#forcing myself to make smooth and even lines and also I challenged myself to hold my hand off the tablet for better control

[the-lord-of-the-things]

went ham on a stylized warmup that got a little out of hand I’ve been watching a lot of pottery vids so I got inspired to experiment on a more simplistic and illustrated style, also I just really like rabbits and daffodils

[blindingdutchy]

The filming scene In part 1 of pornstar!tom where he’s tied up and you take the blindfold off and his eyes are all blurry and unfocused go me thinking:

Imagine the video went viral and people started asking for more sub!tom so they get you to do it again but with more edging, so you’re sitting there, tom is tied up and gaged and you’ve been edging him for the past half hour but he’s not used to being the sub so he’s crying cuz he just wants to cum so bad and everyone thinks he’s just really good at acting but you know he’s crying for real. So when the scene is done you untie him and remove the gag, and the directors are telling you to come see how good it looks but you’re too busy making sure Tom is okay, and he’s so tired that he’s falling asleep on you😍🤤

i am such a submissive person this was genuinely difficult for me to write, but i think i got somewhere 😅possibly not even a request, but i was inspired and wanted to challenge myself

read switch here!

cry baby | t.holland

{pornstar!tom x pornstar!reader}

word count: 2,254

warnings: smut ofc

warnings: sub!tom, oral (m receiving), bondage, blindfold, spit play, edging/orgasm denial

You never thought you’d have ended up here again. But, your video with Tom had reached heights you’d never achieved before, and the fans were eating it up. They wanted more—and to your surprise, so did Tom.

Now, as he laid in much the same position he had in the original video, you were starting to understand why. He was flat on his back with all four limbs stretched out and fastened to the bedposts with thick black rope. His chest was heaving, his lips parted in fast paced pants as he watched you with intrigue—he knew what was to come.

“Are you ready, baby boy?” you cooed, stroking his cheek with your thumb. Tom’s eyes fluttered at the caress, brown irises blown wide with lust and desperation, and he whined airily. The black blindfold shielded you from his longing stares, and he lifted his head a little too eagerly so that you could slip the strap around his head.

Already he had suffered through the torture of your hands, his body flushed from agonizing minutes spent with your hands stroking his cock hard and fast just to rip his orgasm away from him. The sound of his pleas and cries still echoed in your ears, a familiar pang throbbing in your core as you remembered the way he sobbed your name on the third denial. For being such a dominant man, Tom was incredibly good at being submissive.

This time, though, you were skipping the gag. You wanted to hear all the little noises Tom could make, to hear all the words that spilled from his lips as he yearned so achingly for your touch. Trailing your fingers down his chest, you murmured, “What do you want, hm? Want my hands again?”

He shivered, a stuttered gasp escaping his mouth as you swirled your thumb around his nipple. The little bud hardened instantly, standing tall and stiff from the stimulation. “I—I want your mouth, Miss.” he whispered, and you smiled.

“You know what you have to do,” you tutted.

Tom’s lips were trembling as you crawled onto the bed, perching on your knees between his thighs, and he pleaded weakly, “P-please! I want your mouth, Miss, want it so bad.” His hips bucked wildly as your hands delicately caressed the skin of his inner thighs, and you admired the trail of goosebumps that erupted in their path. He was always so reactive, and it made your belly twist up in knots.

Seeing him there, entire body physically quivering for you to just do something, the world around you faded away. No longer did you care about the cameras trained upon you, and the faint sounds created by the crew vanished into white noise—it was just you and Tom. His legs were straining against the rope that tied them down, flexing and tensing as he tried his hardest to chase the hands that touched them.

Humming, your hands dragged up his thighs to rest on his hips. Thumbs dipping into the rippled lines of muscle that descended from his abdomen to his center, the length of his cock was reddened and leaking as it rested on his heaving stomach. Tom’s breathing picked up a notch as you teased the skin with a feather light touch, the area bare and smooth; he liked to keep things groomed for filming.

“Do you think you deserve my mouth, baby?”

Tom gasped when your hand closed around his length, stroking soft and slow pumps with almost no pressure at all. “Yes, I’ve been a good boy, Miss! I’ll—I’ll be so good for you!” he pleaded, voice hoarse, and you smirked at the way his head rolled around helplessly. “Please, Miss!”

Pulling at his length with more conviction, you relished in the strangled cry of relief he gave. “Don’t cum until I say so, understand?” you commanded, tone heavy with warning, and he nodded with a choked moan.

The sounds Tom made when your lips finally wrapped around his tip, lapping greedily at the pre-cum that was beaded on his slit, were purely animalistic. Carnal shouts of ecstasy and relief, his mouth hanging wide as he tugged relentlessly on his restraints. Each noise, each cry and plea for you to take him further, spurred you on. Your lips wrapped around him tighter, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked harder, and you flattened your tongue to take more of him.

Tears welled in your eyes when you pushed the tip of your nose into his pelvis, his length buried deep in your throat and choking you. “Oh, fuck!” he cried out, hips bucking wildly off the bed, and you gagged roughly around him. The noise of your wet, sloppy cough around his length paired with the sensation of your throat constricting had him trembling beneath you.

“Miss, ‘m gonna cum,” Tom panted. His voice was broken and cracked, his throat undoubtedly worn out from the guttural sounds that had ripped it apart. You hummed around him before pulling away with a grin, loving the way his hips chased after you sloppily. “I—why did you stop?” he groaned, lips puffing up in a tiny pout.

You tutted, swirling your thumb lazily around his tip and licking the vein that ran along his shaft. There was nothing more you wanted in that moment than to strip your costume off and slide into his lap, but the video didn’t call for that. This time around the focus was all on Tom, endless edging and denial for the panting man on the bed.

As his breathing finally slowed, the erratic rise and fall of his chest deepening with his steadier inhales and exhales, you dipped closer once more. Almost instantaneously he stiffened, cock twitching in your hand expectantly, and you smirked at how needy he was. Now, after all the times you and Tom had slept together, it made you feel good to finally be in control. It felt good to be the one delving out the excruciating push and pull, dangling him right at the precipice of ecstasy only to drag him away before he could fall.

So, maybe you were being a little vindictive when you sucked his weeping tip between your lips and curled your tongue around it just like you knew he loved. When Tom was in control he rarely gave you the chance to truly treat him well; most often he’d be holding your head and choking the life out of you as he thrust to his heart’s content. But now? Now you were setting the pace, calling the shots, and damn if you weren’t going to make him fucking cry.

Already he was whimpering pathetically, his breathing jagged and voice hoarse as he continually vocalized his need for you. His entire body was glistening with a light sheen of sweat and oil, the latter courtesy of Marlena the makeup artist, and he looked ethereal. He looked like a classical painting or sculpture, all artistically harsh edges colliding with soft flesh. The ridges of his muscle flexed and strained against his tender, slightly flushed skin, and it made your mouth water.

You pushed him to that cliff twice more, each time forcing more and more aggressive pleas from his pretty, pink lips. Tom was growing frustrated—angry, even—and the thought of it made you excited. His jaw was tensed and ticking with every grind of his teeth, and if you’d removed the blindfold you’d surely have been met with dark, swirling pools of rage in his eyes. If there was one thing he hated, it was to be teased.

Swirling your tongue around the broad, blazing red tip of his length, you giggled when a guttural cry burst straight from his chest. There it was, you were finally getting somewhere. His body was trembling all over, knees quaking and fingers quivering, and the sound of his desperation had finally reached its peak.

“Do you want to cum, baby boy?” you murmured, lips ghosting over the ridge beneath his tip eliciting a breathy whine, “Tell me how bad you want it.”

He jerked against the restraints, snarling madly. “I’ve been so good, Miss!” he choked out, “I’ve been a good boy, please, please, please, let me—oh!”

Your nose buried in the soft flesh of his pelvis, eyes watering and throat aching as he stretched your throat out. In the blurry edges of your vision you could just barely make out the way his hands stretched against their bonds, fingers straining and clawing through the air as he fought to grasp your head like he always did. You knew he wanted to move you, to thrust in and out of you at whatever pace he desired, but you had no intentions of moving.

How long could you stay like that? Face buried in his abdomen, eyes dripping tears, saliva trailing down your chin as you strained around him? You wanted to find out, and a part of you also longed to know if you could push him over the edge just like this. Not moving, just letting the erratic twitch of your throat as you gagged stimulate him.

In the end, you caved first. He was muttering unintelligibly, lips moving in a flurry of words you couldn’t make out that wavered in pitch dramatically. You wished to keep going, but the persistent ache in your jaw and lungs told you that you needed to stop. You needed air, and if you tried to push through it you’d either suffocate or instinctively clamp your jaw around the intrusion—that certainly wouldn’t have been good.

As you pulled off of him again, breathing heavily and wheezing slightly as you stretched your jaw, you wondered if he remembered this was the end. The script called for you to leave him begging, pleading his life to release only to be left unfulfilled. He was still whining to himself, and you could just barely make out the hoarse whisper, “I’ll fucking die if you don’t let me cum, please, Miss.”

You were still stroking him slowly with your hand as you sat up, your back aching slightly at the stretch. “Don’t be so dramatic,” you teased, and he growled under his breathe, “I don’t like your attitude right now, baby boy.”

He bared his teeth in a feral grimace, jaw tight and unwavering as he jerked against the ropes violently. “I want to cum!” he whined, voice cracking and slurred despite his demanding tone.

“Is that so?” you pouted, teasing the small slit of his tip playfully, “Well, it’s too bad I don’t really care what you want.”

With that, you got up and climbed off the bed as his length fell back onto his stomach with a dull smack. He hissed at the loss of contact and fought hard to chase after you, only to growl when he remained stuck. You admired the slick sheen that coated his body and the way his cock had gone a deeper shade of red, probably throbbing to the point of near agony from all of your edging.

“Cut!”

You swallowed down the swelling lump in your throat as you approached Tom timidly. The cameras were no longer rolling, his time playing the role of a submissive man over, and already you were shivering over what you’d certainly be facing later that night. What you hadn’t expected, though, was to find genuine tears streaming down his cheeks as you removed the blindfold.

The black garment was soaked with them, and you gaped at the red rim of his eyes and the inflamed ring around his nostrils. His brown eyes were unfocused and dazed as he looked at you, still watering as he blinked up at the sudden light, and your heart thudded pitifully against your ribcage. He was crying.

He was crying, and you didn’t know whether to feel guilty or scared. “Tommy?” you whispered, chewing on your lower lip as you stroked his sweaty curls from his face, “Are you okay?”

Tom’s head lulled into your touch, and he sniffled as he blinked up at you. “Yeah, ‘m good,” he croaked, “but you won’t be later.” His threat wasn’t all that intimidating as his eyes drooped, brown eyes clouded with exhaustion and lingering remnants of desperation. You brushed aside the feelings of nervous anticipation that stirred in the pit of your belly—that could wait.

All you cared about was untying Tom and maybe finishing what you’d started in your dressing room, though you were pretty sure he was too tired to go on. His eyelashes were fluttering as he fought to keep them open, and the sight was so heartwarmingly adorable that you couldn’t help but to coo at him. He pouted when you kissed his cheek, smacking his lips at you, “You missed, darling.” Rolling your eyes with a giggle, you pecked his lips and smiled at the pleased sigh that fanned your face.

All around you, you could hear the crew mumbling words of praise, all raving over Tom’s impeccable acting. “Damn, he should be in movies or something!” one man gaped, “(Y/N), come have a look!”

“Later,” you called back, “I’m busy.” Tom murmured sleepily, his head rolling deeper into the pillows, and you pondered to yourself how you were going to get him off the bed. A quiet snore perked your ears and you shook your head—for a man with so much stamina in the bedroom, he sure was beat from a little edging.

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[daisiesandshakes]

Fanfic (William Shakespeare & reader)

Warning: light smut

Also warning: english is not my native language, but I hope you enjoy!

Words: about 2000 (wow... I am surprised by myself)

One step closer

It was a bad day.  In your opinion it couldn't have been worse. Since nearly three weeks now you're helping Shakespeare with his new play. Your task was to take care of the costumes, stopping by for cleaning or darning them. But after a few days an actress catched a bad flue and William asked you to take her place.

