket felt a lump form in his throat, and he swallowed it down. “Don’t beat yourself up about that, Quill. It ain’t your fault. Adam kicked all our asses. You coulda gotten hurt, too.”

Running a hand through his hair, Peter turned around slowly. “It’s why I gotta go,” he said softly, his eyes shining. “I need to move on.”

“I know.” He did, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt that he was leaving. “Your grandpa’s gonna be one lucky son of a bitch to have you home.”

Peter smiled slightly, releasing the tension that had been building up in his shoulders. He sat on the edge of his bed carefully, patting the place next to him. Rocket rolled his eyes but moved forward anyway, hopping up to sit beside him.

For a moment, they sat quietly, listening to the Zune. A sense of comfort and familiarity washed over them, but Rocket felt like he should break it.

“Hey, for the record,” he said, staring down at his lap, “you’re my best friend, too.”

Peter didn’t respond, and Rocket couldn’t bring himself to look up, but he slowly felt an arm come to rest around his shoulders. Rocket leaned his head against Peter’s arm gently, and they sat there for a while, listening.

And the next morning, when Rocket woke up in Peter’s bed by himself, he found the Zune had been left behind for him.

***

“So, I hear you’re an Abilisk whisperer now.”

Mantis whirled around, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Rocket!” She gave him a sheepish smile, looking between the three creatures she had just been talking to. “Not a whisperer. I just calmed their fears. I wanted them to know we would not hurt them.”

Chuckling a little, Rocket stepped closer, lifting a hand to shield his eyes as he stared upward. “Sounds like a whisperer to me.” His gaze slid from the Abilisk to Mantis, who was looking at him curiously. “You almost ready to go?”

“Yes. I am almost finished. I will find these three a proper home and see some of the galaxy with nobody telling me what to do. I think it will be fun.” She drew herself up, like she was trying to convince herself. “And someday, I will come back.”

“…I’m happy for ya. Really.”

What he didn’t say was how much he was going to miss her, her positivity and her kindness, her absolute unabashed love for others. He was learning that he really didn’t like change, but who was he to tell anyone what to do?

Mantis smiled, this time more genuinely, and knelt down on the dirt so they could be eye level. Usually that would piss him off, but he had something of a soft spot for her. She was just so innocent, he couldn’t possibly stay mad at her.

“Thank you. I know it will not be easy, but I have to go.” Her gaze drifted toward Drax for a moment, who was busy being surrounded by a group of children. Rocket followed her gaze, then looked back toward her, knowing that if anyone was going to take her departure really hard, it would be him. They were close, like how Rocket and Groot were close.

“This ain’t goodbye, y’know. We’ll see each other again. You just gotta make sure the big idiot knows that before you go.” He paused. “I hope you find what you’re lookin’ for, Mantis, and I hope you find it fast. You better come home as soon as you’re done.”

Mantis blinked, her eyes shining, then broke into a smile. She leaned forward, pulling him into a gentle embrace, light enough that he would be able to pull away if he wanted. And maybe any other day he would have, but today, he lifted his arms slowly to return the hug. As he did so, she tightened it a little.

“I am so glad you are okay,” she whispered in his ear. “I will be back before you know it.”

They held each other for just a moment before he pulled away, waving a hand dismissively. “All right, all right. Get on with it. Don’t wanna keep your dirty pets waiting.”

She gasped, standing up to look around at her Abelisks. “They are not dirty!”

“Oh, yeah? That one’s got a mud spot the size of one of Drax’s turds.”

Mantis looked over at the creature in question, then pulled a face. “Okay. Maybe they are a little dirty. I will find some place to bathe them.”

“Good.” Rocket chuckled, then stepped back, giving her a final wave. She returned it as Drax began approaching, and Rocket took that opportunity to excuse himself - but he still watched from a distance as they said goodbye, and watched her walk away until he couldn’t see her anymore.

Her return couldn’t come soon enough.

***

In the dead of night, when things should have been quiet and he couldn’t sleep, Rocket could hear soft crying. He almost wanted to ignore it, knowing that if it were him, he’d want to be left alone, but it wasn’t him. Maybe someone needed something. Maybe, as the captain, that was his job.

Pushing himself out of bed, he walked toward the source of the noise, finding it coming from Drax’s room. A soft light filtered into the hall from the room, and now that he was closer, Rocket could hear quiet murmuring over the crying. Curiously, he peeked his head inside.

Sitting on the bed was Drax, and in his lap was a small girl, one of the children that the High Evolutionary created. Tears streamed down her face but she stared, transfixed, at Drax, who was singing something quietly to her and rubbing her back. Even Rocket found himself somewhat relaxed listening to Drax’s uncharacteristically quiet and soothing voice, and eventually the child’s eyes closed, and she leaned against Drax’s chest. He held her there for a moment as he finished his song, and when she didn’t wake, he carefully stood up with her in his arms.

There, he noticed Rocket. He blinked, and Rocket blinked back, giving him a shrug. Drax smiled slightly and left the room, heading down the hall toward some of the children’s rooms. Rocket waited where he was, knowing that Drax was probably going to tuck the kid in.

A moment later, when he returned, Rocket followed him into his room. Drax seemed just a little sheepish as he sat on his bed. “You heard that?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Drax shook his head. Awkward silence filled the room for a moment before he continued. “She had a bad dream, and came to me.” There was a mix of emotion on his face, and Rocket couldn’t quite place any of them. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Frowning a little, Rocket shook his head. “Nah, I was up anyhow.” He wasn’t quite sure what to do now. Should he just leave? Perhaps he would have, but Drax’s expression resembled a kicked puppy. He shifted his weight. This was not the Drax he knew, and he didn’t like it. “You, uh, you okay? You’re kinda freakin’ me out with that look on your face.”

“I am fine.” He paused, then looked down. “I…I haven’t been a father in a very long time. It’s strange. I don’t know if I remember how to do it. They all remind me of my daughter.”

Rocket eyed him, then scoffed. “Well, you got nothin’ to worry about. Those kids love you. You’re doing a great job. Your dead kid’s proud of you somewhere.”

Leaning his elbows on his knees, Drax sighed softly. “Thank you.”

He didn’t seem convinced. Rocket frowned, moving closer. “Drax, that kid chose to come to you when she was upset. If that doesn’t prove you’re doing good, nothing will, you idiot.” Drax blinked, the words seemingly sinking in slowly. Rocket noticed the shadows beneath his eyes then, and he spoke before really thinking. “You don’t look good.”

“I have not been sleeping well,” Drax admitted. “The kids are great. I’m really happy, but…I miss Quill and Mantis.”

Rocket huffed a sigh, scratching the back of his head. “I do, too. But they had to go, and we had to stay. These kids need you more than anyone else. They never had a dad before, and you can be that for them.” He knew he would have liked something like that when he escaped, but he wouldn’t say that out loud.

“Wow…” Drax’s brows furrowed. “When you talk like that, you sound like a real captain.”

“That’s because I am, jackass.” Despite the comeback, his voice was gentle. “Now go to bed, will ya? You’ll be useless if you’re tired.”

Drax watched him, slowly laying down. “I will not be useless. Even tired, my mind is sharp and my body is strong. I would still be able to vanquish any…any living threat that…that…comes our…way…”

While he spoke, his eyes fluttered closed, the last word punctuated by quiet snores. Rocket rolled his eyes fondly, moving forward to pull the blanket up over his bare chest.

“Good night, you green moron.”

***

While an Earth, Wind, & Fire song played over the speakers, Rocket handed some food down to the baby raccoons from where he sat on the staircase. The babies let out excited squeaks as they bumbled all over each other to get to the food. Rocket couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Take it easy, ya furry idiots. There’s enough for all of ya.”

They didn’t ever seem to understand what he was saying, but that didn’t stop them from absolutely adoring him - and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same about them. This was the life he and his friends should have been given, and he was happy to provide them with it, albeit the feeling being somewhat bittersweet.

Each of the babies having some piece, they calmed down enough to eat their food and stop climbing all over each other. He wondered if he really had been this small before. He must have been.

“I have no idea how you haven’t lost any of them yet.”

A familiar voice appeared above him, so he looked up, finding Nebula standing there with her hand on her hip. He huffed a sigh, not bothering to hide his slight grin. “I’m the best frickin’ caretaker they got. The kids helped me name ‘em, and it surprisingly makes it easier to keep ‘em straight.”

Nebula exhaled in the way that Rocket knew was her version of a laugh, and stepped carefully over to sit beside him on the stairs. The raccoons’ happy chewing was the only sound for a moment as they looked out at Knowhere. Nearby, children giggled as they played one of their made up games. Groot and Adam were helping rebuild the destruction that had befell the planet, putting up some of the redone signs. Kraglin and Cosmo napped together against one of the nearby pillars. The music played softly, the air completely still and peaceful.

“It’s weird, dontcha think?” Rocket asked softly. “Can’t remember the last time it felt so good around here.”

“Yes.” Nebula paused, then looked down at her lap. “I hope…you are feeling it, too.”

That surprised him. Glancing toward her, he took in her expression - it was nearly blank, the way it often was, besides the way her jaw was clenched. He raised a brow. “What brought this on? Never pegged you to be the emotional type.”

“I’m not.” She huffed, meeting his eyes. “It’s just…I never knew how similar we were.” Nebula was not one to shy away from saying what had happened to her while Rocket was. Now that part of him that he had hidden was made very well known to his friends. Before he could even think of what to say, she continued. “I am the happiest I’ve ever been,” she admitted. “Taking care of the kids, being here with you and the others, it makes me feel like I have a purpose other than what Thanos wanted from me.”

Rocket thought about the crazed look in the High Evolutionary’s eyes, the one he noticed more often the older he got. He sighed softly as he glanced down at the baby raccoons, who were now running around and playing with each other, thinking about the long five years he’d spent with only Nebula as his company thanks to the Blip. Perhaps if it were anyone else, he wouldn’t entertain this type of conversation, but with her, he was comfortable. “Yeah. Me too.”

After another moment of quiet, Nebula glanced down in surprise, finding one of the babies had stepped its front paws onto her boot, looking up at her curiously. Its nose twitched, like it wanted to be closer. Rocket chuckled.

“Looks like Stripes likes ya.”

“Stripes?” she repeated, frowning. Perhaps she thought if she stared at the animal long enough it would give up, but it didn’t. Relenting with a heavy sigh, she bent down and scooped the raccoon into her arms, where it happily squeaked and nestled in close. “I don’t know how you tell them apart.”

Shrugging, Rocket’s gaze swept across all of the babies, each of them with slightly different personalities and ways of showing affection. He smiled. “Must be luck.”

She hesitated, then smiled, too. “Yeah. Sure.”

They sat shoulder to shoulder for a long while after that, just taking in the peace and enjoying each other’s company. The way Rocket saw it, two rejects finding comfort and family in the galaxy. He was more grateful for it that he could verbalize.

***

The gunshot rang through the metal halls, but the only sound he could hear after the fact was his own screaming. His vision blurred with tears, soon turning everything red. Tackling the High Evolutionary, he hit and scratched and didn’t relent, wanting to kill him, wanting him to feel the pain that he felt, wanting to stop him from hurting anyone ever again -

Rocket lurched up from his mattress, having to swallow the bile that threatened to rise up his throat. His claws were outstretched, stopped by a thick branch that kept his arms by his side. Through blurry eyes, he looked beside his bed and found Groot sitting there, eyes wide and full of concern.

“You were screaming,” Groot managed, looking upset. “I thought you were going to hurt yourself.” To anyone else, of course, it would just sound as if he were saying I Am Groot, but Rocket knew him better than anyone else.

He cleared his throat, trying to calm his racing heart. “I’m fine, you big lug, get your arm offa me.”

Somewhat hesitantly, Groot removed the branch from Rocket’s chest and instead moved to sit on the end of the bed, twiddling his thumbs. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He didn’t like how it made him feel, how the rage had almost caused him to take that life in cold blood, as terrible as that life had been. He didn’t like hearing the sound of the gun, the sound that Lylla had made when she hit the floor, the sound of his own screams. He didn’t like to remember that it was his fault that Floor and Teefs had died.

Awkward silence was the response for a moment before Groot spoke up again. “Rocket,” he murmured, “it’s okay to not be okay.”

Rocket’s heart lurched. Without realizing it, his voice broke. “Whaddya mean? Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be okay? Who said it wasn’t okay?” Gently, Groot’s arm extended, and with a thin finger, he wiped a tear from Rocket’s cheek, who hadn't even noticed he’d been crying. A shiver ran down his back and he closed his eyes, leaning into his friend’s touch. “I’m sorry, Groot. I’m a mess.”

“No.” He shook his head, retracting his hand. “You are strong. You are kind. You are our captain . You are…my hero. You always have been.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing. “What happened to you was not your fault.”

Something broke deep inside him. After all this time, after everything he’d ever done, Groot still thought so highly of him. Tears flowed freely, and Rocket squeezed his eyes shut, biting his tongue to keep from making some inhuman noise. Groot pulled him close, and Rocket leaned against him, feeling like Groot was trying to put him back together again with his embrace. They sat there until Rocket’s chest stopped heaving.

Quietly, he pulled away, utterly exhausted and trying to regain some kind of composure. “Thanks. Sorry I got your trunk wet.”

Groot chuckled a little, shaking his head dismissively. After a moment, he moved to stand. “I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

“Wait.” He almost cringed at the suddenness of the word, but sighed instead. “Wouldja stay here just a little longer?”

Smiling slightly, Groot nodded and sat back against the wall. Rocket moved to lean against his arm, stretching out his legs in front of him. The quiet whir of the lights outside and Groot’s steady breathing soothed him more than he would have liked to admit.

“Hey…I love you, you know.” The words were quietly mumbled, the way Groot often did, and Rocket glanced up, feeling his heart burst.

He hid his smile by curling into him further, closing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too, you big idiot. Now go to sleep.”