You happily agreed to his wish. First everything went smooth, it was challenging but also fun. You liked to work with the other actors right away, enjoying their open and caring personalities, but the most important thing: You are able to spend time with Shakespeare.

At first you were only curious about him, you wanted to know more about the great mysterious William Shakespeare, who has left the mansion, and for sure you wanted to find out more about his work. The more time passed by, the more you could see your feelings change.

By this time it is impossible for you to face his glare without trembling legs or hundreds of butterflies in your stomach. William Shakespeare- the perfect gentleman, always treating you with respect and a gentleness that borders on adoration. Plus he is an extremly hard worker, fully dedicated to his plays, he is considerate and charming, he's got a fine sense of humor always making you smile, and his voice... oh you could spend hours only listening to him. In one or two rare moments you were even able to notice a softer, almost shy side at him and at that rare moments you knew you were lost. Helpless to his force of attraction like a planet to the force of gravity from a black hole.

You're really trying hard to hide that you're in love with him.

Who are you at all? Only a normal young woman who fell in love with one of history's greatest men. He deserves better than you. William deserves a woman who is as much talented and captivate as him. So you decided to admire and love him in secrecy.

But unfortunately those secret feelings for him happened to be the reason for your desaster today.

First William adjusted your new costume over and over again. You could feel his hands moving over your body and as he corrected the ribbons of your corset you were at your limit. You sensed his breath in your neck and there was no way to hide the tremble that rushed through your form. "Are you okay? Do you need something?" His enticing voice next to your ear... You almost blurted out 'You!"

With shaky words you explained you only forgot to eat proper this morning. He hummed at your words, then promised to offer after rehearse everything to you what you desire. Ah... Your mind spun.

Later he took place for one of his actors to show how the scene should look like. That ment he held you in his arms and whispered lovingly lines while looking straight into your eyes. You weren't able to remember your part anymore, you barely managed to stutter an excuse and asked embarressed for a small break. Not waiting for the answer you broke from the embrace and hurried off the stage - when the next drama happened.

You lost balance as your long dress stuck to the rail und you fell down the last stair. One of the actors helped you up and you assured quickly to be okay while realising the beautiful costume is ruined. Tearing up you fled the scene without looking back.

And now you're sitting on the chaise in the changing area, desperate, full of shame and tired of yourself.

Hot tears of frustration are spurting out as Shakespeare opens the door slightly. " May I come in?" He asks with a soft voice. A sobb leaves your lips and you try to wipe your tears away as soon as possible."Sure, William". He sits down next to you, trying to meet your gaze. But you are feeling ashamed, looking down, avoiding his eyes. "I.. I am so sorry for ruining the rehearse and the beautiful dress..." another tear rolls down your cheek. With two fingers under your chin Will lifts your head.

"There is no need to apologize, my brave maiden", he whispers and let you drown in his enchanting, mismatched eyes. You can't help it - more tears are spilling out and his other hand reaches up to wipe them away affectionaly. Will's face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin. He cups your face. "Tis is all my fault and my heart is bleeding with sorrow, knowing I did this to you". You frown. "I don't understand William... Why should my clumpsiness be your fault?"

Staring in your eyes, he sighs. "I know what your heart desires, my fair maiden. Now I know it for sure." His thumbs caress softly  your cheeks. "The past days I could see a change in your glare when you looked at me.. and when you thought I wouldn't notice that your eyes are following me". In shock you're holding your breath and you could feel the heat rising in your face.

The playwright shows a small, almost shy smile "But.. I wasn't sure at first, you left me wondering what brought up tis change in your behavior. Mayhap I divined it and I only was afraid to let your very soul whisper to the solidified heart of mine, which didn't know how to respond anymore after so many lonely centuries."  Will swollows hard "Sometimes I felt a bit confused about you..." he confesses.

"When I made a move upon you, you made a move backwards. Sometimes you took two steps. Then again I thought to glimpse the truth demand of your heart in your eyes. And the thought that it could be me what your heart desires made me weak."

At this point you're questioning reality and your eyes grow wide in disbelieve. Are you fantasizing? Could it be...?

"Yes, I am weak for you my fair maiden..." He continues in a whisper as if he can read your mind. He leans a bit closer, his forehead touching yours. "Tis weakness frightened me" his lips graces your eyebrows, then your cheekbones, a shiver runs down your spine. His lips feel so warm and soft... A whimper leaves your lips and you close your eyes.

"But at sudden my soul obtained greater fears to me." William's lips travel down, brushing your jaw. You inhale the scent of his silken hair and his shaving water. Your mind goes blank and your heart is beating so fast and hard now, you're afraid he can hear it.

"Not to see tis very expression in your eyes because of me anymore. Not having you around me anymore. Never being able to touch you..." Now he whispers in your ear, his lips touching your earlobe ever so slightly and you can't supress a moan. "As I knew my true fears and my deepest longing, I decided to force you to a reaction... And though I feel ashamed for doing tis to you... " William murmurs between tender butterfly kisses he places along your jawline. Shouldn't you be angry now with Shakespeare?  But your mind wasn't able to create a reasonable thought and his alluring sing-song voice hypnotizes you. Forgetting everything else, you only want his touch and get lost in your love for him.

"Your oh so sweet, passionate reactions brought tis insecure heart of mine more joy I could ever  imagine. For now there is no turning back... Nor for me, nor for you fair maiden."

He stops moving his mouth over your face and with a seductive voice he pleads "Look at me."

With intermittently breath you open your eyes to meet his stare and your heart flutters over the desperate, wanting  glance.

"Would you forgive tis poor, troublesome sinner?" Barely able to speak you manage somehow to whisper:"How can I not forgive you, Will? I love you so much."

Moving his fingers through your hair he grabs the back of your head, his eyes now dark and full of pleasure. " To grace me with those words.. they make me dizzy with desire..."

Again Shakespeare leans in closer, his burning eyes glued to your mouth. "And would you allow tis poor sinner who loves you insanely, wildly and infinitely to taste your lips...?"

Your heart misses a beat. Maybe two. This time you skip the answer, pulling him at his collar into a kiss.

William lets out a moan of surprise, throwing his arms around you, pressing your body against his. The kiss grows fast deeper as you feel his tongue flickering against your lips, begging for entrance. Obeying his wish, you let his tongue slip inside and the world around you stops existing.There was nothing you could do but moan into his kiss helplessly. Feeling his demanding tongue pushing in deep, then teasingly intertwinning with yours, while his hands endlessly caress the curves of your body, ruins  every yet existing rest of reason. The uprising heat in your veins burns to a point of hurt and starts a raging fire from your belly down to your inner thighs.

Suddenly William breaks the kiss, pulling your head to his chest, where you can hear his speeding heartbeat. "We should stop here my fair temptress, or else I won't be able to hold myself back anymore."

What? No no no... now that you've got a hint of the taste of everything you were craving for the last days, you have no intention to stop so soon. Your body still humming with pleasure you cling to his shoulders and leave a trail of small kisses from his collarbone up to his neck. Rubbing his cheek against yours he whines "Ah my godess, my temptress... " burrying his face at your neck he inhales your scent "You can't imagine how much I crave for your blood... it's calling me, singing alluring to me like a Sirene..."

As his tongue laves over your neck your form trembles and a lewd moan escapes your lips. He found one of your most sensitive spots.  His grip at your body tightens. He brushes his soft lips over the spot again with a flickering of his tongue. You can feel your hips bucking at this sensation and you gasp.

"I can't... stand it, I can't resist.." Shakespeare's voice - so needy and trembling with passion.

"Bite me Will!" You blurt out.  "I beg you, please bite me!" Does this desperate voice really  belong to you?

William hesitates only a brief second, then he pushes your body down, then let his fangs sink into your delicate skin with a groan.

After a sharp but short prick waves of burning, unearthly passion roll through you over and over again.

This passion cannot be human, it sets your entire body immediatly on fire and your core clenches. You can hear Shakespeare crying out as loud as you, pressing his hips against yours. Crying and moaning you start to pass out, repeating his name like a mantra.

As you open your eyes again, William fondles with your hair, observing you with a glance so concerning and lovingly, it almost makes you cry.

"I am so, so sorry... I was too greedy.."

You smile at him. "Don't feel sorry Will, I am doing fine and... " You inhale sharp "and by all the gods,  it was.. intense..."

You can feel your desire rising up again only by the thought of what happened before.

Shakespeare watches you with an intense stare, swallowing every reaction your body shows. His fingertips brush lightly over your lips before kissing you fiercly and senseless.

Then he pulls himself away.

He pants, placing a tender kiss on top of your head "I wish to seduce my godess in an adequate ambiance. So I'll take you now home with me, making sure I fulfill every wish and dream you can imagine... " he whispers seductively as he nuzzles his face in your hair. You both hold still for a few minutes, trying to calm down again, just enjoying to embrace each other. Unable to stop smiling, tears sting in your eyes. You can't remember that you felt happier anytime in your life.

Thank you for reading! 💝

Part 2

[writingindulgence]

Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second 

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few. 

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired. 

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door. 

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be. 

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed. 

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.  

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students. 

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man. 

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him. 

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured. 

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”, 

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold. 

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down. 

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death. 

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking. 

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish. 

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows. 

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. 

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”. 

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold. 

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you. 

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours. 

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before. 

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand. 

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what. 

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails. 

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another. 

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention. 

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating. 

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm. 

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure. 

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown. 

Sheer concentration. 

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity. 

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression. 

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain. 

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene. 

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes. 

Would you like to experience them? Definitely. 

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”. 

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you. 

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face. 

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him. 

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work. 

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first. 

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting. 

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something. 

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off. 

His disagreement comes soon after. 

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails. 

After that, you both fall silent again. 

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary. 

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides. 

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving. 

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain. 

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words. 

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours. 

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them. 

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.” 

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express. 

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then, 

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you. 

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails. 

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji. 

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over. 

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern. 

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo. 

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me? 

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek. 

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour. 

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Request (from this post):

@scarlet-gryphon suggested: Modern pre-3zun AU where for whatever reason, Meng Yao is challenged to do a tough rock climbing wall. Cue the italicized ‘ohs’ from Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue at his flexibility. (also posted to Ao3)

This kind of thing is very much outside of my usual wheelhouse of ideas so thank you so much for the challenge, it was super refreshing! Hope you like it ^_^

--

Fucking work retreats.

“ ‘It’ll be fun’ he says,” Meng Yao grumbles to himself as he plasters an extremely fake (perhaps slightly manic) smile on his face. “ ‘Lighten up, A-Yao’ he says,” he mocks again, his grin twisting into a mocking sneer for just a split second before he smooths it away again.

The benefit of being wildly unpopular is that no one milling around stops him on his hunt to try to chat, and finally after a few minutes of prowling he finds his prey.

“Nie Huaisang,” he says icily and he has the immense pleasure of seeing the Jiang Corporation heir and his brother look sharply at him over Nie Huaisang’s shoulders in (slightly eerie) synchronicity, both of them looking sufficiently aware of whatever it is they see on his face that promises danger for Nie Huaisang. Of course it’s in their own ways, which means Jiang Wanyin glares first at him and then at Nie Huaisang, and Wei Wuxian’s usual happy grin goes a bit manic as well, eyes glittering as he scents fresh mischief.

“A-Yao, there you are!” Nie Huaisang cries far too cheerfully as he turns, his ever-present fan already fluttering nervously in front of his chest. Why he insists on carrying that thing everywhere he goes Meng Yao doesn’t understand whatsoever, but he’s currently wishing he had the guts to tug it from his hands and snap it right in half.

“Could I speak to you for a moment?”

The fluttering of his fan gets a little faster. “Ahhhh hah, but we’re about to get started!! You know how da-ge is, hit the ground running and all that. Can’t it wait?”

“No,” he says with such a poisonously sweet smile and a faux-innocent little tilt of his head that even Wei Wuxian takes a step back, the brothers leaving their best friend high and dry to face his wrath alone. Sensible of them.

He holds his arm out for Nie Huaisang to take and, with no safe alternative options, the other man reluctantly takes it and lets himself be led away from listening ears.

“Now, A-Yao -”

“When were you planning to inform me that my father’s company would also be present at this retreat?”

“Oh good, you already know! So now the answer doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep, A-Sang. I’m in charge of our company’s hotel assignments. I know exactly where to find you.”

“Aiyah you do not, who in the world stays in their own hotel room during company retreats? Well I guess some people have to, But I definitely don’t. I’ve already found myself better accommodation,” he says breezily, flicking his fan shut to tap him on the forearm a couple of times. “And you’ll lighten up a little if you do too! I heard the Lans are coming~,” he adds, his glance at him out of the corner of his eye far too sly. Meng Yao can’t quite resist glaring at him right back. Nie Huaisang just walked headfirst into dangerous territory, but part of him (a very small part of him) can admire that his sort-of-friend, sort-of-employer is daring enough to tease him when he’s clearly irritated.

“You’re horrendous,” he replies sweetly and Nie Huaisang laughs as he turns them around to head back towards where everyone else is gathered.

“Oh hush, stop glaring at me and go find Xichen-ge, stare at him until you feel better. I’ll bet he’s dressed casuallyyyy~~,” he teases as he snaps his fan open again to flutter it and add to the flirtatious lilt in his tone.

“Lan Zhan!!!!” Wei Wuxian suddenly cries loudly enough to carry over the general chatter and in the next instant he goes flying across the spacious hotel lobby, a blur of black and red as Jiang Wanyin shouts after him for him to stop. Nie Huaisang giggles at his side behind his fan as heads turn to watch Wei Wuxian’s progress to where the Lans have stopped to check in.

“Oh perfect timing, and you won’t even have to waste any time searching! Wei-xiong is so useful, don’t you think?”

Meng Yao says nothing, just glares at Nie Huaisang until the man winks over his fan and carefully extricates himself from where their arms are linked to return to Jiang Wanyin’s side to pat his shoulder as the man fumes. Meng Yao sighs and after a moment he follows in the bemused wake Wei Wuxian had left behind himself on his way to his boyfriend. Though the retreat isn’t being held on any participating company’s actual properties, the Nie Corporation is still technically hosting it so it’s not entirely out of character for him to go and greet the new arrivals.

And if Lan Xichen’s smile when their eyes meet makes his frustration with Nie Huaisang and the presence of his own family melt away like snow in spring, then that’s his own business.

----

A few days into the retreat, Nie Mingjue’s patience is at its limit. He hates these things, he can’t remember just why the hell he let Nie Huaisang talk him into hosting this bullshit, but he can’t change it now. At least the Lans agreed to come - without Lan Xichen here to force him to enjoy himself he really would have become too miserable to bother staying for the whole retreat, he would’ve already packed up and dragged Meng Yao home with him to get back to work. Not that it would take much dragging, most likely. Meng Yao is as much of a workaholic as himself, maybe even more of one (which he hadn’t thought was possible prior to meeting him), and the Jins have been extra insufferable to him on top of that. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if Meng Yao was looking for an easy out of the whole affair.

“Oh dear,” Lan Xichen says softly at his side and Nie Mingjue pulls himself out of his ruminations to glance at him and then look at where he’s focusing on only to sigh as he spots Meng Yao being harassed by his horrible cousin - again.

“How long has that spoiled brat been talking to him this time?” Nie Mingjue growls as he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and flexes his fingers a few times. God he’d like to use that asshole’s face as a punching bag. Mostly because he feels like Meng Yao would appreciate it and Nie Mingjue is maybe slightly too interested in doing things that make Meng Yao get that pleased little smirk on his face. But in his defense it’s also because he’s seen that smirking face far too many times to not want to rearrange it a little. If it happens to be because he’s bothering Meng Yao then that’s the perfect excuse, just two birds with one stone.

“About a minute, but it seems that’s long enough to behave unpleasantly,” Lan Xichen sighs, crossing his arms over his chest in a rare show of open disapproval, his lips turned down in an uncharacteristic frown. “What could he and his friends possibly have to bother him about now?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I’m gonna beat the shit out of him, I’m tired of this.”

“Mingjue!” Lan Xichen cautions with a sudden grip on his arm. “Please, don’t embarrass A-Yao and make a scene, it won’t help him.”

“Well what do you want me to do?! We can’t just leave him over there.”

“Ah...I believe we are not his only knights in shining armor,” Lan Xichen says, suddenly sounding amused and Nie Mingjue follows his gaze again to see Wei Wuxian, of all people, shoving his way through the crowd looking positively gleeful at the sign of trouble brewing, Lan Wangji trailing along behind him as serenely as ever. Such a weird pair, in his opinion. And of course, because it’s Wei Wuxian, his voice carries perfectly over the general hubbub of people chatting and the clink of carabiners from the people currently scaling the rock wall they’re all supposed to be taking turns climbing.

“Meng Yao!” Wei Wuxian cries and Nie Mingjue can see the man in question’s shoulders tighten all the way from here as Wei Wuxian throws his arm around them to lounge against him. “Are you holding back to spare the rest of us from having to watch you kick our asses without breaking a sweat? Oh. Hey asswipe.”

“Wei Wuxian!”

Nie Mingjue snickers just a little at the scandalized tone in Jin Zixun’s voice, and even Lan Xichen chuckles softly next to him.

“Yeah? Hi uh...hm. Can’t say I remember your name, Jin something-or-other, right? No, don’t tell me, it doesn’t matter and I want to keep thinking your name is ‘Asswipe’.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“Problem? I don’t have one. What’s yours?”

Lan Wangji says something then, far too low to carry the way Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixun’s voices do, but whatever it is makes Wei Wuxian laugh and turn to Meng Yao. He lets go of him to turn and face Meng Yao fully, putting his back to Jin Zixun, but whatever he says next is lost in the noise of someone reaching the top of the wall and hitting the buzzer. 

“Are you sure we should trust whatever Wei Wuxian just did to solve this?” Nie Mingjue grumbles, already knowing what his best friend’s answer will be.

“He’s a good man,” Lan Xichen replies, because of course he does. “I trust him wholeheartedly, and it’s a good solution don’t you think? Everyone expects him to make a scene anyway, A-Yao need not be embarrassed about being rescued if it’s him.”

“Are we sure he even fixed whatever’s going on?” Nie Mingjue watches Meng Yao square his shoulders and step up to take a spot next to one of the employees at the rock wall and he can’t help but frown, still concerned. “A-Yao didn’t want to participate.”

But then he’s quickly strapped into a harness around his hips and thighs and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just….watch...for a second...

Lan Xichen’s slightly choked noise at his side is all the confirmation he needs that they’re in agreement. 

Nie Mingjue tears his eyes away from Meng Yao just long enough to see that he’s lined up with the rest of the Jin employees that are in attendance and he blinks as he realizes what’s going on.

“This is Wei Wuxian’s solution?” he snaps. “To put A-Yao up against his stupid cousin and his cronies? He’s supposed to get A-Yao away from them!”

“Patience, Mingjue, trust Wei Wuxian’s methods, he knows what he’s doing,” Lan Xichen soothes, returning his hand to his arm though he still hasn’t looked away from Meng Yao as the man listens to the instructions and allows himself to be fitted with a rope attached to the front of the harness.

“You just like seeing A-Yao tied up.”

“Mm. Multiple things can be true at once.” 

Nie Mingjue snorts at that but shakes his head in defeat and goes back to watching, staying still as Lan Xichen subtly steps closer to him and tucks his hand into the crook of his elbow as the start timer counts down from five.

Whatever Nie Mingjue was expecting before the competition started, it certainly wasn’t what ends up happening as soon as the buzzer sounds.

His eyes go wide as he watches Meng Yao instantly take the lead by putting his foot above his head and launching himself a full body-length up the wall while everyone else is still trying to find their first handhold.

“Oh my god,” Lan Xichen breathes at his side and Nie Mingjue is in full agreement. Meng Yao practically flies up the wall, taking the lead by miles simply by virtue of skipping over at least five footholds at a time to get to the highest one he can reach - which is never lower than rib- or shoulder-height.

Nie Mingjue has never seen anything like it and he can’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t even hesitate, he just makes these impossible jumps and pulls until he smacks the buzzer at the top and turns to sit on the top of the wall, feet dangling and the dimples in his cheeks visible even from this distance as he grins down at the others still halfway down the rest of the wall.

“Oh shit,” it’s Nie Mingjue’s turn to exclaim as Meng Yao wiggles his fingers in a little wave while Jin Zixun slips and falls a few feet before tension gets applied to his rope, leaving him dangling in front of the hardest course on the wall like a sack of turnips.

“That was..oh my.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So flexible,” Nie Huaisang pipes up suddenly from his other side and Nie Mingjue doesn’t yelp but he comes close.

“Huaisang!!”

“Hi da-ge, er-ge. Enjoying the view? It’s very scenic.”

“Don’t be crude, A-Sang,” Lan Xichen chastises without any heat and Nie Huaisang snorts.

“I’m not the one checking out Meng Yao’s ass like a couple of creeps. He’ll want a drink this evening, by the way - he hates dealing with his family.” Nie Huaisang leans forward to look up pointedly first at him and then at Lan Xichen next to him. “Maybe even two drinks.”

“I can feel you winking at me, A-Sang,” Lan Xichen says with a smirk without taking his eyes off Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang laughs behind his fan. 

“Good, then we’re on the same page! Does this mean I should tell Wei-xiong not to talk him into going up there again or do you need more convincing?”

Nie Mingjue coughs at that and does his best to glare. “No one said he has to stop. If he wants to go again to prove his point to that smarmy jackass cousin of his then who are we to stop him?”

“Subtle, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang drawls. He stretches his arms above his head with a little sigh before he steps away to look at them over his shoulder with a sly wink. “As many times as he’s willing to go, then? Noted, I’ll let Wei-xiong know right away,” he teases and then he’s off with a laugh.

“Well. That was..”

“We’re definitely buying him drinks tonight, right?” Nie Mingjue checks and Lan Xichen’s responding hum is perfectly easy to interpret as they watch Meng Yao rappel down the wall and set up to go again. “Good.”

[thewritingstar]

The Freedom of Being Yours

This was a commission done for the wonderful @creativecilla Im so excited that its finally done and I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for commissioning me and putting up with all my questions lol. 

Pairing: Reds/Blossick (Brick x Blossom)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Word Count: 7.8k (this was meant to be a 1k fit but I couldn’t resist!) 

Angst/Fluff 

Note: thank you to my betas for all their help: @over-under-through1 and @avesthetea

---

On November 17, 1898, early in the morning, a baby girl was born. A soft tuft of red hair rested on her temple and instead of a shrill cry, only a smile was on her small little lips. The only word to define the pink-eyed darling was perfection. There was nothing that could dull the light that sparkled in her eyes.

At the beginning of the year, where she would turn five, everything had been fine. She got to sit and play with her two younger sisters and listen to them babble about nothing as the small creek in the back of their house flowed softly over the rocks.

Life was delicate and sweet. Her mother and father would adore her with presents and toys and even the occasional jewel, yet they often found her perched under a tree or hidden at the creek with a book, much too big for anyone her age to be reading.

Blossom had thought about the stories of travel and adventure. It was freeing and delightful and she had once believed that she and her sisters would live those same lives, of their own deciding. She wanted to see the world and not the same backdrop of her tiny town. Her life would be filled with all sorts of adventures.

But she had been wrong.

Instead of playing outside, she was forced into the study with books that didn’t spark her imagination like the ones before. Her mother was keen on her looking her best and forced her ginger hair into a tightly pulled ponytail or braid and her father wanted her to be enlightened but only because she was the oldest and he didn’t have the luxury of a son.

Just a little before her fifth birthday, she had taught herself to read high literature and how to write complex sentences and even beat out her father in a game of chess. She had also learned from a young age that she would not have the freedom of her sisters, a hard pill to swallow for such a young girl.