Both of them fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

[sombersummerskies]

A Champion's Love: Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Heart to Heart Word Count: 7531 CW: None

Want all the chapters? -> Masterlist

~~~ <> ~~~

Hours later, the dim rays of the sunrise are what awake you. Your eyes flutter as you get a hold of your bearings, adjusting to the light filtering in through the arched window. Flexing your fingers, you run your palm over something smooth and firm- only to realize you’re leaning against someone’s chest.

The someone more specifically being the currently asleep prince of the Zora.

Your cheeks warm as you think back to the previous evening. Spending the night in the prince’s chambers, the two of you had stayed up well into the hours of twilight keeping each other company, sharing kisses and whispers of affection while bundled up together. You’d fallen asleep in his arms, dozing off while pressed flush against his chest.

Interestingly, it was the safest you’d felt in quite some time. Snugly secure in the prince’s arms. You’d be damned if it wasn’t how you’d want to spend every night for the rest of your life.

Gazing up at the Zora in question now, you smiled softly looking at his sleeping form. His chest raised and lowered slowly as he slumbered away, his lips quirked up in the faintest of smiles. 

Carefully, you move out of his grasp, wiggling out of the cushioned seating area you’d used as a bed. Stretching your legs momentarily, you use this time to curiously look around the prince’s room. 

His desk is relatively neat, aside from the stray piece of parchment paper, with a rather fancy looking quill and ink pot at the prince’s disposal for whatever letters he’d have to pen or diplomatic papers to sign. The pool of water appeared relatively undisturbed, and cleaned, you assumed the servant’s had picked up any odd items that’d been left strewn about when you’d been called to see the council yesterday.

With a sigh, you pick up your silver armband that the prince had gifted you all those weeks ago and smile, twirling it in your fingers as you waltz over to one of the tall windows. Looking out, you can’t help but admire Zora’s domain at dawn.

The cliffs and mountains of the upperlands are lit up by the rising sun of the east, and the outcrops of luminous stones in the hillsides reflect the sunbeams brightly, casting light in patterns only nature itself could design. The lake the palace is built in trickles calmly at this time of day, and when you gaze down over the edge you can see the Zora who live underwater beginning to wake up and swim around, greeting one another and moving on to do their daily tasks.

It’s a charming place. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to live here… permanently. Would that even be something you wanted?

A soft knock at the chamber door pulls you out of your thoughts. You cast a glance to the prince, who simply shuffles in his sleep and turns onto his side. With a quiet laugh, you walk away from the window and towards the door, setting down the armband before pulling it open. “Sid-” a voice begins, before stopping abruptly.

When you look up, you’re greeted by Bazz.

The captain of the guard seems utterly confused by your presence. His yellow eyes give you a once over before he cranes his head to look into the room behind you.

“Where is the prince?” he asks you with a clearing of his throat.

“Asleep,” you reply, nodding your head in Sidon’s general direction.

Bazz tilts his head to the side, and you watch as he puts the pieces of the puzzle together- you can practically see the cogs turning in his head.

Suddenly his eyes go wide, and a smirk plays on his lips. “You spent the night in Sidon’s bedchambers.”

“Perhaps,” you mumble, “depends… you won’t let word slip to the other guards, will you?”

He quickly shakes his head, “of course not. I’ve known Sidon since we were both hatchlings. I’m his friend first, and his guard second.”

“Then yes, I did spend the night in his room, but no nothing scandalous happened, so don’t even bother asking,” you explain, crossing your arms over your chest. The guard throws up his hands in defense, giving you a cheeky sharp-toothed grin, “of course, champion. My lips are sealed. It was only a matter of time before this happened, he let slip to me about a certain mark he may or may not have left on you the other day.”

You choke hearing this, one of your hands instinctively moving up to cover the part of your neck where Sidon had essentially left a hickey.

Narrowing your eyes at Bazz, you drop your voice, just in case any palace staff happens to be walking by. “That um… that also stays between us.” “Of course,” he chuckles good heartedly, “anyways, I came by to let the prince know that his father and Princess Zelda would like to meet with him. Zelda had also asked me to find you and invite you to the throne room as well, but it appears I needn’t search any further.”

You stick your tongue out at him, getting another laugh out of the guard.

“Understood,” you sigh, giving him a good natured smile, “I’ll go ahead and wake up sleeping beauty. Let Zelda know we’ll be up soon.”

Bazz nods, giving you a cheeky wink before jogging away down the hall.

Shutting the door, you return to the prince who was still dozing off peacefully. Carefully, you crawl back onto the cushions to kneel beside him.

“Sidon,” you murmur in a sing-song voice, “princey, it’s time to wake up.”

Gently, you nudge his shoulders.

In response, he mumbles in his sleep and stirs slightly.

Giggling, you repeat his name, “Sidon~” With a few more nudges of encouragement, he finally begins to wake. There’s a rumble in his chest as he groans, sleepily opening his eyes as he lifts a hand to rub them. His yellow irises flicker around the room before finally settling on you, and his lips spread into a smile. “Well hello there, little one. Isn’t this a lovely sight for my morning,” he greets you, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

You grin back at him, “I could say the same thing. Waking up in your arms was rather nice. However, we can’t stay in and cuddle all day, your father wants to see us.”

He blinks, “whatever for?”

“No clue,” you shrug, “Bazz swung by and said the king and Zelda wanted to see us. He was also a bit shocked, but not surprised, by my presence in your bedchambers.”

Sidon chuckles at this, “ah yes. I may have neglected to let you know that I’ve been confiding in Bazz in regards to my… struggles.”

You laugh at this, snorting a bit, “ struggles?”

A blue blush dusts the prince’s cheeks, “let’s just say it’s been quite the time since I’ve been so enamored with a being as to want to court them.”

“Awhhh, you’re enamored with me?” you tease him, poking his side as you grin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game prodding me like that, little Hylian,” he warns you, narrowing his gaze.

You roll your eyes, “oh I’m so scared-”

You’re unable to finish your sentence before the prince suddenly leaps, swooping you into his arms. A yelp just barely escapes your lips as you’re pinned down onto the cushions, with the Zora prince looming over you.

His hands grip onto either side of you, securing you in place, and your face feels so warm that you could’ve been literally lit on fire and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. When your eyes meet his, his hold on you tenses, and he tilts his head to the side as he smirks.

“I did warn you, little one,” he grins, bearing his sharp teeth at you.

“Whatever,” you reply stubbornly, puffing out your cheeks in an attempt to ignore their warmth, “why don’t you get down here and kiss me?”

He blinks, taken aback by your forwardness.

“Was that too much-” you attempt to ask, but are interrupted by Sidon leaning down to press his lips against yours sweetly. You squeak in surprise, before allowing yourself to melt into the kiss happily.

The moment doesn’t last very long, however, and all too soon the prince is pulling back.

“As much as I’d adore keeping you in my embrace all day, it would be best for us to go meet with my father,” he murmurs, his lips mere centimeters away from your own.

“Yeahhh, you’re right,” you sigh, “c’mon, let’s get properly dressed.”

When the Zora removes his hands from your waist, you immediately miss his touch. You watch as he moves across the room to replace his typical accessories, slipping his silver bands onto his wrist and ankles, affixing his belt and sash and neck piece with all their rope adornments, as well as the plumed headpiece he wore on the crest of his head fin.

You were already mostly dressed, you simply needed to fit the Zora armor back on over your torso and arms and secure the scabbard of the Master Sword around you as well.

“Are you ready to go, darling?”

You’d been in the middle of fumbling with the cuffs of your armor when you heard Sidon’s question, and it caused your whole body to go still.

“Darling?” you repeat, a cheeky smile playing on your face.

“Do you not like it?” the prince asks with concern.

“No- I mean yes! I mean… I do like it,” you stammer with a blush, “I’m just not used to cute little nicknames like that.”

Your flusteredness makes Sidon chuckle as he steps up to you, “regardless, you look as splendid as ever.”

“Oh hush,” you reply, brushing aside the compliment, “you look good too. Except, let me just-”

You reach up to adjust his silken cravat, adjusting how the fabric sits beneath the silver neck piece. Once you fix the ruffles, you brush your fingers over the rounded gem of luminous stone decorating his collarbone before smiling up at him, “there we go. Perfect.”

He grins down at you, lending you his arm, “then will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the throne room?”

“Certainly,” you reply with a giggle, looping your arm through his.

As a pair, you exit his bedchambers and walk through the hallways of the palace. Unsurprisingly, you attract the attention of servants and staff who were going about doing their morning rounds, and the sound of small whispers and titters of gossip was becoming oh-so familiar to your ears.

It didn’t take very long for you to reach the steps of the throne room though, and you’re greeted by the guards as you walk up the stairs.

“Good morning my son, and you as well Hylian Champion,” King Dorephan says once you reach the top of the steps. You see him glance down at the two of you, and once he spies the way your arms are locked together, he gives you a knowing smile.

“Morning, father,” Sidon replies politely as always.

“G’morning, your highness” you say with a grin, bowing your head.

You see Zelda at the side of the throne who seems to be having a conversation with Muzu. When she glances over, she gives you a wide smile and a wave, which you reciprocate. 

Stepping back, you allow the prince his privacy to speak with Dorephan and Muzu, and in the meantime the princess rushes over to you.

“Well good morning to you,” she says with a cheeky smile, “wherever did you escape to last night? You never showed up at the guest chambers.”

“Don’t freak out, but I spent the night in Sidon’s room,” you reply, leaning in to whisper it into her ear.

She loudly gasps, and you quickly shush her.

“You what?” she asks, grinning at you.

“I said don’t freak out,” you laugh, “but yes, I spent the night with him, nothing insane or anything but…”

“But?” she repeats, her green eyes brimming with curiosity. 

“There may or may not have been some kissing involved,” you mumble.

She practically squeals with excitement and you shush her once more, but can’t help giggling along with her.

It’d been so long since you’d been able to act your age. Well, discounting the one hundred years you’d been left in a deep slumber, you were still a teenager at heart. Fighting against the forces of Ganon and becoming a knight of the royal family at a young age had caused you to need to mature rather quickly, you’d nearly forgotten how it felt to act like the teen you were.

To be able to gossip and chat with your closest friend, to be able to whisper about boys as any other young woman around Hyrule could.

The calamity had robbed many things from you. Time, friends, your home… and your childhood, in a way.

It was time to start taking it back.

Once your little gossip session is over, Zelda approaches Sidon and King Dorephan to explain her goal for the day.

“As you know well by now, I plan on finding new pilots for each of the Divine Beasts,” she begins to explain, “and we’ve had a wonderful start with Prince Sidon. Soon though, _____ and I will be leaving to meet with our other candidates. A few days ago I sent a letter to the Gerudo expressing my interest in their Chief Riju to become the next pilot for Naboris, and this morning I received word back that she’s interested in discussing this more with me. However, before we go, I would like to run a test trial of Ruta with the prince to make sure its mechanisms are running smoothly, and to make sure he can learn the basics of piloting a Divine Beast.”

After some more discussion, an excursion is planned: Sidon, Zelda, and you will travel to the Divine Beast once more, accompanied by Bazz. Once inside the Divine Beast, Zelda will assist the prince in learning how to control Ruta, or at the very least she’ll teach him the essential basics.

Outside the throne room, the captain of the guard arrives swiftly and has all the details explained to him. As he and Sidon plan a route through the upperland, though, you curiously ask for the Sheikah Slate from Zelda.

“Ummm… not to put a damper on your guys’ planning, but I know a pretty simple way to get the Divine Beast,” you say, waving the slate in your hand.

The prince and the guard look at you with confusion, but the princess groans and hangs her head.

“Not this again,” she sighs.

“Whatever are you talking about, little one?” Sidon asks, but when you wave the slate he gets a knowing look on his face, remembering how you’d used it during his first trial.

“Well,” you begin, tapping the face of the tablet to bring up its map, “the Sheikah Slate is connected to nearly every other physical piece of Sheikah technology around Hyrule. The laboratories, shrines, towers, and the Divine Beasts. Using the slate, we can travel to each of these locations.”

“Travel… how exactly?” Bazz prods.

A grin makes its way to your face and you motion for the three of them to step closer. You hold out the slate and instruct each of them to place their hand upon it. Once they have, you tap the map to focus on the area of the Zora Upperland where Ruta is currently situated. You spy the small elephant-shaped icon and smile as you press it.

Suddenly, you feel much lighter, and your stomach does a flip as you’re lifted off of the ground. Bright blue streams of light surround all four of you, and you hear both the prince and the guard make confused noises as you’re whisked away to a new location.

In a matter of seconds you’re deposited on a flat, wet area and stumble momentarily as you regain your footing.

Looking around, you see that you’ve been deposited at Divine Beast Vah Ruta’s feet, and the familiar machine is glowing a bright blue, almost as if it’s happy to see all of you.

Turning back around, you giggle upon seeing the state your three companions are in. Zelda looks to be relatively the best, having experienced fast travel via Sheikah Slate before. Sidon and Bazz, however, are both doubled over and clutching their stomachs.

“Why-” Bazz attempts to speak, but his voice is caught in his throat as he lurches forward, “sweet Hylia, that is not easy on the stomach. Why haven’t you shown us this before?”

“For this exact reason,” you laugh, “I didn’t get accustomed to traveling with the slate like that until I’d used the feature dozens of times. You’ve only used it once and you both look pale and sick- not to mention, I have a theory that the farther you use it to travel, the worse the side effects are.” “I’ve only done that once before, I’d entirely forgotten about the… sickening sensation,” the prince groans, leaning against his friend.

“We’re going to have to speak with Purah about calibrating that,” the princess pipes up, brushing back her hair to reveal her flushed face.

You give the three some time to recover before returning to the matter at hand. Looking back to Ruta, the Divine Beast was still leaning on its back legs as it had been the previous time. The rope you’d used to scale its side had been left behind, so it’s what you all use to re-enter.

Bazz ascends first, to make sure the area inside is safe and clear, before calling you up to follow him. Once on the platform, you peer inside. The Divine Beast is still dormant, with some water left behind in its shallow pond. The terminals in the bottom floor Ruta glow a faint blue, but other than that, there’s nothing of note.

“It’s safe, go ahead and climb,” you call out to the prince and princess.

Zelda is the next one to reach the platform, and finally you’re joined by Sidon, who you offer a hand to in helping him up.

Once you’ve all reconvened, you have the Sheikah Slate to the princess, who brings up the map and schematics of the Divine Beast on its screen. “We’ll need to go to the main terminal, which is in the side room to the right here. Sidon, you will have to assure that he’s able to access Ruta from there, since you won’t always have the slate as a secondary control,” she explains.

Nodding your head, the three of them follow you inside and you lead them towards the main terminal. You remember it well, it’s where you’d had your standoff with Waterblight Ganon and where you’d seen Mipha last.

‘Mipha’s spirit,’ you remind yourself, ‘she’s dead. But… she’s still here. In our hearts, in the healing powers she’s given me… maybe even still inside of Ruta’.

There’s an odd tilt to the main room due the way the Divine Beast is sat. The floor of the room has dried since you were last here, the water evaporated away since Ruta no longer sits in the reservoir. The large terminal hums a low noise and glows a dim blue, with sunlight streaming in from the windows high above.

Bazz and Zelda walk ahead of you just fine, the captain curious to explore the area, and the princess moving swiftly to the terminal to examine it.

Sidon stops at the entryway. 

Curiously, you turn to look back at him. You nearly ask him what’s wrong, before stopping in yourself, catching the words before they’re spoken.

You’d fought Waterblight Ganon here… but so had he.

“Sidon,” you mumble, reaching a hand out to rub his arm soothingly, “it’s okay I… I fought here too. I understand.”

There’s a cold look in his eyes as he gazes around the room, and his whole body is tense. When he locks eyes with you, you flinch slightly, not at all used to seeing him look so intense.

He blinks. Then relaxes his shoulders. He lifts a hand to touch yours before lacing your fingers together. “Apologies, little one, it’s just…” he begins, voice soft, “last time I saw this room I barely made it out alive. And I fought one of the most terrifying battles I will likely see for the rest of my life.”

“I know,” you reply gently, “but it’s gone. He’s gone. You’re safe, and I’m safe… all of us.”

You hold back from speaking Mipha’s name, but when you meet his eyes you can tell you’re both thinking the same thing. Not everyone who fought Ganon, in his many forms, made it out alive.

“Sidon?”

Zelda’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts. You turn back to see her looking at the two of you. She’s placed the slate upon the terminal’s pedestal, causing it to glow brighter.

“If you’re ready, I believe Ruta is prepared to meet you,” she continues, smiling.

The prince nods, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly before letting go. Sidon walks towards the terminal, holding his head up high. You watch as Zelda whispers some instructions to him, and you’re reminded of when she’d done the same with Mipha all those years ago.

You were all so much younger then. Naive. Blind to the future.

Biting down on your lip, you watch as the prince lifts his hand, before pressing it against the pedestal of the terminal. For a second, nothing happens, and all is silent as you, the princess, and the captain watch.

Suddenly, there’s a loud trumpeting noise, and you gasp as the floor shakes beneath you.

“She’s awake!” Zelda exclaims, a grin on her face as she holds onto the terminal to maintain her balance.

You wobble back and forth as the Divine Beast moves, seemingly to stand on all four of its legs. Quickly, the prince moves his fingers across the terminal pedestal, and the movement comes to a pause.