♥♥

As the candles became lit on her fifth birthday, everything changed. She was allowed a very small group of friends, yet she hadn’t recognized the boy coming over to her table. He said nothing as he set the pretty pink present down with everything but amusement. His frown was consistent throughout the night and although most noticed his attitude, Blossom couldn’t help but stare at his eyes.

They were the shade of a freshly cut ruby and just as stone cold. Through the blank stares of all the attendants, his was by far the most interesting. They rivaled and complemented the majestic pink of her own iris’s.

He hadn’t said anything to her until he found her sitting away from the party, hidden behind the house with a book open. He thought she had been weird, what little girl missed her own party? He should have turned around but he found himself standing in front of her, toes almost touching.

“You can read?” He blurted out and the soft color of pink graced his presence.

Blossom looked up and her eyebrows drew in. “Taught myself.” She spoke proudly and was slightly surprised when he sat down next to her. “What’s your name?”

“Why do you care?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and held her eye roll. “Because it's my party.”

The boy shrugged. “Fair enough. It’s Brick.”

“Brick.” She whispered to herself. “Why did you come out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?”

He glanced towards the creek. “Shouldn’t the birthday girl be entertaining her guests?”

She closed her book before getting up and smoothing out her light pink dress. “I suppose.” He got up and followed her to the house.

Before they reached the porch, they could hear the commotion from inside and Brick noticed the annoyance on Blossom’s face but chose not to say anything. Even with their young age, they both knew not to speak up and out.

As they walked through the entrance of the house, Brick spotted a chess set in a smaller room off to the side. He gently tugged on her sleeve making her turn as he nodded towards the board.

“You play?” He asked and she only smirked and picked up a piece.

“I'm the best.” She challenged, and soon they were engaged in a long game of chess, ignoring the rest of the party.

Her eyes sparkled as she picked up a piece, her shoulder straightened as she looked into his eyes.

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked and for the first time that night, his lips turned up into a small smile as he reset the board.

♥♥

The older Blossom got, the tougher her parents were. The yelling and the scolding had become so much that when it occurred, she had learned to take it with a stoic face and never let her lips quiver even as she was breaking inside.

The demands to be perfect in every aspect had led her to be a sufficient dancer, baker, and everything else a lady was meant to do. From the time the sun rose to its setting, she was given a constant stream of scolding which left little time with her sisters

She had thought that she had become a master of hiding her emotions when she had turned fifteen. Her mind was taken over by books and knowledge she found rather useless. The friends she had were more of annoyances as she kept to herself most of the time. If she wasn’t using the same three books to escape her life, she was down by the creek or walking along the rose gardens of her family's estate.

It wasn’t until a random visit by Brick's family got her attention. She came down the stairs and saw him standing there, his brothers already out in the back paying her sisters attention. It had been a few years since she saw him at a summer party, they had played chess for most of it but other than that, their friendship was surface level at best.

“Brick.” She said as kindly as she possibly could praying that he didn’t notice the redness around her eyes and the flush of her cheeks.

He gave her a slight nod. “Blossom.”

She noticed that he had grown taller, just a few inches over her and that puberty was treating him well. Even though he looked slightly unrecognizable, those eyes of crimson were still the same.  

Without another word spoken between them, they followed their parents to the living room that had a grand fireplace. She took her seat next to her mother on the couch, just opposite of Brick who rested in an armchair near his father. A chill ran down her spine as she knew what they would be discussing. Brick tried to catch her eye, maybe to go for a game of chess or to the book room but she avoided him just as her mother spoke up.

“I think now is as good as anytime to discuss this.” Her mother said and Brick’s parents agreed.

“Blossom, Brick. After her eighteen birthday, you will be married by spring.” Blossom’s father said sternly.

She felt her body go rigid as the words flooded her mind. Slowly her eyes made their way to Brick’s. He was also frozen and his lips were pulled into a tight line. She could see the way his fists clenched the chair and her soul nearly left her body when he met her gaze.

She tried searching his face for any form of emotion. Anger, sadness, whatever he was feeling, he wasn’t going to show it. But for some reason, her heart sank when he stood and nodded before excusing himself and leaving the room.

Blossom’s mother turned towards her. “You should go.” She said coldly before turning back towards the others. She stood with silence and left.

She found him in the kitchen. A glass of water in his hand and him looking out the window. It was clear as day that he was angry and upset. She couldn’t blame him. Every aspect of their lives had been planned out and she was a fool to expect that she would marry for love.

His shoulder became tense as she stood next to him, taking a glass for herself. They were silent, what could you say? It was a hard pill to swallow at their age and it seemed as if the threads of their personal freedoms were being cut faster and faster.

As much as Blossom abided by her parents wishes, she knew deep down, this was where lines were drawn. She took a deep breath as she looked out the window. She saw her little sister, Bubbles, running after a dragonfly while Buttercup pushed Brick’s brother down. Brick’s blonde brother watched Bubbles spin and laugh and smiled with her.

Blossom watched and her own smile came to her face. The image of her little sisters marrying someone they loved and cherished, melted her heart but reality came back to her as she glanced towards Brick.

“You’re free to go.” She whispered, his head snapping towards her and meeting the pink eyes.

“What?” He asked.

“I won’t force you to be mine. No matter our parents wishes, you are free to do as you please.”

He let out a dry laugh. “You know that’s not possible.”

“Maybe not.” She felt her tears coming but pushed them down. “We can be, or well, we will be married but you do not have to give your heart over to me, I won’t be angry.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t understand.”

Blossom looked away and back to her sisters. “You are free to do as you please. Court any lady you seem fit. My parents might hold you by a chain but I won’t. All I ask is that by the time we are to be wed, nothing is shown to the public to cause a scene or you find a way out.”

Brick thought about it before finishing his drink. “Same to you.” He extended his hand to her and she nodded before shaking it and sealing their deal.

He eyed the front room. “Game of chess?” He smirked.

“Don’t get mad when I beat you.” She matched his expression before passing him and heading to set up their board.

♥♥

As months rolled on, Brick was at Blossom’s estate more and more. Their parents were so content with them being together that parties would be hosted almost every other week, and when Blossom turned sixteen, they had announced the engagement.

They each were given a ring that would be exchanged at the wedding. She stayed up that night, tossing and turning in her bed as she held the box. The golden band that was meant for him was stunning to the random eye but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Unlike the pristine gold, it looked like a rusted chain one would put on a prisoner. It didn’t scream beauty or wealth to her but mocked her like a dog left in the rain. She had thought about going into town and meeting with other potential suitors, maybe even rekindling a few friendships from her younger years, but the further she fantasized about falling in love, the more pain was brought to her heart.

The days after her sixteenth birthday had left her with nothing but a hollow heart and false realities. It became very clear that she would hurt herself more in the process of finding her heart than to sit quietly. She closed the ring box and put it into her desk and wiped away her bitter tears.

There was no point in wishing on stars if they all died and fell from the sky.

----

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked as she placed the final piece on the chess board.

Brick only scoffed before rearranging the pieces, another game after another. Chess and checkers was a small escape from their harsh reality. He made a move and then she did hers. Back and fourth is how it went. By the fourth game, they had an even score and her eyes would find the window again.

She didn’t know if Brick had started looking around for other girls in secret but she didn’t bother to ask, it didn’t matter anyways. As he made a move, she studied his face. He was handsome no doubt and extremely smart too. One of the only people to match her in everything and there was a sense of comfort in knowing she could quote something from a book and he would match it without hesitation. She knew he wouldn’t have a problem finding a partner to keep him company, it would be better that way.

“Bet the creek is cold.” He said randomly and brought her from the wild thoughts.

Her eyes met his and she only placed her piece down gently. “I wouldn’t know.” She quipped. She had never once let herself go into the small river, she could only imagine the uproar her mother would have if she found her doing something fun.

Brick looked towards the clock before standing. “Our parents are still in town for another two hours, even if they leave now.” She hadn’t understood what he was asking before he held his hand out.

Her eyes widened at the thought of her disobeying her parents orders and yet her fingers wrapped around his and soon she was running behind him towards the hidden creek on the east side of the house. The wind wrapped through her long hair and she felt like she could breathe clearer than ever before.

Giggles escaped her lips as he jumped down from the path and onto the small bank before turning and kicking off his shoes. She looked around to see an easier way to get down. Her dress would cause problems if she were to jump and she was scared of hurting herself.

Brick saw the hesitation in her and stepped forward with his arms stretched out.

“Blossoms just jump.” He said before widening his stance to show he would catch her.

Her eyes widened at the statement. “No, I can’t.” Her voice shook and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on. I promise I’ll catch you.”

She gulped. “Promise” And when he nodded, she believed him. His small smile gave her ease and Blossom took off her flats before tossing them down next to his.

She took a breath before letting her feet come off the ground. Right as a small scream left her lips, she felt a sensation she had never encountered before. This idea and embodiment of immunity came over her as she leapt. She felt like nothing bad could ever happen as she fell into his arms with ease.

A strange embrace of warmth she never quite experienced rushed through her as he tightened his hold on her, carrying her like a precious flower.

“Hey.” He whispered, his voice never being this soft as her eyes opened to see the swirl of red closer than before. Her breath had caught in her throat as he had a smile on. He rarely smiled but when he did, she thought it was the most enchanting thing she had ever seen. “See? Caught you.”

A laugh came out as he began to walk and she buried her face into his neck, praying that he didn’t drop her. “Don’t let me go.” She warned him and she felt the vibration of his laugh.

“Relax. Open your eyes.” He whispered in her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was him looking at her. The sun glowed behind him like some sort of halo and her breath caught in her throat when he gave her a smile. She hadn’t realized just how many freckles kissed his skin in the summer sun and she blinked and brought herself back from getting lost in his eyes.

She gazed at the surroundings and saw that his feet had disappeared into the shallow water. Slowly she stretched her legs out until she felt the cool water kiss the tips of her toes. It had shocked her slightly as she forced her foot into the water to stand with him, his arm still around her waist as she held the rim of her dress to not let it get soaked.

“It's cold.” She giggled and she took a step and felt the slippy feeling of the rocks below her. Slowly she walked out of his grasp and carefully went further.

“Don’t slip.” He called from behind as he followed.

Blossom smiled to herself as she looked at the water and saw small fish swimming around. She had never known what flowers grew along the bank or how the breeze was stronger down here.

Her eyes found the clouds rolling above them and she took a step before she felt her foot slid up and found herself falling backwards.

“Ahh-” She let out before she felt the familiar pair of arms holding her up just above the water.

“Told ya to be careful Pink.” He smirked and she only rolled her eyes as he lifted her up and carried her towards the bank.

“I could walk ya know.” She protested but his grip tightened as he stepped over a few small logs and set her onto the sand.

“You would fall again.” He laughed before it fell into the normal frown. “We should head back before our parents return.

The sensation of immunity had faded as she grabbed her shoes and followed him back towards the house which felt colder than the water. That night she laid awake in her bed. The ceiling texture mimicked the way the ripples on the water’s surface and she hugged her blanket to her chest as she kept the memory of joy in secret. It was the first thing her parents couldn’t take from her.

♥♥

After that moment at the creek, the pair began to sneak off more and more as their parents went to town. The chess board was left untouched as they ran towards the river or found hidden garden spots.

It was liberating even if it was as simple as blowing the fuzz off a dandelion. They would run and twirl in the fields, playing like two small children on a summer's day before they fixed their hair and returned to their chess board, keeping their outings a secret.

She learned about his dreams and his deepest fears. Sailing the world and snakes, to be exact. She showed him how to braid his hair and when he wasn’t looking, she would place small flowers in between the strands.

For some reason every time she saw his family arriving at the gates or her own going to his estate, she felt ecstatic. Maybe it was because he was the only one in her world who understood her but even through the sarcastic statements or small taunts, she enjoyed spending time with him more and more.

♥♥

Another year passes by and then another. And before the new set of snow could fall, it was her eighteenth birthday.

She stood in her mirror, still looking at the crack she made all that time ago. She pushed away any thoughts that damn crack dared to resurface and care more about fixing her hair. Pulling her long waves into a ponytail, she wrapped her red ribbon around it. Out of all the jewels and fancy items, this simple silk was her most prized possession. A reminder of her happier days when she was little.

Her pink gove fit her like a perfect chiffon glove and she had to admit that she looked beautiful. She never took much pride in her vanity but on occasion, she would spoil herself with an indulging complement.

A deep breath was taken as she left her room and walked slowly to the stairs where a house full of guests awaited. As soon as her foot hit the bottom of the stairs, a round of applause filled the room and it took her a second to realize that they were clapping for her. Pink dusted her cheeks as she gave a small curtsity and was pulled in every which way to be congratulated on another year of life.

Like her other parties, she barely knew the people there and most were well above her age. She took herself to the ballroom where many guests had already taken up the floor and were spinning and laughing as the music played.

A tap was on her shoulder and she felt relieved knowing that he was here but her heart sank as it was someone she hardly recalled.

“Blossom.” He smiled politely and held out his hand.

Her smile was pulled into a thin line as she took his hand, her mother taught her never to decline a dance. He pulled her closer than what she had liked and smiled at her again.

“Jared.” She said through gritted teeth as she did her best not to groan. She remembered him from random encounterings at other parties. Loud and obnoxious and arrogant, yet he didn’t have the brains to back any of it up. He liked to bother Blossom on occasion and unfortunately, now was the time.

His hand rested on her back, lower than what should have been acceptable. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they danced.

“Ya know Blossom, I heard about your engagement.Congrats”

“That was announced years ago.’ She said sharply. As they danced, she saw Brick across the room. He was dancing with some girl she hadn’t seen.

The girl laughed loudly as she pulled him closer and Blossom couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or not, but after the third eye roll, she predicted the latter. Something inside her felt odd as she watched her move her hand to his neck and whisper something.

In a flash, as if he knew, Brick turned his head and their eyes locked. She watched as his eyes narrowed slightly before Jared took her ungiven attention.

Jared chuckled. “And yet he’s dancing with another woman.” He leaned in so that only she could hear what he said next. “You still have a few months until the wedding and no one has seen you two being all that close.” He smirked. “I’d doubt he’d mind.” And she felt his hand travel lower.

Blossom gasped and pushed herself off of him. “Are you out of your mind?” She sneered before lifting her hand and bringing it to his cheek. The sound echoing across the room for everyone to hear and suddenly all eyes were on her and the boy holding his cheek. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I offer you a good time and this is what I get?” Jared scoffed.

Blossom huffed before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She glanced to the side to see Brick next to her. He looked angry and annoyed.

“I suggest you apologize to her.” Brick stated.

Jared’s eyes widened in fear. “Look man I didn’t mean anything towards your girl.” he held his hands up in defense.

Brick took a step forward. He was clearly a few inches taller and a bead of sweat formed on Jareds forehead. He looked down on the now shaking boy. “The fact that you think I would be entitled to her is foolish. No matter her status or anything personal, you don’t just force yourself on a woman or anyone for that matter. So I would be on my knees begging for forgiveness.” He took him by the collar. “And if you ever disrespect my future wife again, I’ll throw you to the wolves.”

Jared’s face turned a sickly white color as Brick removed his hands from him and took a step towards Blossom.

“My apologies Blossom.” Jared looked at his feet.

A smile came onto Blossom’s face. “Get out.” She hissed before turning and holding her head up high. She passed a butler. “The party is done.”

“Of course Miss.” The butler said as he started to escort the guests to the front of the house.

Blossom passed her parents without an explanation and headed outside where the sun had begun to set. All she wanted to do was clear her head as she rested against a random wall. She brought her hand up to her hair and let the long waves fall around her shoulders. Tears threatened to spill but she didn’t want any of that.

“I never got a dance.”

Blossom looked to see Brick standing there.

“What?” She questioned. “Oh. Sorry.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t worry. Sorry your party got cut short but nice punch.”

She forced a smile while staring at her hand. “Thanks, he deserved it.”

“Without a doubt.”

She saw that his elastic was around his wrist and his hair was down and out of place. Without thinking, she took it and began to braid his hair. He didn’t say anything but let her do as she pleased. She got to the end and saw the small bush of white daisies and grabbed one, plopping it into his hair and standing back in front of him.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

A cooler breeze came by making her hold her arms. “Um, thanks for standing up for me.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He shrugged and saw the saw she shivered slightly. He took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. “But I guess you could make it up with a dance?” He held out his hand and she took it.

“I didn’t think you wanted one.” She said lightly She went back to the girl who had kept him occupied all night. She was gorgeous no doubt and even from across the room, Blossom could tell she was drowning in wealth.

Brick narrowed his eyes before he caught on. Realization flooded his face as he spun Blossom. “You mean Princess.” He sounded disgusted to say the least.

“I guess. Friend of yours?”

“A fling in the past if you could even call it that.”

“Oh.” Her voice just above a whisper. “She seems nice.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, Blossom coming back from the spin and her chest flush against his. “I wouldn’t call bragging about her dad's money nice. More of an air head that got lucky to be born into money. She can’t even play chess.”

“But she’s pretty.” She mumbled.

Brick moved his hand from her upper back to her lower back and leaned until his lips touched her ear. “Beauty isn’t everything, I prefer depth.” Suddenly she was spun and her back to his chest. “But I think your beauty beats all.”

Her cheeks heated up and she brushed away the compliment. “Depth can get you in trouble.” She responded just as she faced him again. “Pretty things can give you money...freedom too.”

He lifted her arm and she spun under him. He then closed their gap before dipping her gracefully.  “Sometimes freedom is right where you are.” He spoke sincerely and when she came back up, he was barely a inch away. His eyes had softened and the way his lips turned into a smile made her heart beat rapidly.

The way he looked at her, was almost canny to the day at the creek. Something within her was pulling her closer to him like a magnet and she couldn’t bear to stop herself.

“I’d never let another man talk to you like that, I promise.” He said softly.

And then she did the unthinkable and kissed him. It was a magnifying spark that coursed through her body and broke down whatever wall she had been holding. But when she realized what she had done, an uncertain silence froze over them and saw the way his eyes widened in what she could only sense as fear.

“I-I’m sorry-” She tried to say but was cut off by his lips coming to hers again. Her hands fell to his shoulders, one cupping his cheek as he pulled her closer. His lips were soft and it was like time had stopped in that moment. Everything bad that had happened in the past, melted away like the snow bringing in a spring she never knew she craved.

His lips were soft and left a cold longing feeling as he pulled away, nose brushing hers. “You never have to apologize, I am yours.”

The tears she was going to shed in anger had turned to pure bliss but as she was about to confess her heart to him, the door opened and she heard the loud shouting of her mother.

Fear sunk in as she watched her mother come from the corner. “Blossom.” She said with spitfire and Brick’s hold tightened on her. “You two are done.” She snapped.

“What?” Blossom shook in his hold.

“Jared’s father said he wouldn’t press charges in exchange for Blossom’s hand.” She smiled wickedly. “I’m sorry Brick, you’re a nice boy but sometimes life isn’t fair and plus, he has more money. The wedding is off.” Her mother spat and left leaving Blossom and Brick with mouths hanging open in shock.

Brick held her. “Blossom?”

“I can’t marry him.” She shook her head.

When his eyes met hers, his heart broke. The bright pink he had grown fond of over the years had seen to fade. It was replaced by a stone cold gaze that only broke on occasion.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “You won’t. I promise.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Blossom!” Her mother's voice called. “Come here!”

They looked towards the call and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry.” She started to walk. “But for the record, you made the darkest corners of this house feel bright.”

Brick stood in the garden frozen as she left. His own eyes betraying him as tears danced on his waterline. He heard his own name being called behind him. He returned to his parents side, still feeling the spark of the kiss lingering on his lips.

♥♥

She closed the door to her room before she turned until her back was pressed against the wood. Slowly she slid down and hugged her knees to her chest. The tears that came came from an emotion she had never experienced before. As if all the breath in her lungs was gone, she sobbed.

She lost count of the amount of times she had sat with no light but moons and sobbed. The pain her parents had caused her. The insults and ridicule, all of it would be gone by the time the sun would kiss the horizon but this, this cold chill that made her feel hopeless. It was far worse than their taunts.

The way Brick had stared at her. His eyes slightly wide as if he was shocked by how she looked. His expression when he saw her had changed over the years and she wished she had noticed sooner.

But now it is gone. Her parents made sure of that. It was all a game. Her parents had laid out their chess board, counting their moves and every time she felt like she had a chance, she was forced back into her corner as they picked up the piece and moved it themselves.

But for that split second that she looked into his eyes, the game had stopped. The old grandfather clock that hung on the wall had silenced its ticking and she, for however long she got to gaze into those crimson eyes, saw freedom.

And now it is gone. The small gleam of light she saw within him had been extinguished before it had a chance to grow into a blooming fire.

“Blossom?” A voice called behind her.

She picked up her head and whimpered.

“Blossy?” Another voice said again and she brought her hand to her eyes as she stood with shaking legs and opened the door. Bubbles and Buttercup stood with concerning looks before walking in and shutting the door.

“Blossy-” Bubbles hugged her tight. “Why are you crying?” She asked with her own sadness.

The last thing Blossom wanted was her sisters to be upset, so she shook her head and forced a smile that they didn’t buy at all. “I’m okay.”

“Clearly not. What happened?” Buttercup asked as they sat Blossom on the bed. “The party ended all of a sudden and no one knows why. Was it because of Brick?”

“No!” Blossom reassured her. “It wasn’t his doing.”

“Oh, then why are you upset? Did he not want to be with you?” Bubbles hugged her.

Blossom hugged her back. “No. He did. And I wanted to marry him too.”

“But?” Buttercup asked.

Blossom took a deep breath. “Mother decided that another man would be better for me, one that I don’t love. It’s a hard pill to swallow but I’ll be okay.” She tried to be strong.

“That’s not fair!” Bubbles weeped. “Blossy you deserve to be happy.”

Buttercups fists tightened at her side. “It's not.” She got off the bed. “Come on Bubbles, Blossoms had enough tears for the night.”

Blossom gave her little sisters a smile as they left.

♥♥

The next week was spent with Blossom walking slower than she noticed to her parents office. Her face was almost permanently puffy from the tears she had shed for the few days and neither of her parents had given any care. She was sitting at her mother's desk, silent and still. There was no reason to scream and run, hope had been lost.

“Look at that.” her mother quipped as she passed a piece of golden paper to her.

She picked it up and her blood ran cold.

‘An invitation to Princess and Brick’s wedding, how lovely.” Her mother smiled.

Blossom could see it now. The couple saying their vows and dancing the night away and she wondered if he had the choice to run away, would he? She had learned that Princess was an heir to more money this town had seen and quite beautiful too.

“She’ll make him happy.” Blossom lied knowing that she shouldn’t discredit his feelings. Afterall depth was what he liked most. “I wonder what’s that like?”

“What?”

“Happiness.” Blossom said. Her mother met her eyes. “Are you a happy mother?”

“Happiness comes in many forms.”

“And yet the only time I’ve seen you smile, is when it comes from the suffering of me or my sisters. You were given the sweetest little girls who offer nothing but unconditional love but instead of basking in their own light, you chose to block it out. I hope that when they are old enough, they never have to face the same life as mine.”

“You live in this gorgeous house-”

“With no heart or warmth. Vacant like a ghost town. How could you be proud of something so grand, yet broken at the seams? I am thankful for the upbringing on the fairer side of this society but I wish I had the love others have. Sometimes I wonder if a golden spoon is really worth more than a hug.”

Her mother stared coldly. “Do you think happiness gets you far in this world? Do you think that I spent years building up my reputation to be disrespected by my daughter?”

“There is no disrespect because I don’t see you as my mother and I would rather die tomorrow knowing I was in the presence of someone I love then spend the rest of my years, trapped to a man who could care less about my heart.” Blossom stood and grabbed the invitation and stood.