“Oh, brilliant!” the princess cheers, “so, Ruta’s responsive to you without the aid of the Sheikah Slate, which is wonderful news meaning she accepts you as the pilot. For now you’ll need to use the terminal to guide her and use her weaponry, but eventually you’ll be more in tune with her. At least, that’s how Mipha had put it in her journal. She said after weeks after piloting the Divine Beast, it was as if they’d connected on a personal level. She no longer needed to use the physical terminal to move Ruta, she’d simply think of the command and it would happen.”

The next few hours are filled with more trial runs as Sidon learns the basics of being a pilot. You watch him learn how to make the Divine Beast move from side to side, walk back and forth, raise and lower her trunk, bring forth her endless stream of water, and even summon the ice blocks that she’d once used to attack both you and Sidon when you’d first attempted to board her to reclaim her.

“My you’re quite the fast learner, Prince Sidon, I’ll give you that,” Zelda congratulates him with a grin, “though, if we plan on traveling on foot to return to the palace we should be leaving soon. I suggest that you return to Ruta everyday to forge a bond with her. Mipha used to tell me about how much of a lovely companion she is, apparently she’s quite a good listener.”

Sidon is happy to hear the princess appraise him, and you have to agree with her, he’s gotten down the basics of controlling the Divine Beast very quickly. A natural learner, just like Mipha had been.

“So, we don’t want to travel using the Sheikah Slate this time?” you ask the three with a cheeky grin.

“No.” they all reply unanimously, causing you to laugh.

It doesn’t take very long for each of you to descend off of Ruta, because this time Sidon instructs her to kneel lower, meaning the platform off to her side is far closer to the ground. Bazz and Zelda climb down first, and you stay behind just long enough to hear the prince bid the Divine Beast goodbye.

“I’ll return soon. There’s much I have to learn from you,” he whispers, to no one other than himself and Ruta.

You smile at this, before using the rope to swing off and land swiftly on the plateau, Sidon following soon after.

Bazz leads the way back to Zora’s Domain, and the journey is uneventful, aside from the idle chatter between the group. Everytime you look towards Sidon, he seems lost in thought, contemplating something.

Once you reach the polished floor of the Great Zora Bridge, the sun’s light is fading away in the western horizon, mostly hidden behind the cliffs of the upperlands. At the end of the bridge you’re greeted by guards, and Bazz bids his farewell as he returns to his post as captain.

“I’m going to speak with my father and Muzu, I’ll see them alone,” Sidon announces, “I’ll return soon, please help yourself to the wares and dining of the palace in the meantime.”

Before he walks away he gives you both a smile, but it’s much more forced than his usual cheery grins.

“Something’s off with him,” you sigh as you watch him walk away, a frown tugging on your lips.

“Yes, I see it too,” Zelda replies, “though I do suppose you’re the best candidate to find out what exactly is wrong with the prince.”

You brow furrows, “why am I the best candidate?”

She gives you a pointed look, and you mutter a small ‘oh’ when you remember that the prince has practically begun courting you.

“Perhaps you can try speaking with him tonight? The two of us are set to leave in the morning to arrive in Gerudo desert in a week’s time,” she suggests.

‘Tomorrow morning? That’s so soon,’ you think to yourself.

“I will. I assume you’re going to return to the library?” you ask her, and in response she quickly nods.

“Yes, to do one last reading of my notes. I’m unsure if Urbosa had ever left behind any writing like Mipha had, so I’m hoping her experience with the trials and piloting can help us teach Chief Riju if she decides to pilot Naboris,” she explains.

“Alright, make sure to grab something to eat though, yea? Don’t need you starving yourself cause you’re so focused on reading” you tease her good-naturedly, to which she rolls her eyes.

“Of course. Should I expect to meet you in the bedchambers later tonight? Or will you be rendezvousing with the prince once more?” she replies, teasing you back.

You blush and stick your tongue out at her, “that’s yet to be seen. Go on, run along to your books. I’m gonna find something to eat.”

The princess takes her leave, heading down the stairs and into the lower floors of the palace. You cast a glance towards the upper floor where the throne room was, only to cast your eyes downward and lock eyes with the statue of Mipha in the square.

There weren't many Zora around. No doubt the younger ones have been called home by their parents, the shopkeepers were maintaining their stores, and the servants were doing their evening duties. You could only see guards posted around, so you took a deep breath before walking up to the statue.

‘She looks so peaceful,’ you think to yourself, examining the intricate carving work done to resemble the lost princess’ likeness, ‘at least you’ll always be remembered the way I saw you. Beautiful, collected, powerful’.

With a frown, your thoughts drift back to a certain prince. Sighing, you place your hands on the smoothed platform the statue was placed upon, hoping for guidance.

“Mipha… if you’re there. If you can hear me… Sidon needs help,” you whisper, looking up to her, “he’s still coping. It’s been so long without you and now he’s tasked with piloting Ruta. I met your spirit in Ruta. If there’s any way for you to speak with Sidon… please. I know he’s strong, but he needs to hear from you. He misses you, and I think he needs more guidance. I… I miss you too…”

You clench your fists and turn away from the statue. ‘I’m being ridiculous. She can’t hear me. I’m talking to air.’

You push all that aside and wander through the palace, eventually managing to get your hands on some dinner after speaking to a servant. You then find yourself sitting beside the water pools beneath the throne room. You’re alone in this area, aside from the occasional snail that’s made its home in the pools of fresh water. You’d discarded your boots when you arrived to dip your feet in the cool pools.

Casually, you take bites of your rice and bass dinner, thinking about the journey ahead. Already you’re mentally preparing for your trek through the Gerudo desert and the monsters you’ll have to fend off; electric Chuchus and Lizalfos, camps of Bokoblins, and Hylia forbid you come across a Molduga while escorting Zelda to Gerudo Town.

“Am I interrupting anything, little one?”

A smile quirks up on your lips at the sound of a familiar voice. Tilting your head back, you see Sidon stood a little ways away. You pat the floor beside you, “c’mon, sit with me. How’d things with your father go?”

The Zora prince walks over before seating himself besides you, dipping his legs into the pool you’re sitting in front of. “It went quite well. I explained how my first experience controlling the Divine Beast went, he was quite impressed. Though… I do have a qualm with my new station.”

Frowning, you set down your bowl and turn to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“I believe it’s an insecurity, but… something feels off about me piloting Ruta. I feel as though I’ve stolen something from Mipha, and I’ve been frequently comparing myself to her own talents as of late. I’m aware that I am not unskilled, and I’ve been raised from birth to protect and defend my domain and my people… yet I’m unsure if I’m deserving of such a position as pilot,” he murmurs, his yellow eyes skimming over the pool, watching the ripples in the water.

You look up at him with sad eyes, and scoot over to wrap your arms around one of his, leaning in to offer him some comfort. “Hmm… I understand how you feel,” you reply.

His brow furrows and he glances over to look down at you.

“I felt the same way when I was first designated to become Zelda’s knight,” you begin to explain, “ever since I was a child, I trained to be a guard for the royal family of Hyrule. My father was a guard, and so was his father, and his father, and so on. I wanted to be just like them, and I achieved that goal just as the first signs of the calamity were beginning. King Rhoam saw how I fought in the field, he thought me to be very skilled, and it didn’t take very long for me to rise through the ranks.

“When I was picked to become Zelda’s personal protection, though, I felt like something was wrong. Like I shouldn’t have been there, I shouldn’t have been selected for this. Not to mention, back then the relationship between the princess and I was far more tense. You were little, so I don’t think you remember, but it took a while for me and her to become friends.

“I thought, certainly, that I didn’t deserve that position. And I thought that other guards in my regiment were far more skilled than I. And then… I pulled the Master Sword from the ground in the Korok Forest. You would think that this would make me more sure of myself, more confident. The Goddess Hylia herself selected me to be the bearer of the sword, the sword that seals the darkness, I am a descendent of the swordbearers before me… it didn’t do that though. 

“I was even more unsure of myself after that. I thought, surely, it must’ve been some kind of mistake. Hylia picked the wrong person. I prayed and prayed for weeks, and yet the only thing that changed was I became stronger. It also strained the relationship between Zelda and I, because while she struggled to harness her divine powers I flourished before her eyes.”

You take in a deep breath before kicking the water with your foot. “Sorry, I’m rambling,” you sigh. “No no, go on,” the prince reassures you, his eyes full of sincerity. 

You can’t help but smile before continuing, “anyways, to sum up what I’m trying to say… I didn’t feel like I was in the right place either. Or if I was even deserving of the title of champion. But over time, I proved it to myself that I was exactly where I belonged. And you are too, even if you don’t see it yet. You’re going to be an amazing pilot, just like you’re already an amazing prince and amazing warrior and amazing friend.”

“Friend?” he repeats back, and you roll your eyes.

“Shush, you know I see you as more than a friend but we haven’t put a label on anything yet,” you retort, “besides, you’re avoiding the main point I made, don’t think I didn’t notice.” Sidon nods his head and smiles softly, lifting one of his hands to lace his fingers with yours. “I understand, little one. Thank you for the reassurance and encouragement… despite my regular demeanor, I do need the help from time to time,” he murmurs.

“I’ll be sure to compliment and encourage you every single day from now on,” you grin, “now c’mon, it’s getting late. Your father has asked me to protect you, so it’s my duty to assure that you return to your bedchambers safe and sound.”

The prince chuckles, “little Hylian, I can assure you that I’m more than capable of walking down the palace hallways to return to my room on my own.”

You slump your shoulders and stare up at him with a deadpan expression, “Sidon. I was making up an excuse to go back to your chambers tonight. Just go along with it.”

The Zora’s eyes go wide and he whispers a small “ohhhh” of realization.

“But of course! Please, valiant knight chosen by Hylia herself, escort me through these treacherous lands to the safety of my abode,” he practically exclaims, splaying a hand across his chest in dramatic fashion and tossing his head back.

“You’re such a drama queen,” you giggle, shaking the water off of your feet before standing up and grabbing your boots and the bowl you’d been eating from.

Side by side, you walk through the palace, in much happier spirits than before your conversation. You manage to return the bool to the kitchen staff and eventually wind up back in front of the prince’s chamber door.

He invites you in, and of course, you comply. Once inside his room you tug your boots back onto your now dry feet and wander over to the cushioned seats where you promptly collapse onto them, taking in a deep sigh of relief.

You watch curiously as Sidon removes his various accessories and adornments. It’s almost intimate, seeing the way his own hands glide across his body to slip off his silver cuffs and neckpiece, lifting off his sash to fold it and set it aside, and finally removing his plumed headpiece. 

When he turns around, he catches your eye and grins cheekily, “Is something the matter, little one?” “Nope, nothing at all, I’m simply enjoying the view,” you reply with a smirk.

He gives you a mischievous smile before walking over and settling in beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso.

“Isn’t it a bit scandalous to have so much physical affection before being properly courted?” you ask him with a laugh, running your fingers across his forearm. 

“Perhaps,” he murmurs, and you can feel his breath against your neck as he speaks, “but I do believe my status may allow me to get away with such a thing.”

“Ah yes, your immaculate status,” you laugh, sighing as you lean against him, “now… as much as I’d love to spend the night here again, I don’t know how smart of me it would be to do so.”

“Why’s that?” he asks curiously.

“Zelda and I are leaving in the morning,” you mumble, “heading to the desert to meet with the Gerudo about their new champion.” You feel the prince nod, “yes, I’d nearly forgotten about that. I… I don’t assume that you’ll be returning to the domain once your visit to the desert is complete?”

You can’t help but smile at the question. “Awh, are you gonna miss me, princey?” you reply teasingly, tilting your head back to look up at him.

A blue blush dusts his cheeks and he averts his eyes, “well, yes… are you not going to miss me as well while you’re gone?”

“Of course I am,” you reply with a whisper, lifting one of your hands to hold his face, “I’m gonna think of you every minute while I’m gone. I’ll see if I can manage visiting quickly once we’ve picked a Gerudo pilot, the princess is most likely going to want to move on to the next region… and I’m really her only protection right now, we have no royal knighthood anymore, and we likely won’t have one trained until after her coronation as queen. Wherever she goes, I have to be nearby.”

He nods, pressing his cheek against your palm, “I understand little one. Let’s just enjoy these last few hours together, yes?”

And enjoy them you do. You spend your final night in Zora’s domain in the arms of the prince, exchanging kisses and keeping one another warm. Eventually, you resign yourself to returning to your own bedchambers for the night, fearing if you stay any longer you may not want to leave in the morning.

You bid Sidon goodbye with a goodnight’s kiss before walking away from his room, and you can feel his gaze on you as you walk down the hall.

Once you return to the guest chambers you and Zelda were sharing, you slowly open the door to reveal and already-asleep princess in her bed. You smile at the sight and shut the door slowly, padding across the room as you begin to remove your Zora armor and set the Master Sword aside.

Removing the various pieces, you also decide to take off your tunic and trousers, momentarily standing in your undergarments before grabbing a clean robe and slipping it on, tying the rope around your waist loosely. A quiet yawn slips past your lips as you walk over to the bed, crawling beneath the covers and cozying up with the pillows. From your spot you can gaze out the window, and you can see glowing luminous rock deposits in the distance.

The soft blue lights lull you to sleep as you eventually shut your eyes, a certain Zora prince on your mind as fatigue takes over.

…

“... -___. _____. _____!” You grumble, turning over in bed as you hear your name getting called.

“_____, we must get going soon. Come on, wake up.”

When you’re finally able to force your eyes open, you’re greeted with the sight of Zelda standing at the end of your bed. She’s already dressed, aside from still needing to put her boots on and braid her hair.

“Alright, alright, I’m up,” you groan, pushing yourself to sit up and tugging the covers off.

As you walk around the room, grabbing your various pieces of clothing to get dressed as the princess explains the plan for the day: “The King has requested that the kitchen staff prepare us previsions for our travels, food and blankets and the like, which I’m very grateful for. I plan on us having left this mountainous area in the afternoon, and we’ll then be able to cross the wetlands and rest for the night at a stable. From that stable in the morning we’ll ride to Kakariko village and rest there tomorrow. Within a week’s time we’ll be in Gerudo Town, where I have a meeting with Chief Riju scheduled.”

You nod along as she explains, stripping off your robe and tugging on clean pants and a fresh tunic, lacing up your boots, and finally adorning the Zora armor and band that Sidon had gifted you.

“You know, we could just use the Sheikah Slate to travel-” you begin with a laugh, already knowing how Zelda will reply.

“_____, you know how I feel about traveling via the slate,” she sighs, “now then, let’s retrieve our horses.”

“Yes ma’am,” you reply jokingly, grabbing the Master Sword’s scabbard and securing it around your torso.

Following the princess through the palace, you eventually wind up in the small plaza area that houses the statue of Mipha, and are greeted by one very excited equine.

“Persephone!” you exclaim, greeting your horse happily, “how are you girl? Did you miss me? Did you and Storm get along?”

With a grin, you run your hand down her neck, giving her pats as she whinnies in response.

The palace servants had loaded the pack on her saddle with food and supplies for your journey, and the same appeared to be the case with Zelda’s horse.

“Well, are you ready to go?” the princess asks.

Biting the inside of her cheek, you give her a side glance, and she understands without you needing to say anything.

“You still need to say your goodbyes,” she smiles at you, “go on, go find him.”

Giving her a grin, you nod and hand her Peresephone’s reins before dashing away, running through the halls of the palace in search of the prince. 

“Sidon! Sidon?” you shout, sprinting through the corridors.

When you turn a corner, you don’t expect the solid mass you run into to be there. You yelp, stumbling backwards, only to be greeted by a concerned looking red Zora who catches you by wrapping an arm around your waist.

“_____-”

“Sidon-”

“I was looking for you-” you both say at the same time.

You both share a laugh, but when you meet his gaze there’s a subtle sadness in his eyes.

“I… you know why I came to find you,” you sigh, and he nods.

“Yes, I was searching for you for the same reason,” he replies.

“I hate saying goodbye,” you admit, “but… I will see you soon. As soon as I can. The next chance I get I will come running back to you, understand that? Hylia, I-... I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“Not a moment will go by where I’m not thinking of you, darling,” he murmurs, pulling you closer to him, “and every day that passes I will look forward to when I’m graced by your presence, to when I can hold you safely in my arms, to when I can feel your warmth and see your smile once more.”

“Even your goodbyes are more eloquent than anything I could muster up,” you groan, rolling your eyes with a giggle.

Confidently, you reach up to wrap an arm around his neck and tug him down closer to you, pressing a kiss against his lips.

This kiss is different from the ones you’d shared before. You meld together in a tender sensation, an unspoken longing behind the way you hold one another. The only reason you pull away is out of a need to return to the princess.

“I’ll… I’ll see you soon,” you repeat, looking into his eyes.

“And I anticipate your return to me, darling. Now go, be the wonderful Champion you were destined to be,” he smiles sadly, releasing his hold on your waist.

You don’t want to walk away, but you force your legs to move. You don’t turn back for one final glance because of the tears that threaten to spill, and you don’t want him to see you cry. You dash up the stairs back to the plaza, heart pounding in your chest. 

Wordlessly, you meet with the princess again, before mounting Persephone. Soothing your mount, you turn your gaze to the bridge and the mountains that lay beyond it.

All the guards and Zora both young and old wave to you and Zelda, bidding you goodbye and good luck on your journey. The princess flicks her reins and Storm begins to gallop away, and you instruct Persephone to follow closely behind.

As the two of you race down the bridge and away from the domain, you’re unaware of the yellow eyes that follow your figure from the upper levels of the palace. Unaware of the quiet farewell the prince whispers, preparing himself for your absence.