A cold dark laugh came from her mother. “Life isn’t a fairytale. You think that anyone would want to marry you out of love? Even if you are smart enough to know that, he’s going to wed by the end of the week. You have no money, and nothing to offer. What good would it be to beg?” Her mother stood and came towards her, arms stretched out. “Darling, just make life easier for everyone.”

Blossom took a step back. Her shoulder straightened up and she held her head high. “Thats where you’re wrong, mother. I can offer him my heart, something only I can give.”

“Love can’t give you everything.” She spat.

Blossom shook her head and offered a sympathetic smile. “I wish you knew that love can give you freedom and joy even with despair around.” She turned and began walking, her mother not bothering to follow or stop her.

♥♥

Blossom stared at her ceiling, a small white daisy in her hand as she tried to think of what to do. She hardly heard her door open and the shuffle of two sets of shoes.

“Bubbles, Buttercup? It's late, you should be in bed.”

“Shhh. Be quiet.” Bubbles smiled.

“You should go to him.” Buttercup said and Bubbles handed her a bag.

“He loves you and you love him Blossy!”

Blossom sighed. “I can’t just stop his wedding.”

Buttercup laughed. “Sure you can. Go in there and confess your love for him.”

Bubbles nodded. “Or you should meet him before. Run away with him, far from this place.”

Blossom looked between her sisters before they hugged her.

“We will be fine, please just go.”

“Okay.” Blossom agreed.

♥♥

Brick stood in the mirror. His suit was pristine and fit for any king and although he looked fine, deep down he was full of dread.

The moment Blossom’s parents called off their engagement, his own parents wasted no time looking for a suitor. Out of some convenience, Princess hadn’t been engaged and her father was loaded beyond belief that when the opportunity presented itself, his family jumped on it.

He didn’t know if he could ever truly love Princess and she probably wouldn’t love him but he knew there were worse things in life that could happen. Except for the heartbreak that came with the ring. His own brothers couldn’t get through to him and he felt hopeless. How do you go from loving someone, to never seeing them again?

There was a knock on his door and it made him shiver.

“Come in.” He said and the door opened just as soft as the knock.

He turned around to see Blossom standing there. A content look on her face as she looked him over, the desperation clear in her eyes. “You look nice.” She said and he could tell her voice was on the verge of breaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“To see you, one last time.” She said. She walked towards him and adjusted his skewed tie. “Or maybe not.” Her hands rested on his chest.

“Maybe not?”

She gazed at him with glassy eyes. “When they announced our engagement, I thought I lost any hope of freedom I had left. I thought that you would resent me for being chained to you and that's why I told you that you could leave. And I tried to tell myself not to fall in love because it wouldn’t be fair or it would hurt too much.” She stepped back. “But when I cried myself to sleep or stared at the moon until the sun came up, I realized that in those moments I tried to stop, I was falling faster than I anticipated.”

Brick watched as she took something from her bag. “I think I did too.”

She giggled at that. “When I read all those books about true love and how you see stars in the other person's eyes, I look at you and I see happiness and bliss.” Tears dripped down her cheeks slowly. “Even in the darkest corners of my house, I found indulgence and light with you.” Blossom said.

Brick brought his hand to her cheek, wiping the tears away. “I have spent years pondering these feelings. Wondering what else my parents could take from me. They could take my spirit and my time. Steal my childhood of playing in the creek or chasing the fireflies but Miss Blossom.” He took her hand. “They might have thought that forcing you upon as my wife without a moment of thought would be the cruelest thing they could do, but taking you away was pure anguish.”

Brick shook his head with a dry laugh. “It was the creek, when we had escaped for just a short while. When you stood on that ledge and jumped into my arms, I don’t know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes sparkled when you stepped in the water and everything after that-” He stopped to gather his thoughts but she placed her hand on his arm.

“I know it’s selfish of me to ask you this as there is another waiting for you hand downstairs. Although I can’t give you the same welah or land she may be able to provide. I give you my heart and my faith. Every fragment of my being is dedicated to you and all I can ask is if you could accept that of me? If you could choose to follow your heart and give me the honor of loving you for who you are, would you?” She asked as she held out the small box that contained the golden band that was meant for him.

He looked up at her, pure adoration on his face as he kissed her hand.  “I give my heart to you. The most suitable woman for me is not one with money or a legacy for her parents to uphold. But a kind and innocent lady who has a mind full of knowledge and dreams. On your command, I will take you far from this place, away from the criticism of our family and give you a life where you can run free and have every opinion of your very own. I promise that you will never spend another cold night wondering what lies beyond the paths of the forest and I promise you that I will love you, not because I am forced but because I choose to.”

“I choose you too.” She sobbed as he took her by the waist and kissed her.

He felt her smile against his lips and that same magnetic spark that came the first time they had kissed returned in an instant. Their kiss was more magical than the first snowfall of the season or that of a shooting star.

They pulled away and she saw the way his eyes looked brighter than they ever had before, like a new life had instantly sparked. He took her hand and threw off his tie.

“Come on, I know a place we can go.” He said with a giant smile.

Without gestation she followed him, leaving her past behind and welcoming the new warmth of her life. They ran from the back of the church to his parked car down by the field and he helped her in and kissed her again and again.

‘I love you.” She whispered in between his lips capturing hers.

“I love you more, Blossom.”

As the key sparked the car to life, and they drove to who knows where, she glanced at him and saw not only freedom, happiness and bliss but a man who loved her for every aspect of her being. Something no one could ever take from her again.

“Say Princess is going to be really pissed.” He laughed.

“I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “I told Jared that there was a hot rich girl at the church.”

Brick chuckled and slid his arm around Blossom’s shoulder. “That solves that problem.”

♥♥

Three months later

“Checkmate.” Blossom smiled proudly as she took the final piece. Normal Brick would scoff or playfully pout but instead the competitive side wasn’t showing.

He stared at her longingly as she began to set up a new game.

“It’s almost like you let me win.” She glared. “Is something wrong?”

Brick chuckled and shook his head. “No. everything is perfect.” He stood and walked over to her side of the table and kneeled down and took her hands away from the chess board.

“Brick?”

“You’ve always been better at chess then me. Even if we tied, I knew your strategy was beyond compare. However, no matter how many times you take my pawns or steal my queen, I already won.”

“You already won?” She questioned with a laugh.

She watched him reach into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Its golden latch was opened to reveal a pink pearl ring. A gasp escaped her lips as he took out the ring.

“Blossom, there's not enough words or love stories to perfectly say how I feel about you. All I know is that I love you, on our own terms and see you as someone greater than the world knows. If you will do my honor, Blossom, will you marry me?” He asked.

“Of course.” She cried out and slipped the ring onto her finger as she grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. He smiled against her lips and lifted her up, carrying her to the small couch in their small home.

It wasn’t grand or had a ballroom. There was no elegant garden or parties thrown. Instead it was cozy and full of a loveable warmth. It rivaled everything they were taught, yet it gave them a happiness only the lucky could have.

“Hey.” She whispered. “I found something the other day.” She jumped up and grabbed his hand. He followed her to the backyard that seemed to stretch for miles.

The sun was high in the sky as they walked along the dirt path through some trees. Bushes of daisies and roses grew wild along the path and they stopped at the edge.

He looked down and his smile grew bigger. “A creek.”

She playfully hit his shoulder. “Just like old times.”

Brick found his way down to the bank, kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt to the ground. He looked up at the ledge where Blossom was standing with sunbeams shining behind her. His arms extended and without thinking twice, she jumped and landed securely.

“Don’t slip” She mocked as he carried them to the water.

Brick laughed at her tone and gently set her down. His hands around her waist as they stared at each other. Pink and red complimented against the shallow water of the creek. He kissed her cheek and pulled the red ribbon, making the long trails of her hair blow free in the summer breeze. 

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you more.” She responded and kissed him, her ring sparkling underneath the light.

She had spent all of her childhood reading books with the grand fairy tail ending. The ones every little girl dreamed of. For the longest time, she had stopped believe that they could be true. But as she stared into the eyes of the person she loved and cherished most, it was as if the stars had alined and the book she never thought would be written, was now opening with a brand new chapter of love and hope. 

♥♥

I hope you enjoyed!! 

asks/requests/commissions open!

[imagine-loki]

Hiding in Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Five AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé.

You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.

How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

RATING: General Audience

Raven could feel her heart pounding in her ears as Thor looked at her. He glanced at Loki for a moment who seemed to be studying him, curious as to why he was reacting as he was. “Looks like your soon-to-be wife isn’t the only Light Elf you need to get used to seeing.” Thor scoffed. “Like I was saying, I will deal with my situation when it comes to pass, you deal with yours now as it does.” “Get stuffed.” Loki snarled moving to the side to allow Raven passed him which she did in case Thor would say anything. “And don’t go sniffing around my maid. I don’t know why you seem so interested as you never thought them overly interesting as a race but you can cease such thoughts now.”

“I never even considered such but now that you mention it, she is quite pretty, don’t you think?” 

Loki’s response to his brother was to slam the door with his seidr into his face. He walked through the room and to the bathroom where he had watched Raven go out of the side of his eye after she had entered his rooms. “Branna, I...what in the realms are you doing?”

“Cleaning a wound I obtained when you threw an Aesir war prince onto me.”

“In my defence, I did not know you were there.” Loki winced on seeing the deep cut on her forearm. “I apologise but how is it so deep?” he walked over to one of the cabinets and got out a salve he used on occasion. “It was a smooth floor.” “The floor is gold plated, so yes, that was smooth. The armour plating on the behemoth of an Aesir you threw onto me was not.”

Loki grimaced. “I guess I owe you another apology then?”

“I’ll put it on your tab.” 

Loki paused and looked at her startled, surprised to see a playful smirk on her face that caused him to chuckle. “You have a sense of humour?” “Most elves do. You’d know that if you stopped assuming our demeanours based on some unfounded preconceived notion.”

“Your vernacular exceeds that of most women of court.”

“It is expected on Alfheim that you are able to converse with your employer on a multitude of subjects so you must be well learned and you must be able to hold a decent conversation with them. Allspeak is also required in case they have guests from the other realms, it’s common practise really.” Every word she spoke was the truth by Ljósáfar standard. 

“That’s a wise decision. Intelligent servants are not overly common here, ones you can converse with are even less so.”

“‘Pay peanuts and you get monkeys’ as the saying goes.” She cleaned the wound and applied the salve. “That looks better. Hopefully, if I ever marry, he won’t think me mutilated by it.”

Loki scoffed slightly. “He would want to have peculiar standards as to what is mutilated. But that statement on the monkeys?” “I spoke to a Vanir before who spent time on Midgard, it is a saying there. It translates to ‘if you pay badly, only the least qualified will apply’. Alfheim pays well and expects a lot for the money paid.”

“If it is so great, why come here? You stated to my mother you are homesick. You clearly are not overly pleased with your position, so why come?”

“My father wished for me to experience life elsewhere so I ended up here. My choice was made for me so I am making the best of it. It just so happened that my being in a certain place at a certain time meant I was chosen to cover for Tatiana. I guess the Allmother felt a maid with Ljósláfar training would suit you best in her stead.” Raven suggested. “Either that or she is trying to teach you humility before you break a young princess’s confidence or heart.”

“Her heart?” Loki thought that an odd thing to say. “She does not know me to have her heart broken by me?” ��We can break a person’s heart without it being from love, you know?” Raven scoffed but Loki looked at her bewildered by such words. “She could come here thinking that she has the potential not even for the love of her life but of a life with happiness nonetheless. A husband that could converse with her at length about politics or even a man with hobbies similar to her own who she could find contentment with. Were she to come and see nothing short of contempt, then that would be acknowledging she could never even have that much. So many arranged marriages turn to caring but what I experienced here today, perhaps your mother wished to straighten out your behaviour in advance, the only issue being I am the one forced to endure it.”

Loki remained stoically in place for a moment thinking of what she said. “Could she have?” “Could she what?”

“My mother?”

“I cannot tell, she never told me anything only that I was to temporarily replace your other maid. No timeframe, no other information.”

“And the Princess, would she really…?” Raven cocked her head. “Earlier, you stated that she would wish to know if I had someone because she…”

“If you think that you alone have the right to other partners, then that is ridiculous.”

“But if she was to have another’s child as my wife…?”

“Well, good thing you’re not scheduled to become king.” Raven retorted before walking out of the bathing room and into the front area of Loki’s rooms and continued her earlier duties that she had abandoned in her anger. 

“That is unacceptable.” Loki followed after her. 

“So is having a mistress in this era.” Raven challenged. 

“You are very angry about a subject that does not concern you personally.” Loki folded his arms and watched her carefully. 

“I cannot stomach double standards.”

“You’re very opinionated for a woman of your position. I can’t see how many in a position of employment would see it as acceptable.”

“Do you find it acceptable?” “I find silent women unsettling. Your gender is as varied in personality as us men meaning there is no reason a woman should be forced to be silent when we commend men for speaking freely.” Loki stated. “I find my mother to be more intelligent than any man, I would be a hypocrite and a fool to think her the only possible intelligent woman.”

“My father always told me I should be more coy and quiet. That my attitude and sarcasm would get me in trouble.”

“That was solid advice.”

“But I cannot remain silent when I see injustice. I would rather be whipped and caned in a stock for speaking out than live in luxury for remaining silent.”

“That is a bold statement.” Loki could not help but be impressed by her conviction. “But if you believe so greatly in such, why did you not reveal the truth to my mother?”

“I don’t know, if I am honest. I ask myself the same thing.”

“Well, thank you all the same.” 

“It remains to be seen if that is a good idea.” She turned away from him and started to do more chores. In truth, having a moment to look at him and study features, Raven was startled at just how handsome he was. Aesir men tended to be burly and stocky but he was elegant and lithe. She had, of course, seen him on her arrival to the room but being in close proximity to him and studying him, she could not deny that he was incredibly attractive, distractingly so. 

She forced herself to concentrate on the work and not the arrogant yet handsome prince. For the rest of the evening, she did everything she needed to do for him. More than once she found herself confused as to what something in front of her was. It was not always easy but she was able to do what needed doing without looking as though she had no idea of what she was doing. Loki was busy dealing with different matters both in and out of his rooms. With him gone for the evening, Raven took her leave and went back to her rooms as quickly as she could muster through the labyrinth of servants stairs that hid in the walls of the great golden palace. On occasion, she saw another servant or maid who nodded in salute as they went about their own business and even once came across two youths of higher families hiding in an alcove kissing which caused her to smile and shake her head, remembering when she was that age and also her first kiss. It was a far more innocent time in her life when she knew nothing of the complexed world of politics that included arranged political marriages. It was in the corridor of rooms that housed royal servants that she realised that there was a maid donning a red belt standing outside her door. “Hello?” 

The maid turned to look at her with a polite smile on her face at seeing the Light Elf behind her. “Oh, thank goodness. I didn’t want to come back without you.”

“Come back?” Raven looked at the maid in concern. 

“Prince Thor asked that I retrieve you and bring you to his rooms to speak for a few moments,” The maid explained. 

“I…” Raven became worried but also knew that to refuse would arouse suspicion. “Can I just change my shoes, these ones are killing me?”

The maid looked down and grimace. “I hated wearing them. Definitely change. Prince Thor said he didn’t care if I came barefoot so long as I was comfortable when he saw me with them one day and bleeding blisters. He won’t mind.” 

Raven smiled at hearing the Aesir Crowned Prince had a heart. Odin was known to be a stickler for tradition but it was clear, some traditions were not overly comfortable for those having to adhere to them so for Thor to allow his maid to wear what appeared to be Midgardian sports shoes instead told her that he had some heart. “One moment.”

She rushed into the room and groaned. She knew what was to come, or at least, the general aspect of what was to come so she prepared herself. When she changed her shows to light comfortable ones, she walked out to meet the maid again who walked her to Thor’s rooms. Raven was frightened that they would walk through the hallway and be spotted by Loki who she knew would be less than pleased to see her going to Thor’s room but instead, when the maid, who remained silent and nameless throughout opened the door at the top of the stairwell, it led directly to Thor’s living area. Slightly startled, Raven looked around curiously. 

“Your Highness.” The maid bowed as she spoke causing Raven to focus of the burly blonde figure in front of her across the room. “Loki’s maid, as you requested.”

“Thank you, Hannah.” Thor gave a polite smile to his maid. “You can have the rest of the evening to yourself.”

The maid frowned. “But your nightcap?”

“I am forgoing it for this evening, I don’t plan to be here.”

“Of course, your highness. Have a pleasant evening and thank you.” She bowed again before nodding slightly to Raven and walking to the hidden door to the servants quarters again. 

For a moment after the maid left, Thor and Raven stood looking at one another analytically as though expecting the other to begin speaking first. 

“What is afoot here?” Thor asked. “The last time I saw the Light Elf princess was four hundred years ago on Vanaheim, she was not yet grown into many of her features but they were distinctive, you have them all, but in proportion. Her name is Raven, you are apparently Branna, the Dark Elf version of the name. I know many people think I am somewhat dim but I am anything but.” Thor stood as tall as he could. “What is afoot? Why are you, a princess who I know for a fact is not allowed to so much as sew because you had that argument with your mother in front of your brother and myself going around scrubbing my brother’s rooms when you are to marry him in a short time?”

[writingsbychlo]

💭 Mitch x single mom reader? If you don’t want to do it bc it’s too specific that’s ok!

oof single mom headcanons and mitch? that’s gonna be some cute shit.

let’s start with the fact that he wouldn’t know she’s a mom at first

in fact, he just thinks she’s really pretty and funny because they keep bumping into one another at his therapy place

he’s always there for his mandatory sessions to make sure his asssignemtnd go okay and he’s signed off to have a firearm

she’s there because her sons playgroup rents one of the group therapy halls once a week for toddler playtime

she’s always gone by the time he comes out though

they always chat though, and he’s definitely developed a little crush on her

one day, she’s not there though, and he’s kinda sad, but he goes to get his regular after-session coffee from the café across the street, and there she is!

it’s filled with parents and babies and older kids, as it always is, but she’s at the counter getting a fresh drink

he shoots his shot, and asks if he can buy her a drink and sit with her

they have a really great chat before he asks her for her number

when she’s leaving, she says she has to go and pick her son up

and he kinda chokes on his breath

“uh, what? you- you have a son? like a kid? your kid, you made it?”

goes from badass assassin to stiles stilinski real quick

she just kinda shrugs and nods

“thought you knew that, the therapy building rents one of the rooms to a toddler playgroup once a week. thought you knew I was a mom.”

he’s just sorta staring at her with a deer in headlights look, and she sighs

internally he is screaming at himself to say or do something but his mind has kinda short circuited

“guess I won’t be expecting a call from you anytime soon then, huh? see you around Mitch, thanks for the coffee.”

you’re gone before he can even get his mind to catch up and he feels like a fucking idiot

of course, he’s curious. you said there was a guy but you didn’t go much into it, said you’d been single for a few years since the guy you’d been living with had cheated on you and walked out

he does a lot of research online, definitely finds you on Facebook and Instagram, and kinda falls a bit in love with your kid

he’s the CUTEST kid he’s ever seen, for starters. the photo that actually makes him feel a little soft and fuzzy is your latest one

your son is holding your face in his hands, and kissing the tip of your nose, and your face is all screwed up as you laugh

it was only posted a few hours ago, and he recognises the therapy building, so he figures it was right after you left

he’s never really seen himself as a dad, but then again, he’d never really seen himself as an assassin either, so

he does want to call you, but he hasn’t quite worked out what to do

he also goes to the farm to talk to Stan, and he’s all prepared for being laughed at and teased, but it doesn’t happen

Stan tells him he doesn’t have experience with little kids, but mitch did throw a lot of tantrums, and he kinda feels like he raised mitch

that makes the pair of them laugh

Stan warns him that dating a mom isn’t like dating a regular girl, he can’t just get bored and leave her, he’d break a kids heart if he gets them invested too

but he really likes you

so stan tells him to go for it. Stan even says, he’ll clear out the recruits for day if he wants to bring them to the farm to see the animals

because Stan DEFINITELY has animals. the man is a farmer in his free time. sometimes when mitch is stressed, he holds a sheep. don’t challenge me.

so, he waits til a week later, and he arrives early to therapy just to see you.

when he gets in, you give him a polite smile like always, and he’s really nervous, and now the thinks he should have brought flowers

“I’m really sorry about last week.”

“you really don’t have to be. it’s not the first time guys have run for the hills, and it won’t be the last time. kids aren’t for everyone, especially when it isn’t your own kid. guys want their kids.”

he sits down next to you, he’s a little jittery, and is forcing himself to meet your eye, and he hates that he’s been put into that category of men

“I never really thought about myself as a dad. even when I was engaged, I just pictured me and her, y’know? never crossed my mind. she died, a few years ago, but I think she would’ve wanted to be a mom.”

you reached out then, your hand placed on top of his as you whispered that you were sorry, and he flipped his hand over to hold yours instead, telling you it’s okay, it didn’t hurt anymore

“look, what I’m trying to say, is that I really like you. and I make no promises that I’m good with kids, I’ll need a lot of help, but I’d like to try.”

you were a bit shocked then, and finally you were the one crumbling a little while he remained steady, and he smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand

“how does a picnic sound for a first date?”

“I’d have to find a babysitter, so it’d be best as a weekend.”

“or, you can bring them along?”

now you kinda looked like you were going to cry, and you pressed your forehead agaisnt his, letting out a breathless little laugh

“I’ve never had a guy invite my kid with us on a date before. you’re already better at this than you think, Mitch.”

he hummed, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, and the other parents were beginning to get back from the coffee shop, he figured the session must be coming to an end

“your kid like animals? my friend owns a farm, we can go for a picnic and feed baby cows.”

“he would love that. he’d love you after that.”

“will his mom, too?” he felt like he was gonna throw up just from the nerves after saying the line, but your seeet smile put him at ease

“keep it up, and she definitely will. now, cmon, do you wanna meet him?”

“I’d love to.”

so, I got carried away. this is LONG. my bad. it’s just so cute 🥺

[wolfpawn]

Hiding in Plain Sight, Chapter 5

Story Summary - Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other. How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

Chapter Summary - Loki tries to set things straight with Raven but then Thor is thrown into the mix.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j  @alexakeyloveloki @cateyes315 @laserpente @bravotheroyalfool @teylacarter91 @heavenly1927

@myblissfulparadise - it won’t let me tag you.

Request if you wish to be tagged

Raven could feel her heart pounding in her ears as Thor looked at her. He glanced at Loki for a moment who seemed to be studying him, curious as to why he was reacting as he was. “Looks like your soon-to-be wife isn’t the only Light Elf you need to get used to seeing.” Thor scoffed. “Like I was saying, I will deal with my situation when it comes to pass, you deal with yours now as it does.” “Get stuffed.” Loki snarled moving to the side to allow Raven passed him which she did in case Thor would say anything. “And don’t go sniffing around my maid. I don’t know why you seem so interested as you never thought them overly interesting as a race but you can cease such thoughts now.”

“I never even considered such but now that you mention it, she is quite pretty, don’t you think?” 

Loki’s response to his brother was to slam the door with his seidr into his face. He walked through the room and to the bathroom where he had watched Raven go out of the side of his eye after she had entered his rooms. “Branna, I...what in the realms are you doing?”

“Cleaning a wound I obtained when you threw an Aesir war prince onto me.”

“In my defence, I did not know you were there.” Loki winced on seeing the deep cut on her forearm. “I apologise but how is it so deep?” he walked over to one of the cabinets and got out a salve he used on occasion. “It was a smooth floor.” “The floor is gold plated, so yes, that was smooth. The armour plating on the behemoth of an Aesir you threw onto me was not.”

Loki grimaced. “I guess I owe you another apology then?”

“I’ll put it on your tab.” 