~~~ <> ~~~

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[aniimxses]

@devctiion || ( KAVEH )

Al Haitham,

It would figure you wouldn't show your face even around your own birthday! If I hadn't gleaned the day for myself, I would have thought you had never been born at all and were already fully formed since your conception as the most infuriating man alive.

I swore I wrote this date on my calendar somewhere, but I must have... accidentally burned that one between then and now, because there was no note to remind myself. And you sure didn't see fit to remind anyone yourself! I only even remembered by complete happenstance, so sorry if the end product is a little rushed, so you should feel grateful you're getting a gift from me at all at this rate.

Anyways... Happy birthday. This is for you. I hope you find this useful. Pick up your damn books for once______

The letter is hastily scrawled, Kaveh's handwriting only degenerating the longer it goes on, with certain phrases scratched out poorly, leaving them somewhat still legible to anyone whose vision isn't blurring from a two day engineering bender. The ink must not have even been dried yet when he fell asleep, because there's a long streak trailing off the last word, leading all the way to the quill resting in his limp grip.

Beside him is the gift he didn't have the opportunity to wrap yet: A book cart, but an unsurprisingly ornate one, considering Kaveh's predisposition for the aesthetic. It doesn't even have anything so mundane as wheels. That would be too primitive. No, this book cart is a Kshahrewar project, and so it floats just so above the ground, unimpeded by any potential obstacles on the floor and perfectly balanced to right itself if shoved one way or the other.

One can always trust the Great Kaveh to over-engineer the solution to even the smallest of problems.

Birthdays aren’t anything special to the Acting Grand Sage. Haitham comes home to find a suspiciously quiet house and decides to investigate, scouring each of the rooms for any sign of life. Presumably his roommate is in his own quarters, but Haitham thought he might at least like to know that there was some extra baklava from the batch that had been gifted to him.

Although, based on the quantity alone, it’s clear enough to the scribe that this was always intended to be a shared dish.

He supposes he’ll have to have Kaveh thank the Traveler later in his stead.

It’s only decent practice to knock, but Haitham pauses at the door when he sees that it’s slightly ajar already.

“Kaveh?” He calls out before pushing it open. Light spills into the hallway and he finds the architect slumped over his desk, a plush cheek resting against his own arm. It’s not unusual to find Kaveh asleep in this kind of position. It’d be far from the first time, at least.

Haitham walks over to at least turn off the lamp beside him when he spots the unfinished letter tucked underneath Kaveh’s arm. Immediately, he identifies his name scrawled onto the top and goes to carefully extract it.

Kaveh’s always been a heavy sleeper once he actually went to sleep. Haitham doesn’t react even as the blonde snuffles and shifts a bit. Instead, he focuses and perusing the contents of the letter. Honestly, it’s good that he has a lifetime of linguistic study and is familiar with Kaveh’s sleep-deprived chicken scratch, otherwise this would be completely illegible.

Once he finishes reading it, he looks over to the floating contraption beside the desk. Curiously he goes to push it, then presses his hand onto it to see how it tilts and re-aligns itself with its own center of gravity.

Haitham pockets the letter and then proceeds to cap Kaveh’s opened inkpot. He clicks his tongue in distaste and makes a note to get the man a new one, now that this one has dried out. He then plucks the quill from his roommate’s loose grip, setting it onto the desk properly before carefully treading over the clutter on the floor to grab the blanket on Kaveh’s bed. It’s draped over the exhausted man’s shoulders with careful deliberation. The scribe also does his roommate the favor of removing the remaining barrettes clinging on for dear life in that nest of hair.

Finally, he turns off the lamp, and after bringing his gift out from the room, he shuts the door with a soft click.

In the morning, Kaveh will find Haitham asleep in the living room with his birthday present beside him.

...Atop it is a plate full of baklava crumbs and an empty tea cup.

[olcoron]

What is in your character’s pockets or purse?

((This is a fun little prompt I found on IG, shout out to jada.thewriter for this prompt!))

Leiliana huffed as she stood beside Zack and Micha, searching endlessly through her satchel. Seeming looking through the abyss for something in particular. Zack frowned as she pulled out bread, fruit, biscuits, cookies, jerk meat, and even some hard candy that he had no idea where it came from. Then she pulled out a journal, pencil, leather strips and ribbons that she used to manage the mess of ginger locks that dominated her head. A satchel of coins, rings, a dagger, bracelets, earrings and her hair brush. He crossed his arms over one another as he shifted his weight.

“How all fit?!” He stammered as she seemingly dug out another book from her satchel. It didn’t even look that big. The young girl looked up and blinked. “Whot?” He pointed at the satchel. “Magic?” Leiliana huffed and shook her head. “No. Silly. Just a normal satchel.” She huffed as she still couldn’t find what she was looking for. “You gave me the charcoal last time. Maybe I have it.” Micha said as she put her satchel down on a table and started pulling out the items in hers.

First was the journal Zack gave her, a few pressed leaves from various plants fell out from the pages. The mysterious journal Zevryyn had given her as well as pencils of her own. Then was a small sack of seeds, a never ending ink well as well as blank scrolls, leather ties for them, mana potions, healing salves and even a healing potion. Zack put his hands on his hips as she too seemed to pull endless items out of this burlap sack.

A pocket knife, a glow stone, that had long ago lost its light, a fine quill and finally a hair brush. Various letters given to her from thankful strangers and finally a small sack of coins. Finally she produced a small box. She gave an elated ‘ah ha’ as she handed it to Zack. “How… that all fit?!” She looked up at him curiously. “I donno… it just does.”

“I feel like that’s just a girl thing…” Aiden said as he offered to show what was in his pockets. Crackers in a small sack, his two rats were pulled next, much to the disgust of Leiliana. Then he pulled out some string, an arrow head, coins that Zack had given him and lastly a very small scale from a wyvern. It genuinely made Micha frown as the boy didn’t seem to have much. “Okay then. Whot’s in your pockets, Zack?” Leiliana sassily said.

He frowned and clearly didn’t like this question. He looked between the three children, especially Micha. But reluctantly, as he shifted his weight he patted his left pocket to show it was empty, Then the right pocket he pulled out a single small sack. It was beautifully colored with reds, turquoise, blue, green and yellows. Hand woven with care and love, greatly weathered by time. It wasn’t his coins as he kept those under his shoulder plate. Nor did have medicine or seeds. By all intents and purposes it looked empty.

But the way he held it said it had great meaning to him. Carefully and tenderly, which for the seven foot tall barbarian was saying something. “Mother hair. Her horse hair.” All three kids looked at him somberly. His mother had died in childbirth and horses were deeply sacred to his people. So it made sense both were in the sack. Micha was the first to speak. “Your horse carries everything else. It makes sense you only carry what you need to.” He gave a curt nod and put it back. Pausing when he saw Leiliana’s glossy, tear filled eyes. “That’s so sweet.” She sniffled as she rushed to hug him. 

He grabbed her head and held her back, frowning deeply. “No. Stop hugging.” He said gruffly. 

[booksbeyondimagining]

Abounding Might (The Extraordinaries #3), by Melissa McShane

Publish Date: October 2, 2017 (repub: January 8, 2019) Published by: Curiosity Quills Press (repubbed by Night Harbor Publishing) Length: 363 pages Genre: Historical Fantasy My Rating: ★★★★☆ (4 out of 5 stars)

Synopsis:

Calcutta, 1813.

Lady Daphne St. Clair, who as an Extraordinary Bounder is capable of transporting herself anywhere in the world with a thought, has longed to serve in the Army for years. But an unexpected weakness at the sight of blood makes her responsible for a good man’s death in battle. Unable to serve on the battlefield, Daphne is sent to India to be transportation for the Governor-General’s wife and children. In disgrace, Daphne fears she will never achieve the fame and glory she has worked so hard for.

A chance encounter with Captain Phineas Fletcher, attached to the Honourable East India Company as a troubleshooter and investigator, leads to Daphne being given a new opportunity: help Captain Fletcher discover the truth behind a series of strange occurrences in the town of Madhyapatnam. Daphne is willing to do anything to restore her reputation, even something as small as Captain Fletcher’s investigation. As the days progress, her attachment to the members of the team grows deeper, as does her growing attraction to the captain.

But as Daphne and Captain Fletcher dig deeper into the mystery, the truth turns out to be much more sinister than anyone imagined. Dark currents run deep beneath the pleasant surface of Madhyapatnam, and the echoes of a twenty-year-old story threaten not only the Company’s rule over the town, but the safety and well-being of everyone in it. Soon only Daphne’s talent and courage stand between Madhyapatnam and the evil that threatens to overwhelm it.

My Review: 

This was a welcome return to an enjoyable read after that awful second book. I am so glad I read this one because it definitely satisfied my reading needs.

I loved Daphne - her personality, her drive, her conflicting desires - she was an excellent protagonist who has her flaws but strives to accept, and in some cases, overcome them. The storyline was invigorating and fun, although I wish there had been more about how the natives of India actually felt about the occupation by the East India Company, rather than how the British thought they felt about it. Understandably, this is written from the perspective of a British woman so she is going to be surrounded by people and ideas perpetuated in favor of the British point of view, but considering how Captain Fletcher supposedly learned so much about the culture...I think there could have been more. (EDIT: I just read the afterword and saw that the EIC thing was acknowledged there, but still think it could have been more incorporated into the book itself, with maybe even showing how the Talents affected things) I enjoyed the romance immensely, despite how quickly it transpired in terms of actual days, but since the situation was so intense, it felt like longer. I think they are well suited for one another but [SPOILER] I only wish that Daphne hadn't changed her mind about what she wanted for herself so completely. I feel like Fletcher could have been a character who would readily stand by her in her pursuit of fame, but instead she ended up pushing that aside in favor of being with him. I think she could have both and wish that she had made the choice to have both - a husband and a chance to advance her career however she might choose. The ending felt like a bit of a cop-out, with the potential for that to happen, but no real guarantee. [END SPOILER] I still like the world-building, although I realized in this book that not everything was taken into consideration with the Talents. For example, there was the mention of Christian saints being revered for "miracle" healings, and yet they have Extraordinary Healers who do just that? And then there is a thought I had about why women with Talent are required to serve in the military, but don't seem to be given any rank? I could easily go more into that but I won't right now. Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed this book - the story, the romance, and the characters all had me glued to the page. Much better than the second, although the first one still has a more special place in my heart. Looking forward to the next one in the series when it is released!

[pearlywritings]

If dad why hot?

synopsis: Dilf Kaeya. That’s it.

pairing: Kaeya x fem!reader, feat your daughter

tw: fluff, a little bit suggestive at the end, established relationship, people try to hit on your husband.

word count: 1.5k+ words

author’s note: Dilf Kaeya was sitting in my head for weeks now, I just want this man to have a daughter...

Dilf Kaeya who aged like a good wine both in looks and personality. The man many didn’t believe would ever start a family, yet here he is, happily married and with a child, a sweet princess with his blue jay hair and your pretty eyes. The girl, whom adores the whole Mondstadt from the common citizens to the knights at the Favonius headquarters.

Dilf Kaeya who often takes her with him to work whenever she misses him too strongly, and lets her roam the building with the promise she won’t bother busy people much. He is so proud when Lisa tells him his daughter helped her in the library or when Jean praises her for organizing some papers in her study. He himself is always happy if she decides to stay with him, climbing into his lap and curiously watching the quill in his hand moving across the papers.

Dilf Kaeya who carries her home in his arms if she falls asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, looking like an angel. Who carefully passes her body into your arms and watches you kiss her forehead, softly smiling and murmuring how hard she must’ve worked.

Dilf Kaeya who brings you closer into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist as you two quietly close the door to her bedroom. His lips touch your temple and you giggle at the affection turning to him and kissing him properly.

Dilf Kaeya who laughs embarrassed when you remind him of a story from the times your girl was but a baby and tried to latch onto his chest in search of milk. His chest did become bigger and wider as the years passed, adding to him being freaking hot, and becoming an object of your teasing jokes of him actually being the mom. He always argues, saying he’d never be a better mommy than you, starting a playful banter with you no matter where you can be.

Dilf Kaeya who draws attention to himself even more now, looking all ravishing and sexy as a grown man, though his own flirting has decreased considerably from the moment he married and started a family with you. However, there are suitors that still try to catch his eye and some can be really… persistent.

Dilf Kaeya, who finally has his horses back in stables and can take his princess out for the rides. Sometimes you join the two, but often you let them have father-daughter bonding moments. Kaeya is thrilled to have the alone time with her, especially after almost a week of being swarmed with paperwork and neverending patrols. Her small body is pressed firmly into dad’s chest and she keeps her hands on top of his arms as the man holds the horse’s reins. He can tell she is having great fun, turning her head from side to side.

Dilf Kaeya who gets concerned when she points to the left and says she sees hilichurls surrounding someone. His first instinct is to ride away to assure her safety, but he is a knight, he ought to help people. So, he leaves the horse hidden in the bushes and asks the girl to wait for him, to which she nods in understanding, promising to not move an inch from her position. He is so lucky, the Cavalry Captain thinks, as he smooches her cheek and rushes to help whoever is in trouble.

Dilf Kaeya who gets hit on the moment the young woman is saved. The man smiles through her blubbering of ‘thank you’s and ‘you are my hero’s, not batting an eye at her attempts to flirt with him. He literally offered her a hand, the one with the wedding ring on it, to help stand up, clearly it should be enough to show he is taken.

Dilf Kaeya who again and again tells the woman he is not interested, as he turns around and tries to walk off and back to his daughter, ignoring the offers of the woman’s company who is following him all the way back to the place where he left the horse and the girl.

“Daddy, is that a woman you saved?” she asks curiously, playing with the braid you made her in the morning. Kaeya gives her a loving smile, brushing his own thicker and longer braid over his shoulder. The man loves matching with her.

“Yes, my lily, and she is leaving already. Wanna go home to mommy?”

The girl hums, brushing her fingers through the stallion’s mane, pondering his offer over.

“I want to, but can we ride for a little bit longer?”

“Of cour-”

“Oh, that’s great! She can go and have fun, while we have ours!” Kaeya almost forgot about the other human’s presence, that is until she wraps her arms around his and squeezes it to her chest.

Dilf Kaeya whose eye turns icy cold as he glances to the side, piercing the stunned woman with a glare. What? Does she really believe he’ll take her offer and decieve you? The woman who accepts his past and his imperfections, the woman to whom he willingly gave his heart and received her in return, the woman who loves him to the point of accepting his marriage proposal and having a cute little girl? And all of that just to hook with someone he barely knows? Does she think he is an idiot? No one has ever been this bold and something inside the ever patient and collected man snaps. He is annoyed now.

“Lady, I tell you once again, I am not interested. And please, be appropriate, my child is right here.”

His voice is very calm but alarmingly chilly, the touch is firm and freezing when he pries her from around him and grabs the horse’s reins, ready to leave.

"The fact my wife isn't present doesn't mean you have a chance and right to hit on me. This," he lifts his hand and shows his ring "is here not for fancy, it has purpose. Now, since I can clearly see you have no other issues, we'll excuse ourselves. Goodbye.”

Dilf Kaeya who doesn't pay much attention to the situation, only glancing at you the moment your daughter mentions the strange encounter in her description of the walk. Busy with tending to her, brushing her hair and listening to her stories curiously, you only hum and say that her daddy is a real hero and that you are very proud of him. No further questions, comments or worries.

Dilf Kaeya who kisses you deeply, silencing your sinful moans which he himself is drilling out of you with his cock. It's the dead of the night, he can allow himself to relax, holding your trembling body in his embrace. Kaeya is aware there are people who could think of him being unfaithful, but he is also aware they are dead wrong. He knows you know he is devoted to you and only you in the sense of heart, body, mind and soul, however damned they can appear to be.

Dilf Kaeya, who takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it, not halting the thrusting of his hips for a moment. Smooth lips brush over your lovely fingers in a soft murmur.

"Thank you for trusting me, love."

To which you breathlessly chuckle, giving his hand a squeeze and bringing the other to cup his check.

"You've been nothing but loyal to me, Kaeya. Of course I do trust you. I married an amazing man after all."

Amazing, huh? Hearing your speak so fondly of him and gazing at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes, he knows, it'll be okay. You always call him brilliant, smart, beautiful, lovely, handsome, sexy, witty, sometimes crazy, pouty, irresponsible, silly, in recent years you even picked up after Lisa and started to call him a dilf in a teasing manner, and honestly, your words are the only opinion he takes and considers in regards to your relationship. He knows you know he is all of the things you name him and you equally adore each part of him and he feels the same about you.

Dilf Kaeya whose fingers intertwine with yours in a comforting manner, whose lips meld with yours in a passionate dance, whose body presses incredibly close to yours in the deepest form of intimacy. There is no way he’d ever abandon what he has with you, you give him too many things to treasure, the greatest ones wrapping around your ring fingers in the form of golden bands and one more soundly sleeping in her own room.

Dilf Kaeya is the man who has always been desirable in the eyes of others. He is aware that many people find him alluring now specifically because they view him as a sexy dad. Does he care about having the appeal of being a hot parent? Not really, but it does become irritating when people get too handsy. After all, he is reserved only for his wife and daughter and for you two he does care.

[phoebe-delia]

Click

I’m having Drarry feelings right now and this happened.

It was a pen, of all things, that changed everything.

Draco was still getting used to them. He missed the tickle of a feather against the back of his hand, the way the thin tool slotted elegantly into the cradle between his thumb and pointer finger. The pen didn’t feel quite as secure as a quill, but Draco had to admit—there was nothing so satisfying and distracting as clicking the pen just to see the point stick out and retract over and over.

But in his experiments with the device, Draco accidentally felt the pen fumble from his fingers and fall, as if in slow motion, onto the ground next to his desk.

He glanced up at Professor Binns, who was still blessedly rambling and unaware of the incident. A curious student or two had turned their heads toward the noise but seemed to have returned to pretending to take notes.

Draco sighed and bent to pick it up, when a hand brushed his, snatching the pen from right beneath his fingertips.

Draco frowned. “What—“ the words died on his tongue at the sight of Harry Potter blinking at Draco’s pen in his hand.

“This yours Malfoy? I didn’t know you knew what pens were.” Potter finally looked at Draco curiously.

Draco blushed. “I, er. I’m…trying new things.”

Potter’s lips quirked up at the corner. “And you’ve started with pens?”

“The were on the school supply list for Muggle Studies, and I—”

“You don’t have to explain!” Potter interjected. “It’s fine. Sort of…charming, actually.”

Draco gaped, then laughed in slight shock. “I suppose. Though I can only use it if it’s in my possession. So, if you don’t mind?” He held out a hand expectantly.

Potter flushed and pressed the pen into Draco’s palm. The plastic was warm from Potter’s touch.

“Listen,” Potter cleared his throat. “I’ve got some, er, Muggle coloring markers and crayons in my dorm. If you, y’know, want to try out other writing utensils…” Potter flushed a deep red.

“I’d like that,” Draco squeezed the pen tightly in his fist, trying to contain his nervous joy.

Potter grinned. “Great! It’s a date! Swing by my dorm after dinner?” At Draco’s nod, Potter walked back to his own desk.

Draco tried to steady his breathing.

Great! It’s a date!

The pen snapped.

[witch-hazels-musings]

endlessly inspired

warnings: SFW, birthday celebration themed (some kissing)

Diluc x author!reader | anthology 

There was something so perfect about this place. The feel of it, the smell of it, the way it perked you up the moment you opened your eyes. You stretched and the whole world awoke to you just as you smiled at it. Forget where you were before this - now you had found a home, a place to call your own, and in it was the one person you loved most of all. 

Diluc

There was an invisible force pulling you down the hallway. A distant call to your heart, one your head couldn’t hear but you didn’t pay the siren any mind. Instead, you adjusted the clothes nestled comfortably around you and let your eyes scan the features that lined the corridor. 

Small tables decorated with well tended plants, a painted landscape ornately framed to outline it’s creation, to highlight a simple color most people wouldn’t have noticed in the first place. On some, a book was left, one you placed there the night before as you tiredly made your way to the bedroom just down the hall. It seemed the maids finally accepted you would be leaving bits and pieces of yourself all around the winery. A out of place book here, a half-filled notebook there, a vase of freshly picked flowers flooded in the light near the ‘best windows,’ as you called them. You had made a name for yourself here, had taken ownership of the corners that were once so lifeless. 

You might not have realized it, but your presence rejuvenated the Dawn Winery and made the once lonely building feel like a home. 

Absentmindedly, you scooped the book into your hands and continued down the hallway until stopping just before a doorway. It was open, the sound of shuffling paper and creaking wood could be heard just inside but it was the sight that drew your attention. The type of image that would flip your stomach and pull the corner of your lips into a instinctual smile. Gripping the book in your hands, you leaned against the doorframe and watched as the man of your dreams worked. 

Diluc was sitting on the couch near the back of the room. His head bent down as he looked over the letters he’d received the day before. It wasn’t unlike him to be delayed in his responses as the days often kept him trapped outside and the nights pressed a dutiful pressure on his already heavy shoulders. His hair, which normally would have been tied back, was falling over his shoulders heavily. He must have recently taken a shower because you noticed the glistening reflection of water clinging to his fly-aways. Diluc’s ankle rested over his knee and he shifted to rest his no-doubt tired back against the cushions. You watched as he closed his eyes, sighed, and placed the parchment on his right hand side before reaching for another letter. 

“Already so hard at work?” You called out to him as you placed the book on the desk covered in attention seeking papers. Your fingers grazed the documents before glancing back to Diluc. 

He looked at you curiously, a bit confused, and finally shared his thoughts with you, “You’re up? I thought you were going to sleep in?” 

“I did. It’s nearly 9.” Gesturing at the large clock nestled between the bookshelves, you made your way to the refreshment tray and began to pour a cup of delicious smelling coffee. The aroma filled your nose and you swore no one knew how to make coffee as perfect as Hillie. 

“Already?” 

“Yes.” You chuckled as you crossed the study to place the cup near him. Even the small table meant for drinks and the like was covered with half-opened letters and quills. “How long have you been in here?” You asked as you moved the items off table so the cup could rest there instead. 

“Mmm, sometime. I still have things to attend to.” He mumbled and when you looked at him his attention was already back to the letter. You could tell by the way he furrowed his brows that it was a rather difficult one that was sure to cause him irritation if he continued reading it. 

Carefully, you stacked all the documents together before carrying them to his desk and while he continued on his mission of reviewing the correspondence that never ended, you cleaned up his area. When it was a bit more manageable, you made your way back to him but he didn’t look up. Leaning forward, hands resting on your knees, you positioned yourself until you were at eye level but realized it would be a challenge for him to see you with parchment blocking his view. So, with a quick puff of air, just enough to tussle the letter, you smiled gleefully at him when he pulled it away. 

“Hello, handsome.” You grinned, giggled, and grew warm as he stared at you. 

“Hello, gorgeous.” He replied with a gentle smile all his own. As if nothing else mattered, he let the letter fall to his side and replaced it with your hand. His fingers reached out for you as you took several steps forward until your arms draped over his shoulders and the back of the couch, in this position your face was as close to his as it could be. 

Diluc held your hips, his legs spreading wider so you could rest your knee on the cushion. It was so easy to rest your forehead against him, to take him in, breathe in the smell of him, the warmth of him, the sound of his chuckle as you hummed in pleased comfort. “Can I steal a moment of your time?” You asked as your lips touched the tip of his nose. 

“I should be able to accommodate that.” Diluc mused as his head turned slightly so he could kiss your lips in his tender way and catch you against his chest when you melted against him. The pull of him was so intense you swore each time you touched his lips a new star was born. Each one a promise to protect him, to keep him safe. It seemed, in your mind, that if a new one was created with every act of your love for him - he’d never stand in harms way. “Ah.” He began as your legs grow weaker when he kissed your cheek and jaw. “There is actually something I’d like your feedback on.” 

“Oh?” You replied, but in a half-daze. It was so hard to focus when his touch made you feel this good. 

He adjusted and you reluctantly lifted yourself off him. Of course, he had to help because your legs were a bit tingly and your heart was beating so fast your head swam in fuzzy warmth. He left you to sway but only for a moment and when he returned you could see something tucked under his opposite arm. “Hold on to me.” He whispered and placed a lingering kiss to your temple. You adored when he peppered you in affection like this; nothing compared to the feeling of his lips against the edge of your eyes - a display of admiration, appreciation, true love. That’s what it felt like every time he touched you. 

You did as he said, arm coiling around his as you followed along side him and when you reached the door he asked you to close your eyes. It was easy to do since you trusted him so much. The world went dark but you clung to the warmth at your side, felt his hand touch yours and you knew there wasn’t anything to be worried about. 

The darkness of the hallway slipped away as the heat of sunlight hit your face. There was a distinct smell drifting around you but impossible to place without seeing it. Something lovely, sweet, honey-like and, as you stepped further into it’s fragrance, you sensed how close you were to the stairs. You prepared yourself to walk down them blindly and the reaction caused Diluc to laugh softly at your side. “Open your eyes.” 

When you gazed out over the balcony, you couldn’t stop your hands as they flew to your mouth. The winery had changed! Incredible decorations lined the walls and banisters. Woven vines of lush greenery and small, delicate flowers spread between each green leaf. You leaned forward and he let you but seemed reluctant to let you slip away from him. Below, you saw a table filled with your favorite food, drinks of all sorts, and small boxes wrapped in lovely paper. In the middle of the table was a cake and in an instant you turned to face Diluc who held a hopeful smile. 

“Happy Birthday.” He hummed and you found a way to steal your arm back just so you could wrap them around his neck. 

“I-It’s-You didn’t have to do this.” You explained through an emotional throat and increased your hold on him. 

“Of course I did.” He held you for a moment before ruffling your hair, his gaze locked on you as you pulled away from him. 

“But - how did you do this? I was only in the study for like ... thirty minutes.” 

“We prepared last night.” He explained and you flashed him a look of confusion. Chuckling, he continued, “I knew you’d come find me first, glad to see I was correct.” The expression on your face brought him more joy than you could have ever anticipated, even if it made you wildly embarrassed. I guess you really were predictable when it came to him. “There are more gifts for you, and you’ll be receiving guests in the afternoon-” 

You interrupted him with a gleeful shout of several names of possibility and he nodded. There was a thrill in your body and you turned to dash back down the hall as if changing the clothes was the best response to this information but before you could go, his hand caught your wrist and kept you steady. 

“One moment, I have something for you.” He pulled something from under his arm and you took a step back to receive the gift. It was a small thing wrapped in paper and bound by a dark red ribbon. It was shaped like a book and you wondered what story he could have found that you hadn’t already consumed. 

Flashing him a look, you pulled at the silk binding and he took it from you so you could peel back the paper. When you saw the hardcover binding peek through the brown wrapping, you couldn’t help but notice the flash of gold decorating the edges. Whatever it was must have been rather precious to be decorated so beautifully. 

On the front you saw it didn’t have a title and instead, in gold inlay, your name was presented directly in the middle. Curiously, you let your fingers run over the engraving as you looked to Diluc. “Open it.” He said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

You did, and found yourself turning through the first set of pages only to find something familiar on each one. These were your works, your creations on every single page, on pages and pages; the hours you spent cooped up in the study, the days you drowned in work were now pressed into print before you and you suddenly found it necessary to hide your trembling lips. “Is ... is this.” 

“This past year I have watched you work diligently and while I wasn’t always around to admire it, my pride in your accomplishments never waivered. These -” He said with a soft tone, his long fingers resting on the pages inside the book, “are my favorites and they deserve to be on the shelf next to those you admire.” 

Your eyes stung, you rubbed your fingers over your lip as you pursed them together until, without fail, you pushed away the first of many tears. “Y-you ... You made me a book?” 

“No,” He began, and you felt his hand against your arm. “you made this, I just added a few finishing touches.” The tears in your eyes welled up as they spilled over. No one, in all your life, had every cheered for you the way he did. No one had taken the time to invest in you the way he did, and now he had bound together hours, days, months of work into something you never thought you’d see: a bound collection of your accomplishments. “Oh, um.” He cleared his throat and tapped the pages, “there is something I wrote on the final page ... if - if you wanted-” 

You didn’t wait, even through blurry eyes you practically tossed the wrapping onto the floor as you flipped to the final page and there, just as he mentioned, was something written just for you. You pushed away the tears but could tell it was his handwriting, you sniffled but knew it wouldn’t matter, you let your hand rest on the fluttering pages but that wasn’t what made it difficult to read. 

The words filled your heart and you soaked them in. 

“My beloved,

I have written countless letters yet I find this one the most difficult to transcribe. You would laugh at me to know how many renditions I’ve gone through to get the words right. As it seems, I am not as talented at this as you are.

It has been enlivening to watch you over this last year. To see your elation, your drive, and dedication and, while I know not every day has been the best, the motivation I’ve received by watching you return and try again has been endless. I strive to be someone worthy of you; someone who can stand at your side for all the days left in this world. 

What you hold in your hands is a culmination of your efforts. These pieces are parts of you. May you see them as incredibly as I do. My only hope is it inspires you to keep going and, one day, when you are ready, I will be there to watch as your creations bring a smile to others as much as they do mine. 

Each and every day, I find myself inspired by you. 

With love, your biggest fan, Diluc --”

Biting the inside of your lip, you let the book close, gazing one last time at the name engraved on the front until you pressed it against your chest in the hope that it would combine with the heart that felt so full it could burst. 

“This is the - the best,” You shook your head and fought the emotions in your throat,” the best gift I’ve ever --” 

Diluc smiled and even through your watery eyes you saw how he gazed at you with a fondness, a proudness that pained your chest in the best possible way. “This day and all the days of our life, I believe in you.” You nodded and shielded your face with the auburn covered book while your one true love wrapped you in his arms and wished you the first of many, happy birthdays. 

[bitchapalooza]

So I wrote a short thing at work today. Enjoy. I barely edited this, it's midnight, I for one accept any and all errors with open arms.

Professor Edward Laventon never asked for much growing up. A poor farmers' son, both by his birth parents and adopted parents. A fate of his, it seemed. He wore clothes adjusted to his size or hand-me-downs from family friends. He ate what he grew and he liked it or else he be labeled ungrateful and rude— or worse, starved. His families never had much truthfully. And Laventon was content with that. He was happy. He didn't mind one bit.

Until he met Cyllene.

He was still happy, yes. In fact, he was delighted. When he walked off that boat and first laid eyes on her, he felt a flutter in his chest. Like Butterfree dancing about in his chest cavity. It was something he'd never felt before, not from any of his previous partners. This was a first. And from then on, when he'd see his superior officer, the same sensation would occur.

For a year he couldn't figure it out, until one day, one cool morning in the fall of Hisui, it hit him. Cyllene sat talking to Ginter, curiously inspecting his new stock of mysterious wares. The sunlight beaming down on her face, making her shine, making her look so... Angelic.

Her beauty glowed. It melted the ever cold professor to a measly little puddle.

He couldn't figure it out. Why his feelings finally made obvious after so long. But regardless of why and when, Laventon couldn't bare keeping it to himself any longer. So he asked her to an evening meal.

It was... uncomfortable. Cyllene, he knew, wasn't a fan of eating in front of people. Yet she accepted his offer anyway. He hadnt thought properly. Laventon couldn't help but feel horrible for that, so he cut the public meal short, asking her where she would much prefer going.

So he took her to the shore.

The next evening, he took her again.

And the next.

And many, many more after that.

They shared their first kiss on that beach shore. The two no longer shivering in the chilly fall air, desperately pressed closed together in the moonlight, basking in each others warmth.

Before he knew it, Cyllene would link her arm with his as they walked through the village. He would walk her home and miss her at the door. The subtle flirting in the office. Her soft smile. She would call him her beau, she his sweetheart— and it made his heart soar.

Laventon doesn't require much to live or be happy. He isn't rich and doesn't wish to be. His office isnt big by no means, but its big enough for him. He doesnt need a thing.

Or does he? He wonders as he rolls the golden, dawn stone decorated band between his fingers. He sat at his kotatsu, pondering. Waiting. Cyllene had paperwork to deliver to the Commander. It was such a clear night, they thought it would be nice to take a midnight stroll.

And they were right. It was such a lovely night.

The waves gently hit the dock. Breeze gently tossling their hair, Laventon's hate off for once. The air was salty. Like home to Cyllene. It's why she loves it here. Her favorite spot in the entire region.

Cyllene stares up at the night sky, naming what constellations she knew. Laventon watched her dimples form every time she smiled. She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, a habit he's noticed they share.

Laventon felt a tug on his heart. A feeling of longing.

He wanted this every night. Every day. He wanted to be the reason she smiled, the reason she laughed. He wanted to wake up next to her every single morning, even if it's because hes freezing cold, Cyllene having stolen the whole blanket off of him during the night. He didn't care when she stole food off his plate, he would gladly trade anything in the world for that to keep happening. How she took his shirts and used them as a gown after a night together. Nagged him for slouching. Applied medicine to his newest cuts and scrapes. Trailing fingers through his hair, across his chest. The odd way she held a quill. The specific way she folds her clothes. The half hour it takes to style her hair the way she likes it.

This poor farmer's boy knows what he wants now. What to ask for. His only request.

With a low groan in the back of his throat and pained pop in his knees, Laventon knelt down in the sand.

[lonely-lost-soul]

Of Immortality and Nymphs

(Philza Minecraft x Reader)

Request 2: Just c!philza simping over reader!!

Requested by: Anonymous 

(Okay maybe I got a little carried away with this one...) 

~~~

     He met her for the first time when he was a young man, who barely understood the world around him. Messing with things he shouldn’t was his specialty so when he heard there used to be Nymphs in the nearby forests, he just had to find out if they were extinct or not. Phil flipped through his worn journal and tapped his quill on the paper, he wanted to document his journey to finding the supposedly mythical creature. After all, this was one of his first real adventures all by himself he wouldn’t accept any form of defeat. He popped the cork off the invisibility potion he had and downed it with one swig. Phil, now hidden, wandered into the forest of the last known location, of the last recorded Nymph. Not being visible to the creatures in the forest allowed Phil to take in the beauty of nature around him, he could get close to the animals and see them in their natural habitat. The forest was beautiful, sunlight peeking in through the leaves of the trees, it was magical. He placed his hand on the trees running his hand over the bark with a smile, Phil heard a soft twinkling in his ear, and his head shot up. Always trigger happy he put his hand on his sword, in the middle of a nearby clearing stood a beautiful woman with gorgeous (h/c) hair. Flowers and leaves seemed to be interwoven within the strands, her ears were elf-like in appearance adorned with gold piercings. Her dress flowed in the wind, it was a soft almost translucent green decorated with leaves, in her hand was a baby chick. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, it was clear she was the Nymph that the old stories were talking about, thank god for the invisibility potion. 

Pulling out his journal once more he began to sketch a picture of the elegant woman, he didn’t want to forget her face. The man looked up once more to finish up the sketch and the Nymph was gone, he frowned sadly, he did hope he could get to talk to her. 

     “What’re you drawing?” Phil snapped his notebook shut letting out a startled yelp, he turned to look at the figure beside him. The potion must’ve worn off when he wasn’t looking, however beside him was said Nymph. His jaw almost dropped open, did she have no self-preservation? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” She stepped a few steps back and he held out his arm to stop her. 

     “No! No, you’re alright!” He put his hand to his heart, “I’m Phil. and you are?” 

     “(Y/n). Are you human?” 

     “Tragically,” Phil gave her a little smile as she tilted her head curiously. “Are you a Nymph?” You looked a little hesitant, he watched as your ears twitched in an undeniably cute way. He felt himself melt a little as you gave a nod, 

     “A Meliae if you want to get specific,” you smiled fondly giving him a teasing wink. Opening his notebook again he scribbled that down next to the figure drawing of you, you sat down in front of him watching in awe, “Is that your language’s written system?” Looking back up at her curious expression Phil once again felt his heartbeat speed up in his chest. 

     “It is. You’re very clever,” He hummed and was delighted in the way you flushed up to the tips of your ears. You waved him off, 

     “I’m not that clever. When you’ve been around as long as I have you pick up on certain things,” He watched you carefully as you sat down beside him resting on your knees. Curiously Phil tilted his head,

     “How long have you been around?”

     “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?” She shot back a grin on her features, oh Phil was in love. Nymphs did tend to have that effect on people, people fall hard and fast for them, but Phil didn’t care. 

     “My apologies, that was rude of me huh?”

     “Very.” She teased with a snicker, “I’ve honestly lost count at this point.” 

     “You’ve lost track? So you’re immortal then?” Phil’s entire face lit up the excitement prevalent on his features, “Tell me everything.” He pleaded, with a soft laugh you began to share your tale with the man in front of you. Phil was enamored she had lived more lifetimes than he could begin to comprehend, what he wouldn’t do to have that gift. The duo talked long into the evening and well into the next morning, Phil knew he had to head home soon. Not that he had anyone waiting for him back home, but he couldn’t stay with her forever as much as he wanted to. “When can I see you again?” He whispered taking your hands within his own, he couldn’t help but notice how soft they were for someone living in a forest. You hesitantly pressed your finger to his earring, 

     “They’ll start to glow whenever I’m near. So you can always find me,” You whispered cupping his cheek in your hand, he felt himself lean into it. “I’ll see you soon Phil,” You leaned forward pressing a tender kiss to his lips before disappearing in a flurry of flowers and leaves. Phil let out a shaky breath bringing his fingers to his lips a wild smile appearing across them. He opened his journal one last time adding ‘great kissers’ to his list of things about the Nymph of the forest. 

They met many more times after that, and with each meeting, Phil only fell more and more in love with her. He wanted to protect you and keep you safe especially after telling him that Nymphs were hunted for their tears that give immortality but now without the expense of the Nymph. Yet even with his pleading, you wouldn’t leave the forest you called home. You told him maybe one day you could, but you were the only Nymph protecting the forest and you had to stay to protect your home. Ever the gentleman Phil would drop the conversation and steer it into another direction said direction ended with a lot of kissing. 

As the years flew by Phil found himself growing older and you remaining the same and as beautiful as ever, he wanted to be immortal with you. He never wanted to lose you, so he made a deal with the God of undying, sacrificing his three lives for one immortal life so he could remain by your side forever. He’d also have to give up part of his humanity, he was bestowed giant black crow-like wings. But he’d do anything so long as he got to be by your side for the rest of eternity. Phil didn’t want to tell you at first, afraid you’d be mad but it was hard to hide giant black wings and the man could never stay far away from you. When he finally saw you again you knew what went down practically immediately. Surprisingly you took it much better than he originally thought, you seemed to flattered beyond belief but also pissed as hell. Desperately you tried to explain to him that immortality wasn’t a gift but a curse, seeing the world change around you while you stay young forever wasn’t as fun as it sounded. The man scoffed, shooting back a comment of his own about how he didn’t want to imagine a world without you by his side. You didn’t deserve to lose someone you loved just because they were mortal and he stood by that.

He watched your face scrunch up, cheeks turning pink at his sentiment. Mostly because you were melting around his words and he knew it too by the smirk evident on his features. Phil locked eyes with you and smiled endearingly, 

     “I love you.” 

     “I’m pregnant.” 

     “Fucking what-” He choked on his spit any argument that started before fizzled out the minute you had told you said those two words to him. He felt his features morphed in surprise before wrapping you in a tight suffocating hug. That only solidified his choices, he made the right decision, he needed to stay by you and your child’s side so long as the universe allowed him to. 

However, things weren’t all peaches and rainbows as the world changed to a dark and dismal place once more. Forests were being burned and destroyed and humans once again discovered the existence of Nymphs and wanted to hunt them down for sport. Things were dangerous, way too dangerous for you and the newborn son you shared with Phil. Reluctantly you and Phil came to a decision, to protect your baby you needed to leave, it was the only way to keep them safe. You held the baby close to your chest, tears swelling in your eyes as Phil kissed your cheeks trying to shush you softly. “It’s alright…” His voice was gentle, his big hand caressing the boy’s chocolate brown curls. 

     “It’s not alright. Phil...I don’t wanna leave you or Wilbur.” Your voice quivered and Phil’s heart shattered in pieces, “But his safety comes first.” You brought the baby up to your lips and kissed his forehead, he giggled sweetly trying to squish his mother’s cheeks. You laughed as he did so, “My sweet, lovely boy. I’ll have to leave you for a while, I don’t want to but you need to be kept safe. I…” Phil frowned watching as you choked up once more, “I’m not safe.” Even through your tears, Phil thought you were beautiful, “You can’t tell him about me…” 

     “(Y/n) I can’t- That’s just not fair-” You shushed him with a kiss to his lips, passing Wilbur off to him. 

     “If he’s anything like his father he’ll lose his mind searching for his mother. He needs to live his life.” You reached up holding Phil’s chin on your pointer finger, “He has to live life to its fullest, Nothing can hold him back. It has to stay this way until I can come back. Which I will...hopefully it won’t be too long.” You smiled up at him and Phil took in a shaky breath, 

     “What if I ruin him.” His voice was painfully tight holding his grip on Wilbur tightening as well, it made the baby squirm. You shushed him softly, pressing a kiss to his lips, his scruff tickling your chin. To him the kisses always felt electric, never devoid of passion and adoration, he leaned forward to chase those addicting lips as you pulled away. 

     “You won’t ruin him, you’re the most gentle and kind man I’ve ever met. You took care of me all these years, you’ll be amazing for Wilby.” Phil watched as you kissed Wilbur one last time before stepping away with a shaky breath. “Just be as good to him as you are to me,” You both heard the crunch of leaves, it caused you to jump a little looking around the forest frantically. 

     “Go. We’ll be fine. Just stay safe and come back to us okay?” You could only nod at him before disappearing in a gust of leaves and flowers. Phil felt his heartache and he jolted as Wilbur began to cry seemingly already missing the presence of his mother. “Oh Wilbur hush, hush for me please,” His father pleaded as he began to rock him gently this was going to be a lot harder than he would ever anticipate, but to keep you safe he’d give up the entire world. 

~~~

Decades went by, Phil had not only Wilbur to watch over but three more idiotic kids, others adopted of course. Wilbur had grown up into a strapping young man, got married, and had a son, you would be so proud of him. You’d spoil Fundy rotten, he just knew you would, he was sure you’d also spoil Tommy and Tubbo. Not to mention you’d force your motherly affection all over Technoblade and he wouldn’t have a choice but to open up to you. 

However, none of them even knew you existed, lies were told about who Wilbur’s mother was when any of them asked and it killed him on the inside to lie about you. Eventually, Wilbur just stopped asking, most likely assuming something bad happened that Phil never wanted to discuss with him. Something far too painful to even tell his son about,

 Which was half right he supposed. 

It started like any other day, Tommy and Wilbur were messing around with Dream, something about discs and war that Phil didn’t particularly care about. Wilbur had come over once again to plead with Phil for aid in the war, but once again he refused him. This time he even brought Fundy along thinking that seeing his grandson might change the older man’s mind. However, he still refused knowing it wasn’t going to end well in the long run even if Wilbur did win. Sometimes kids had to make their own mistakes to learn about the future. It’s not like he hadn’t told Wil it wouldn’t end well, he did multiple times, but the kid was just as stubborn as he was and wasn’t going to back down. 

“Dad, please. If you’d just join in we’d slay Dream and his team, all the fighting will come to an end. The nation I’m trying to create would finally be free and safe. Just help me.” Wilbur pleaded, a small whine slipping into his voice as he followed Phil and his son into the forest, “We can establish our new nation and be free from tyranny. No more war, isn’t that what you keep advocating for?” Wilbur continued to rant, not helping at all with his chores, his voice grew soft suddenly, and Fundy grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket. 

     “What is it, kid?”

     “Your earring’s glowing pops.” Fundy pointed to his ear and Phil froze in place the wood that he collected falling out of his hands, scattering all over the forest floor.

     “Dad?” Wilbur repeated his voice growing louder in concern, Phil looked around the clearing frantically before bolting in a random direction. 

     “Grandpa!?” Fundy yelled chasing off after him, his tail puffing up anxiously, 

     “Fundy don’t just run off!” 

Phil didn’t stick around to hear them, you were around here somewhere the question was where. His heart was beating erratically in his chest, please, please god let him find you. He didn’t have to wait long, he’d recognize you anywhere you still looked the same. Standing in the middle of a flower field you looked over your shoulder, “(Y/n)! Darling!” He called out choking a little on his words, your (e/c) eyes blew wide and he heard you laugh. You ran up to him flowers growing in your wake, you launched himself at the man and he lifted you in his arms. He spun you around laughing in disbelief, using his wings you both floated in the air, he cradled the back of your head with his hand, “I can’t believe you’re here.” Phil whispered, pulling away to cup your cheeks with your hands, “you’re real.”

     “Of course I’m here silly goose. I told you I’d come back didn’t I?” You laughed fondly as he began to pepper your face in kisses, “Even if it is way later than I intended…” You trailed off with a small wince, 

     “Who cares. You’re here now and you’re safe.” He landed a kiss on your lips as you kissed him back. You tasted just as he remembered like fresh air and oranges, he wanted to swallow you whole. He never wanted to let you go again, and he never would if he had a say in the matter. 

      “Dad? What the fuck?” Wilbur blurted as Fundy and he came upon the clearing, you pulled away from Phil. Tears filling your eyes, your hands coming up to cover your mouth, Phil rested a hand on the small of your back. 

     “Wilby…” She whispered, stumbling towards the man reaching out towards him, he raised an eyebrow and flinched away from your touch. You pulled your hand back taking a little breath,

     “I’m sorry. How do you know my name?” From behind you, Phil flinched; he knew that’s what you wanted, for him not to remember you. But, fuck he felt guilty about it, he was about to feel even more guilty in a minute. 

     “She’s your mom Wilbur.” 

     “Fucking WHAT.” Wilbur sputtered taking a few steps back from the woman, “You told me my mom was a fridge!”

     “You told him what.” You turned towards Phil, eyes blazing with annoyance, he held his hands up in surrender. “Why would you tell him his mother was a fridge! I know I told you to lie but a fridge! Phil that’s not even physically possible!” You scolded the man crossing your arms over your chest, his face flushed a bright red. He even missed you yelling and scolding him, he was down bad. 

     “(Y/n) I panicked-” Phil started to explain and you cut him off with an eye roll. “I’m sorry okay, I love you.” 

Meanwhile, Wilbur and Fundy looked in between the two adults rapidly as they talked. Both equally shocked and at a loss for words, Wilbur took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. 

     “Please continue your explanation,” He commanded softly, “If you are my mom why did you leave? Why haven’t you been here?” Wilbur frowned as he watched you look away from him, 

     “How much do you know about Nymphs Wilbur?” Wilbur turned bright red and the color reached up onto the tips of his ears, “What?”

“My mom’s a Nymph.” Fundy spoke up in place of Wilbur, “her name’s Sally. I...I’m Wilbur’s son.” He watched your face melt and mouth a broken ‘son?’, Phil noticed and walked up to squeeze your hand. You had missed so much, you hoped you didn’t blame yourself, you and Phil lived too long to live with that many regrets. 

     “What happened to her?” You asked tenderly, 

     “Killed.” Wilbur said bluntly, “by hunters. Don’t worry, I made sure to dispose of them.” 

     “I-I’m so sorry.” You spoke and Wilbur couldn’t help but feel compelled into your arms. Something about you just made him want to melt into your body, he knew Phil was right in the end. You were his mother through and through, I mean the shared pointed ears said enough. 

     “Is that why you left?” Fundy asked walking over to stand beside Wilbur, Fundy’s ears pressing against his head. They both watched you nod and Phil tightened his grip on your arm, you took in another deep breath. His hand moved to wrap securely around your waist, he was here for you. He’d always be here for you.

     “When you were born, the hunters were far worse, there were much more of them. Greater numbers and they sniffed out Nymphs like hunting dogs to a rabbit. I couldn’t keep a newborn baby safe, especially one that was half Nymph...Which probably explains why Fundy’s part fox, he has more Nymph in him.” The fox hybrid seemed to light up at even the inclination that he was special in any way, shape, or form. “It was safer for me to be as far away from the both of you as possible, and I was right considering you grew up into a handsome young man with a family of his own.” You chuckled fondly leaning into Phil’s touch. “But I can understand if you don’t trust me or want to get to know me,” You smiled sadly at the man Fundy spoke up before Wilbur could. 

     “No! We want to get to know you grandma!” He blurted taking your hands in his own, you melted at the adorable way his eyes lit up. You glanced up at Wilbur who Phil totally wasn’t threatening with his eyes, 

     “I…” The man looked hesitant, but as he stared into your warm eyes once more he felt encapsulated within them. His longing for a motherly figure in his lips came back at full force and washed over him like a tidal wave. He had a mother and she was safe and here and willing to come back into his life if he was ready. 

Was he ready? Why did he feel ready?

     “Fuck that hesitance she’s grandma,” You let out a delighted laugh ruffling up Fundy’s hair, his tail wagging elatedly behind him. 

     “Don’t spoil him, love.”

     “Fuck you, I’m spoiling the hell out of my grandson. Gotta make it up to him somehow.” Fundy’s tail only wagged harder as he wrapped you in a tight hug, you hugged him back just as tightly. 

     “Hey, Hey move over champion. I get to hug my mom now.” Wilbur snapped defensively, as Fundy snickered only looking up at him mischievously hugging you tighter. You laughed in delight seeing Wilbur huff, Phil melted against you in relief. Wilbur’s face was scrunching up the exact way you do when you’re pissed, he smiled against the side of your head. Wilbur pushed his son to the side gently and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, he towered over you but couldn’t help but bury his face in your neck. You cooed softly and ran your fingers through his hair, he was gone the moment you did so, melting in your arms completely. 

Without you noticing Phil took a step away from the group just to admire the moment from an outsider’s perspective. For what felt like the hundredth time that hour Phil felt light, he felt like the weight of the world was off his shoulders. Everything was right in the universe again, you were finally holding your not-so-little boy in your arms again after all these years. Even if you did have a fox hanging off you as well, Phil let out a soft chuckle looking at the three with adoration. A long time ago he gave up his mortality and humanity for you, after you left he had pleaded to the gods once more, he swore he would give up anything for just one more day with you by his side. They had ignored his wishes, they knew without a doubt you’d be back in his arms again, and this time he wouldn’t have to give up a single thing. 

~~~

Okay but actually I had so much fun writing this??? Maybe even a Pt. II?

[hext00ns]

Febuwhump 2022 Day 15: Hidden Scars

AO3 link in the comments

Ships: Sonadow

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

Description: Shadow traces the scars along Sonic’s body, left over from a life of battling, adventuring, and living.

Sonic had scars.

This was not new information. Everyone knew it. It was near impossible to live the life he did and come out clean. However, it was hard to tell just how many. His fur and quills hid them almost perfectly. Very few were big enough to cause some lighter fur regrowth around them. Those ones being just a touch more visible.

For example, Shadow noted his chest scars that marked a very old surgery. Even female animal mobians had bigger chests than males normally, much like overlanders. And, similarly to overlanders, animal mobians also tended to seek out methods of transitioning gender for their upper bodies. Sonic was no different.

Shadow’s fingers gently traced over the two, slightly curved, scars that told this tale. The fur around them was much thinner when it grew back. It made them easier to find and touch.

But they were not the only scars across Sonic’s skin.

Shadow laid against the blue blur. His whole body draped half atop the other. He could feel the weak purrs rumble from the half-asleep hedgehog under him as he raked slow fingers though the soft fur.

Shadow’s fingers left the top scars and trailed down Sonic’s stomach. The scars littering his stomach were less harsh but still there. Some definitely older than others as he traced each and every one he found.

His hand then moved up, past his chest, and to his shoulder. Down his arm. Tracing every last wound left over from a life of fighting and running.

Shadow was older. Made to be a weapon, made to fight. But even he didn’t wear as many scars as Sonic. Sonic was reckless, constant. He’d met the hero when they were teenagers but he had heard of the stories before then. A childhood in a war. A hero starting no older than eight.

Every time Shadow’s fingers traced an older wound, he would wonder to himself, just how young Sonic had been when he’d gotten it.

Even then, Shadow was Ultimate. He healed at rates much faster than any other living being. It was rare for any of his own injuries to scar over. Sonic was mobian. Even with all his abnormalities, he was still mortal. He wasn’t like Shadow. He bruised and scarred and bled. If Shadow lost a limb it would (albeit, painfully) grow back. If Sonic lost a limb it would be gone for good.

Shadow’s fingers took pause at Sonic’s fingers. Their gloves were off, as they sometimes were when they were alone like this.

Sonic had once explained that it was first an aid for animal mobians. Their hands and paws sensitive to touch and the pads on the fingers and palms were easy to injure if not taken care of properly. The gloves were started to protect that. After a while, they became fashion statements just as well as sensitivity aids.

Shadow wondered if his own want for gloves came from a similar mobian sensitivity or if it stemmed from his aversion to touch based on a touch-starved developed repulsion to the sensations.

Either way, even Shadow was not immune to the almost ritualistic way of allowing bare hands with those closest to him. Even going as far back as a young Maria curiously feeling the pads and claws he allowed her to touch.

Even in that moment, it felt special. Maybe it was all instinctual. Shadow liked instinctual. He liked the feeling of actions that came from an indescribable stir in the core of his very existence. It made him feel real. It made him feel natural.

For a child born of tubes and beakers; to feel a call from a voice as old and as natural as the dirt below his feet was freeing.

And so, his hands and the hands he paused to hold were bare. Gloves neatly left on a bedside table. Forgotten till the morning.

Shadow’s fingers lazily curled around Sonic’s. Fiddling with each digit. Pressing softly against each pad. He spent longer at Sonic’s hand than anywhere else.

Shadow had heard the jokes of how 'scandalous’ holding hands was. The humor, he believed, came from equating them to some form of public intercorse. Exacerbating the intimacy and privacy of the action for comedic effect. However, Shadow didn’t think the joke was too far off.

He looked at their hands. Each finger fit perfectly between each other. As if hand crafted to hold each other. Made to tangle and lock together. Shadow would be hard pressed to find anything in the world more intimate.

When Shadow’s hand finally left Sonic’s, he traced his way back up the other’s arm and shoulder and towards his neck. Surprisingly there were a couple of scars here too. He traced each and every one as he had before.

After his hand finally reached Sonic’s cheek, Shadow looked up to match the other’s eyes.

Emeralds gazed at him lazily and full of love.

“Havin’ fun over there?” Sonic remarked with a smile.

Shadow gave a hum. “Yes,” was all he said before leaning up to press their lips together.

[fanfic-wonderland]

Slave For You {Tom Riddle}

(A/N): Hello! This one was originally requested on Wattpad so I hope you like it! 

Also, Tom Riddle and The Marauders are the same age on this one!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: For the longest time, you have been 'working' for Tom Riddle and doing all of his chores for him. You assume that it is simply because he despises you but it turns out that there might be another reason as to why he's keeping you around.

Warning: Suggestive smut at the end (?)

Word count: 3.2k

●○●

'Your tasks of the day are simple. All you have to do is clean my bookshelves and organize the books in alphabetical order once you're done. These should be finished by the time I get to the dorm.'

After you read the note found inside one of your books, you scrunch up the small piece of paper and throw it aside with a groan. Being Tom Riddle's little helper is not something you planned on doing when you got to Hogwarts but, somehow, he managed to wrap you right around his finger. Although you're not too fond of it, there's something that prevents you from putting an end to it all. Tom can be very 'persuasive' so It's not that easy to escape him if he wants something from you. "Everything okay?" Remus looks up from his notebook with a raised brow. The other three stop their movements abruptly; Peter's quill stops tracing letters while James and Sirius pause their own little paper war in order to stare curiously at you.

"Yeah, just..." you point your wand at the ball of paper and it disappears within a second. "It's Bertha Jorkins, she says she has 'new gossip' to tell me about."

Sirius makes a gagging sound. "Since when are you close to Bertha?"

"I'm not. She just has no one to talk to."

"And for good reason, I'd say," James says and Peter snickers in the background. "You're way too smart for her."

You laugh. "Are you actually going to meet up with her, though?" Remus asks as he resumes reading.

"Yes, it shouldn't be too bad." You shrug in hopes that they'll drop the interrogation. James and Sirius look at each other as if to say 'I wouldn't be so sure about that'.

You hate lying to them but if they ever find out about what's happening between you and Tom, they'll flip. It's bad enough that they can't stand him already so a lot of times you feel like you have to do everything in your power to never let them know, because you know that they'll try to do something about it and it won't end up well.

The Marauders are strong... but Tom is stronger. You know the things he's done.

He's made it very clear from the beginning what his intentions are with you.

"You're strong, very strong. But I need to be the strongest." He had said that day when he cornered you inside a dusty broom closet. Both arms were caging you while your back pressed against the nearest wall. "So, from now on, you shall do as I say."

"And what if I don't?" you spat.

Tom smirked calmly. One hand reached to grab a loose strand of your long hair, curling it around his index finger. He tugged on it, pulling your face closer to his and you couldn't stop the wince of pain that left your lips. In a low, menacing voice, he said, "Then, I'll kill you like the cockroach that you are."

Your breathing hitched at his words. Surely, he didn't mean that. You knew he was not exactly what he made other people believe -the charming, perfect Slytherin Prefect- but he couldn't be a murderer...

You gulped. "No, you wouldn't."

Tom laughed bitterly. "You don't think I'm capable of doing so? Not even after I killed that little mudblood, Myrtle Warren?"

Your eyes widened at the sound of her name. "Th-that can't be..."

"If I were you, I wouldn't want to find out if It's true, then," his hand moved down to rest on your neck and you felt like he'd tighten his grip if you said the wrong thing. "And I also suggest that you keep this between us. You wouldn't want your dear friends to get hurt either, right?"

A shiver ran down your spine. Deep down, you were certain that he meant everything he said. Tom was never the one to make jokes.

You shook your head without saying another word.

Surprisingly enough, you're not as miserable as you thought you'd be working for Tom. At first, it was bad, really bad because you felt like you hated his guts and he hated yours. But, as time went on, you began to... warm up to him, in a way. Or maybe you've just grown used to his presence and his ways that they simply do not affect you anymore. It's hard to tell.

You're at his dorm after you're done with your essay. It's easy to slither in; unlike your own, Tom's friends are very well aware of your little agreement, so he's most certainly made it clear to them that you should be allowed access to their Common Room whenever you need to. As always, they confiscate your wand at the entrance, but you're used to it by now. With the same old defeated sigh, you waste no time in starting your work on the large bookshelves. It takes longer than you initially think but, compared to other things that you've had to do for Tom, this is no more than a few drops of sweat.

You sit down on a nearby desk chair to catch your breath and admire the final product as soon as you're finished. Although It's never under the best conditions, you cannot deny that you're good at doing chores like this one. You're probably even better than Tom, considering he feels the need to utilize you for such things.

"Oh, you really think so?"

With a loud gasp, you sit up straight and turn to face the doorway. The very person you're thinking about is standing there with his hands behind his back, fixing his gaze completely on you. You feel like he's been in the room for longer than he makes it known.

When you analyze his words, you suddenly remember that, while you're better at doing chores, he's way better at using Legilimency.

You clear your throat trying to pick yourself up and not look too surprised. "Well, yes, it sure seems that way," you stand up as you talk. "If it were the other way around, you wouldn't be needing my help so often."

"I don't need your help, though," he walks closer to you; you do not move an inch. "I only feel the need to make you do these things in order to take away from your development as a witch."

You feel your blood boil and he knows he's struck a nerve. You can tell by the way his lips turn into a faint smirk. "Well, clearly the fact that you feel the need to do that says a lot about your own skills as a wizard. Surely, if you're as strong as you say, you shouldn't have to feel so intimidated by me."

Tom takes another step forward. "I never said I was intimidated by you."

Somehow, you gain the strength to step closer to him, as well. At this point, there's only like a foot of distance between the two of you. It reminds you yet again of the day he made you his 'helper' but, somehow, this time it feels different. "Actions speak louder than words, I guess." It's your turn to smirk.

The words being thrown back and forth are challenging but they do not feel menacing. It feels like you're both teasing each other in a more light-hearted manner, so much that you do not feel uncomfortable with the way that Tom's body is almost hovering above yours. "Where did this smart mouth of yours come from?" he chortles quietly.

"I guess It's better than to be miserable around you." You admit with a shrug.

Tom nods. "I like that. It makes you less pathetic."

"And it makes you less of an asshole, somehow."

He quirks an eyebrow but says nothing about that. Instead, his hands finally come into view and you see that he's been holding your wand this entire time. "Here."

You gladly take it. It's a relief to have it in your hands, again. "Much appreciated."

When you make your way towards the exit, he turns to address you for the last time. "I will write to you tomorrow for your next tasks."

You don't say anything back but Tom knows that you heard him perfectly. Once you are fully out of sight, he scans the bookshelves, very impressed (He always is) with how neat you left them. It makes the faintest of smiles appear on his lips but he disguises it with a clearing of his throat and his hands moving up to loosen his tie.

For the longest time, he's been trying to avoid having you on his mind at inappropriate times, most noticeably when he's all alone in his dorm. Today is no exception.

***

After breakfast, you and the Marauders head to the Courtyard to get some fresh air before your first class of the day begins. A few students seem to do the same, some chatting away while others play Gobstones in a quieter manner. You lean against the nearest column while letting out a sigh of relaxation and indulging in the peaceful atmosphere. James, who is staring at you without your awareness, is the first to break the silence. "So, (Y/N)... how did it go with Bertha yesterday?"

You turn to look at him, only to realize that It's not only him who's eyeing you suspiciously; the other three are, too. Come to think of it, you did notice that they have been acting a bit unusual since you saw each other at the Great Hall. Regardless of their odd behaviors, you say, "It went well. We talked for hours."

"Oh, really?" Sirius, alongside James, begins to walk around your figure at a slow pace with quirked brows as if their intention is to make you confess to something bad that you've done. Peter follows their steps like a helpless sidekick. "Interesting..."

You tilt your head in confusion but deep down you begin to feel uneasy. "What is?"

"What's interesting," Sirius stops right in front of you and points a finger in your direction accusingly. "is that you're a liar!"

Your breath hitches at his answer. Although you know he's mostly being playful, you feel panic rushing through you now that you're sure that they're onto you. You try to play it cool, though. "What do you mean?"

"Bertha confirmed to us that she hadn't seen you all day yesterday," Remus explains. "Is everything alright?"

The look on his face makes your stomach drop. You hate lying overall but lying to Remus is a whole other thing. Perhaps that's why you cannot bring yourself to think of an excuse. Would it really be too bad if they knew about the whole Tom thing? Would Tom really dare to do something to them? To you? Yes, maybe he is capable of doing horrible things but murdering five students would bring a lot of attention to the school, surely he could not get away with such a thing...

... Or could he?

"(Y/N)?" Remus places a hand on your shoulder and it snaps you back to reality. He looks concerned all of a sudden.

You sigh in defeat. "Okay, you guys caught me. I have been lying to you all."

"Aha!" Sirius exclaims, snapping his fingers in a victorious kind of way.

"So, what have you been keeping from us, huh?" James wastes no time asking.

You stare at all four of them individually but no words seem to come out. You're still in a constant fight with your own mind about how you should handle the situation. If you lie then It's going to keep going until it finally blows up some other time, and that would probably be worse. But if you tell them now then you might be risking their safety as well as your own. "Well," you gulp and try to take a deep breath, and you just talk without even thinking about it. "You see, for a while, I've been-"

"(Y/L/N)."

All of you turn to see that the sudden voice comes from the very person who created this whole mess. You hear Peter let out a loud shriek once Tom begins to make his way toward you. "What in the bloody hell do you want, Riddle?" James glowers at him.

"A word," Tom answers as soon as he's standing just a few feet in front of you. "With (Y/L/N). It's not quite your business, is it, Potter?"

"Well, you've got no business coming to her, either," Sirius states, coming almost face-to-face with Tom. The height difference between them isn't much but it is still clear that Tom is slightly taller. That does not seem to bother your friend, though.

"Guys, It's fine," you reassure them. They look at you as if you've gone insane but you ignore it as you turn to Tom. "It should be quick, I suppose?"

Tom nods firmly. His expression is blank and you can't comprehend what he's thinking, but you figure it is nothing good. "Of course."

You follow him all the way to his dorm, ignoring the usual nasty stares from the few students hanging around the Common Room. You suddenly feel even more nervous than before because the first thing that goes through your mind is that Tom is angry at you and that he definitely knows that you almost exposed him in front of the Marauders. That's why, when you walk in first, you don't dare to turn around immediately, you're scared of what you'll see. Of what he'll do. "Look at me," he says.

His voice sounds softer than usual but it is still firm. Taking in a sharp breath, you slowly do as you're told. You expected him to be pointing his wand at you, ready to hit you with the Killing Curse, but he seems... harmless. At least for the time being. "You nearly told them about our deal."

"I know. I apologize." You drop your gaze down to the ground.

You sense him coming closer to you but it isn't until he grabs your chin that you're forced to look back up at his face. "Tell me, why can't you just obey me and stay silent?" Tom asks you quietly.

You're shocked by this kind of behavior coming from him. "I-I don't know..."

You still half expect him to do something bad but, judging by the way he's looking down at you, you realize that maybe today your life will be spared. Most surprisingly, he lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes his head in an amused way. "What am I to do with you, then?"

You build up the confidence to say, "Whatever you want, I guess. I don't think it matters anymore."

Tom's stare moves down to your lips. "I was going to let you free a lot sooner, you know," he suddenly confesses. His face is closer to yours now. "This whole thing wasn't supposed to drag on for too long. I just needed you under my grasp until my skills exceeded yours."

You remain quiet. "However," he resumes, his voice falling into a whisper. "I could not bring myself to let you go and I never understood why. What is it about you that draws me in so much?"

"Tom..." you say his name softly. You do not know what's happening, either, but, as soon as you realize that with each word he says he's leaning closer, you find yourself closing the gap between both of you.

His lips are soft and gentle, which you do not expect from such a cold-hearted boy, but you cannot deny that it wakes up something inside of you. You feel warm all over and you clench onto his robes for dear life, wanting to keep him as close as possible in fear of losing that warmth. He seems to be doing the same thing as he wraps an arm protectively around your waist while the hand grabbing your chin moves to bury itself in your hair. He does not feel like the Tom you met for the first time, when both of you were merely First Years and you immediately understood that there was something very wrong with him. He was full of darkness and yet he would hide it so well that no one ever noticed. His charm grew over the years but it was a façade, almost like his own personal weapon that could help him get whatever he wanted. This Tom, however, feels real and vulnerable. He's kissing you like he needs you in order to live, to finally feel something after having to pretend for so long.

Your tongue slips in between his parted lips and he groans at the sudden sensation, his grip on you tightening subconsciously, but it does not hurt. In fact, you want him to hold you like this for longer than you dare to admit. You should hate him for basically having you as his own personal slave all this time, but you cannot find it in you right now.

Your back presses against the wall and Tom takes the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, lifting you up almost effortlessly. His lips go down to press against your jawline, then to your neck, and although it feels bloody amazing you cannot deny that your lips miss his touch instantly. You grip his shoulders while he licks and nips at your skin, closing your eyes and letting out a quiet sigh because of how good it feels. "You do not have to do my chores any longer," he says against your skin, followed by a trail of kisses. "I do not intend to make you go through that, again. But maybe-" He pulls away to look into your eyes, both of you breathing heavily. "-maybe stick around, if you wish to do so."

You recover just in time to smirk at him. "What are you asking of me, exactly?"

Tom drops his gaze and clears his throat. No matter how much he tries to hide it you catch a glimpse of the blush rising through his cheeks. "I'm asking you to be with me." He finally replies.

"As in, boyfriend and girlfriend?" you laugh lightly.

He looks up, again. "Perhaps."

You bite your lip. You cannot believe that you're actually considering it. "Well," you wrap your arms around his neck, your noses brushing against each other. His heated gaze makes your heart skip a few beats, so much that you're worried you'll go into cardiac arrest in front of him. "I guess we can see where it goes from here."

Tom lets out a breathy laugh while pressing his forehead against yours, his hands pulling you closer to him despite the fact that there was barely any space left between the two bodies. "Understandable. Then, I guess I'll just have to savor this moment while it lasts."

He begins to walk backward and then turns around so that your back makes contact with the mattress. You can't help but giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his arms. He kisses you, again, a little rougher than before but it still feels good. Too good, actually. "The Marauders won't take this well, you know." You tell him.

Tom smirks as he removes his jumper and throws it across the room without a care. While undoing his tie, he says, "I'm very well aware of that."

[vinceresemper]

"Draco?"

"Yes, Tedward?"

The grin that accompanied Draco's response transformed into a grimace, a soft hiss escaping his lips as gentle hands worked quickly over the torn ligament of his arm, pushing his Arrows uniform over his shoulder in a deft, clinical fashion.

"What's 'the catch?'" Teddy asked, his little legs swinging over the edge of the high stool he'd been placed on, eyes roving curiously from the swinging flaps of the healer tent to the bright colours of the non-verbal diagnostic and healing spells sparking through the air.

Squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath before turning his greys onto his cousin, Draco asked, "Which catch, Ted, my lad?" his lips stretching out into a grin when Teddy predictably burst into peals of laughter at the near-rhyme.

His small hands twining through the frays of the Arrows scarf that hung around his neck, Teddy's giggles interspersed his response.

"Viktor called Auntie Mione 'quite the catch.'"

The grip of the slender fingers on his arm tightened at the Teddy's explanation—a sharp contrast to the laughs bubbling from the small boy's lips. His eyes shined brightly from the excitement of the match, oblivious to the immediate tension that settled over the shoulders of the two adults in his presence. It was only then that Hermione's eyes finally met his, their gazes snapping to each other as if north and south poles of the same magnet.

The last healing charm that Hermione muttered under her breath died at her lips, the sparks flying from her wand then fizzling in the air, tumbling to nothingness. She watched as Draco's jaw twitched imperceptibly before his face shuttered, her chest searing as he hid any traces of emotion.

"Ah," Draco hummed, schooling his neutral expression into a playful one to look up at Teddy, once more, from the edge of his cot. "Fraternizing with the enemy team, Tedward? I expected more from you," he said sternly, pale eyebrows furrowing in mock-seriousness. His left arm shot out to tickle Teddy, both of them laughing as Draco interrogated, "Who are you here to root for today? Who is your favourite player of all time?"

Hermione bit back a smile as she healed the fibrous tissue, eyes intent on ensuring that the muscle before her was secured to the bone. She heard Teddy breathe out in between guffaws, "The Arrows! You, Draco! Draco Malfoy!"

When a victorious grin stole over his lips, slate greys sparkling with the unbridled joy of spending time with his cousin, Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the familiarity. Slivers of memories came back to her in flashes. In her kitchen, his chest pressed to her back, strong arms wrapped around her waist, his lips soft against the back of her neck. In his bed, him surrounding her as he hovered over her in the mornings, eyelashes glowingly translucent in the morning light, gaze impossibly soft as he simply drank her in. The clicking of their shoes across cobblestones in the quiet of midnight, her squeal ringing through the empty street as he spun her under the warm light of the street lamp. The two lines that formed at each corner of his lips when he smiled just so, eyes close enough for her to swim in its gradient of blues and greys, hues blending into each other in ways that reminded her of the way the sun glittered over the Great Lake.

"That's a good lad, Theodore!"

Hermione started as Draco's voice broke her out of her reverie, reality dragging her from what had once been but was no longer. Realizing that her fingers still lingered on strong arms, now healed, she ripped her hand away to her side, busying herself with the medical charts that she had floated beside her.

"Draco, Auntie Mione," Teddy whined, swinging his legs with fervour, "What's 'the catch?'"

Hermione's quill stilled in her hand as she noticed Draco stiffen, from the corner of her eye. Turning around, she willed all of the bravery that the Sorting Hat had seen in her to look directly at Draco, who had already been staring at her, expression unreadable. How was it that he was the one with his Quidditch robes hanging off of him, chest bared to her, and yet she felt the most naked?

He punctured their long shared look with a cocked eyebrow.

Across the countless interviews and dinners with their respective families and friends, all of which had asked tremendously invasive questions about their intentions with the relationship, she immediately knew it to ask, "Want me to take this?"

"I have to check your head, too, before I can clear you to get back on the pitch," she said softly, nibbling at her bottom lip before catching herself in the act, abruptly pressing her lips together.

He nodded at her impassively, inclining his head to indicate his readiness, before reaching up to ruffle Teddy's hair.

"Krum called Auntie Hermione a catch, huh, mate?" Draco started, raising his eyebrows at the small boy, who nodded vigorously in response. In his periphery, he saw her feet hesitate under her lime green healer robes before they marched determinedly up to him, stepping into the space between where each of his legs hung over the cot.

Draco's hands, clad in their Quidditch gloves, twitched on his thighs as he fought the instinctive urge to bring her close and wrap her into his arms, burrowing his face into her hair. He tried to steady his breathing as her hands tentatively reached out to hold his face, her eyes determinedly trained on the path of her fingertips, as they scanned his head for any bumps or tenderness. He breathed out slowly as he willed himself to focus on his cousin, ignoring how just a slight change in the angle of his thighs could trap her to him.

"Who could blame the bloke," Draco said softly, ignoring the way Hermione's hands froze as they traced his hairline—ignoring the aching desire to have her run her fingers through his hair, hands gently caressing his face.

At Teddy's furrowed brows, Draco gave him a small smile, looking over Hermione's arm to meet the boy's gaze.

"You know how whenever you come over to the Manor, we fly above the gardens?"

Teddy nodded, grinning at his cousin. "I get to fly with you, and your broom goes so high!" he exclaimed, eyes lighting up in pure delight.

Draco chuckled and closed his eyes, leaning his head back in compliance with the pressure of Hermione's finger under his chin.

"How does it feel when you're flying with me, mate?"

"We're on top of the world!" Teddy threw his hands up in the air, kicking his feet out to emphasize his point.

"Exactly. You feel like you can do anything, with the wind racing through your hair, so far from the ground and yet able to see everything below you in a new way, right?"

Teddy hummed in agreement as Hermione continued her ministrations, tapping his head gently with her wand.

"Well, Teddy," with his eyes still closed, Draco paused for a long moment, before continuing, "'the catch' is when you find someone who makes you feel that way even when you're standing on the ground. Just being around them makes you feel like there isn't a thing you can't do because, by Morgana, the miracle of all miracles has already happened in that life has brought you this person, through all of life's big events and small serendipities—lucky little ones, and you just can't believe that of all the people in the world, you're the one that gets to love them."

At Hermione's sharp intake of breath, Draco opened his eyes to find her staring down at him, a storm of emotions roaring through her expressive orbs that were as bad as hiding her feelings as he was good at hiding his.

He loved that about her.

"And when you find that person, Teddy, don't let them go," he said softly, holding Hermione's gaze as the weight of his words fell around them as a heavy cloak, stifling the room.

"Doesn't Auntie Hermione make you feel like that, Tedward?"

Draco broke the tension with a quick turn of his head, tearing his eyes away to give Teddy a cheery grin. Oblivious to the undercurrents of the conversation, the small boy leaped off of his high stool to crash into Hermione, wrapping his arms around her legs and burrowing his face into her side.

"I do love you lots, Auntie Mione!" he said with all the fervor that he could muster, voice muffled by her robes.

"Oh, Teddy," Hermione murmured, pocketing her wand to scoop him into her arms, pressing a kiss into his soft cheek, then on the top of his head. "I love you so much, kiddo."

Rising to his feet, Draco stepped closer to Hermione to tuck Teddy's scarf more securely around his neck before gently caressing his cheek, missing the way her eyes lingered on his lips, her body aflame with the overwhelming need to be tucked into him the way Teddy was tucked into her.

A bright flash startled all three of them, as a nasal voice rang out, "A mid-match lovers' reunion? Is it true? The star-crossed lovers are back together again?"

Gritting her teeth, Hermione began to set Teddy back down on the high stool to hex the daylights out of Rita Skeeter, when Draco wordlessly charmed the flaps of the healer tent to roll shut, casting silencing and privacy charms with his face set firmly into a scowl. Releasing a long breath, he turned to Hermione and asked quietly, "Am I cleared to resume the match?"

"Your numbers are borderline—any worse, and you'd definitely have a concussion," Hermione informed him, holding Teddy more tightly to her as she anticipated his response.

"But my numbers don't indicate a concussion, correct?" he asked simply, giving Teddy a wink.

Hermione drew a deep breath, ready to argue—before deflating, remembering that it was not her place any longer. Whether Draco continued to play in a vulnerable, albeit stable, state was not her call to make. She closed her eyes as she remembered all the times she had kissed him before kick-off, whispering, "come back to me in one piece," every time, and the forehead kiss and wink that would follow, before he zoomed off to the middle of the pitch.

She didn't get to request that he come back to her in one piece. Not anymore.

Swallowing thickly, Hermione nodded. "Correct."

At that, Draco gave her a small smile as he pulled his uniform back up, clasping his robe into place. Her breath caught as he walked over to her and Teddy, broom in hand after a wordless Accio. He paused for a moment, greys poring over her face, before he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, whispering a soft, "thank you." He ruffled Teddy's hair, calling out, "I'll see you out there, Tedward!" as he strode out, tent flaps billowing behind him.