Loki paused and looked at her startled, surprised to see a playful smirk on her face that caused him to chuckle. “You have a sense of humour?” “Most elves do. You’d know that if you stopped assuming our demeanours based on some unfounded preconceived notion.”

“Your vernacular exceeds that of most women of court.”

“It is expected on Alfheim that you are able to converse with your employer on a multitude of subjects so you must be well learned and you must be able to hold a decent conversation with them. Allspeak is also required in case they have guests from the other realms, it’s common practise really.” Every word she spoke was the truth by Ljósáfar standard. 

“That’s a wise decision. Intelligent servants are not overly common here, ones you can converse with are even less so.”

“‘Pay peanuts and you get monkeys’ as the saying goes.” She cleaned the wound and applied the salve. “That looks better. Hopefully, if I ever marry, he won’t think me mutilated by it.”

Loki scoffed slightly. “He would want to have peculiar standards as to what is mutilated. But that statement on the monkeys?” “I spoke to a Vanir before who spent time on Midgard, it is a saying there. It translates to ‘if you pay badly, only the least qualified will apply’. Alfheim pays well and expects a lot for the money paid.”

“If it is so great, why come here? You stated to my mother you are homesick. You clearly are not overly pleased with your position, so why come?”

“My father wished for me to experience life elsewhere so I ended up here. My choice was made for me so I am making the best of it. It just so happened that my being in a certain place at a certain time meant I was chosen to cover for Tatiana. I guess the Allmother felt a maid with Ljósláfar training would suit you best in her stead.” Raven suggested. “Either that or she is trying to teach you humility before you break a young princess’s confidence or heart.”

“Her heart?” Loki thought that an odd thing to say. “She does not know me to have her heart broken by me?” “We can break a person’s heart without it being from love, you know?” Raven scoffed but Loki looked at her bewildered by such words. “She could come here thinking that she has the potential not even for the love of her life but of a life with happiness nonetheless. A husband that could converse with her at length about politics or even a man with hobbies similar to her own who she could find contentment with. Were she to come and see nothing short of contempt, then that would be acknowledging she could never even have that much. So many arranged marriages turn to caring but what I experienced here today, perhaps your mother wished to straighten out your behaviour in advance, the only issue being I am the one forced to endure it.”

Loki remained stoically in place for a moment thinking of what she said. “Could she have?” “Could she what?”

“My mother?”

“I cannot tell, she never told me anything only that I was to temporarily replace your other maid. No timeframe, no other information.”

“And the Princess, would she really…?” Raven cocked her head. “Earlier, you stated that she would wish to know if I had someone because she…”

“If you think that you alone have the right to other partners, then that is ridiculous.”

“But if she was to have another’s child as my wife…?”

“Well, good thing you’re not scheduled to become king.” Raven retorted before walking out of the bathing room and into the front area of Loki’s rooms and continued her earlier duties that she had abandoned in her anger. 

“That is unacceptable.” Loki followed after her. 

“So is having a mistress in this era.” Raven challenged. 

“You are very angry about a subject that does not concern you personally.” Loki folded his arms and watched her carefully. 

“I cannot stomach double standards.”

“You’re very opinionated for a woman of your position. I can’t see how many in a position of employment would see it as acceptable.”

“Do you find it acceptable?” “I find silent women unsettling. Your gender is as varied in personality as us men meaning there is no reason a woman should be forced to be silent when we commend men for speaking freely.” Loki stated. “I find my mother to be more intelligent than any man, I would be a hypocrite and a fool to think her the only possible intelligent woman.”

“My father always told me I should be more coy and quiet. That my attitude and sarcasm would get me in trouble.”

“That was solid advice.”

“But I cannot remain silent when I see injustice. I would rather be whipped and caned in a stock for speaking out than live in luxury for remaining silent.”

“That is a bold statement.” Loki could not help but be impressed by her conviction. “But if you believe so greatly in such, why did you not reveal the truth to my mother?”

“I don’t know, if I am honest. I ask myself the same thing.”

“Well, thank you all the same.” 

“It remains to be seen if that is a good idea.” She turned away from him and started to do more chores. In truth, having a moment to look at him and study features, Raven was startled at just how handsome he was. Aesir men tended to be burly and stocky but he was elegant and lithe. She had, of course, seen him on her arrival to the room but being in close proximity to him and studying him, she could not deny that he was incredibly attractive, distractingly so. 

She forced herself to concentrate on the work and not the arrogant yet handsome prince. For the rest of the evening, she did everything she needed to do for him. More than once she found herself confused as to what something in front of her was. It was not always easy but she was able to do what needed doing without looking as though she had no idea of what she was doing. Loki was busy dealing with different matters both in and out of his rooms. With him gone for the evening, Raven took her leave and went back to her rooms as quickly as she could muster through the labyrinth of servants stairs that hid in the walls of the great golden palace. On occasion, she saw another servant or maid who nodded in salute as they went about their own business and even once came across two youths of higher families hiding in an alcove kissing which caused her to smile and shake her head, remembering when she was that age and also her first kiss. It was a far more innocent time in her life when she knew nothing of the complexed world of politics that included arranged political marriages. It was in the corridor of rooms that housed royal servants that she realised that there was a maid donning a red belt standing outside her door. “Hello?” 

The maid turned to look at her with a polite smile on her face at seeing the Light Elf behind her. “Oh, thank goodness. I didn’t want to come back without you.”

“Come back?” Raven looked at the maid in concern. 

“Prince Thor asked that I retrieve you and bring you to his rooms to speak for a few moments,” The maid explained. 

“I…” Raven became worried but also knew that to refuse would arouse suspicion. “Can I just change my shoes, these ones are killing me?”

The maid looked down and grimace. “I hated wearing them. Definitely change. Prince Thor said he didn’t care if I came barefoot so long as I was comfortable when he saw me with them one day and bleeding blisters. He won’t mind.” 

Raven smiled at hearing the Aesir Crowned Prince had a heart. Odin was known to be a stickler for tradition but it was clear, some traditions were not overly comfortable for those having to adhere to them so for Thor to allow his maid to wear what appeared to be Midgardian sports shoes instead told her that he had some heart. “One moment.”

She rushed into the room and groaned. She knew what was to come, or at least, the general aspect of what was to come so she prepared herself. When she changed her shows to light comfortable ones, she walked out to meet the maid again who walked her to Thor’s rooms. Raven was frightened that they would walk through the hallway and be spotted by Loki who she knew would be less than pleased to see her going to Thor’s room but instead, when the maid, who remained silent and nameless throughout opened the door at the top of the stairwell, it led directly to Thor’s living area. Slightly startled, Raven looked around curiously. 

“Your Highness.” The maid bowed as she spoke causing Raven to focus of the burly blonde figure in front of her across the room. “Loki’s maid, as you requested.”

“Thank you, Hannah.” Thor gave a polite smile to his maid. “You can have the rest of the evening to yourself.”

The maid frowned. “But your nightcap?”

“I am forgoing it for this evening, I don’t plan to be here.”

“Of course, your highness. Have a pleasant evening and thank you.” She bowed again before nodding slightly to Raven and walking to the hidden door to the servants quarters again. 

For a moment after the maid left, Thor and Raven stood looking at one another analytically as though expecting the other to begin speaking first. 

“What is afoot here?” Thor asked. “The last time I saw the Light Elf princess was four hundred years ago on Vanaheim, she was not yet grown into many of her features but they were distinctive, you have them all, but in proportion. Her name is Raven, you are apparently Branna, the Dark Elf version of the name. I know many people think I am somewhat dim but I am anything but.” Thor stood as tall as he could. “What is afoot? Why are you, a princess who I know for a fact is not allowed to so much as sew because you had that argument with your mother in front of your brother and myself going around scrubbing my brother’s rooms when you are to marry him in a short time?”

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 33

So past the exposition and world building and we finally get into the first story of the second cour. And it’s a doozy in that it would classify as a 2-parter. Or for how the story updates means it’ll take four scenes to complete. And suffice to say, we will have plot! So please enjoy...

    ~Towns, oceans, cities, forests, ruins, and today mountains~♥ Traveling with Sonic on his adventures is a dream come true. It’s not easy though, tee-hee~♪ I’m really not ready to yet. I want to so badly though, and the only reason I’m able to at all is that Sonic promised to get me and everyone else back home. Otherwise… Otherwise it’d be like Sonic’s rules always are traveling with him. If you want to travel with him, you have to be able to keep up. And it’s not that I can’t run as fast as him thanks to our first Ring Bond, but Sonic’s running is so much more than just running.

    ~These mountains we’ve been exploring since we last passed through a city of any kind are rugged and jagged and feel like they’re picking on us. They’re also covered in fog and ruins. The ruins would be nice if they improved my traction, but despite how old they are, it’s like they’ve never been worn down and the surfaces are polished due to the moisture in the fog. It’s really cool that I can see my reflection in them so cleanly, but well…~

    Rosy didn’t even bother sighing as she slid face first along a long stretch of perfectly smooth reflective stone from a most unlikely natural polishing job. She did not do much of anything really as she lay there. She was doing her best, but…

    ~As I said, keeping up with Sonic is hard. Though Draw seems to do alright when he isn’t just having me carry him piggyback. Me though… Ooh~! I practice and practice and it’s so much fun, but I still have so far to go. And as I said, Sonic’s running isn’t just running. He uses his hands a lot and jumps and scrambles, and it’s just so amazing to watch. Draw says he’s seen me do the same thing, but I think he’s just trying to make me feel better.

~Normally though it’s not this hard. Everyone thinks Sonic always runs at full speed, but he actually rarely does when he’s just running to run. We’ve been doing that a lot recently since we don’t have any clues to where anyone is, but these mountains are so hard to traverse and Sonic has been challenging every ravine and sheer cliff we’ve come across. That and well… well I really don’t want to say.~

    “That’s a weird place to take a nap, you weirdo girl,” Draw commented as he squatted down next to Rosy and poked her shoulder. His finger simply sunk into her shoulder puff though, which served as the sleeve of her leotard, and he had no way to be sure if he reached her shoulder at all. Changing tactics, he instead poked her cheek and was surprised by the warmth from it. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

    “I’m fine,” Rosy insisted though she still did not move. “I’m pretty energetic, so I’ll be back up in no time.”

    Draw felt he had little reason to believe Rosy and after humoring her for a moment he pressed her to do as she said. “I’m waiting. Are you sure you’re fine?”

    “Hee-hee,” Rosy giggled weakly and rather confused. “I should be. I’m pretty energetic!”

    “You already said that.”

    ~Ooh~! Draw was right. Normally I was pretty energetic though. But keeping up with Sonic is hard enough even when he’s running at a more casual speed. But these mountains and how hard he’s been challenging them. That, and I haven’t been sleeping at all. That little planet always watching me just makes it impossible to. But still, I’m pretty energetic!~

    Though Rosy could convince herself she was more than lively enough to keep chasing after Sonic, her body obstinately refused, and she continued to lay face down on the polished stone. Draw began to think he needed to go get Sonic but was surprised to see the blue hedgehog emerge from the fog led by Mote.

    “Something the matter, kid?” Sonic asked as he stopped just shy of Rosy and placed his hands on his hips. Watching her ears twitch weakly and her tail fail to wag at the sound of his voice, he did not need her to answer but allowed her to anyway.

    “Hee-hee,” Rosy giggled again weakly. “I guess I over did it. I can’t move at all. EEP~!”

    Despite how helpless she was, Rosy still squeaked in surprise when Sonic started rubbing her ear between his fingers. “S-Sonic! What are you doing!”

    “Yeah,” Sonic seemed to be behind the conversation as he responded, “it’s little wonder you can’t move. You’ve got a doozy of a fever going. You haven’t been trying to run all day burning up like this have you? Wait, don’t answer that. Tails has talked about how bad you are at taking care of yourself before.”

    Rosy finally managed to move, if only just puffing up her cheeks in frustration. “Ooh~! Don’t say that, Sonic! I know you’re slowing down on purpose until we find everyone and get home, but I thought if it was just the two of us–”

    “What about me?” Draw interrupted but went unheard as Rosy continued.

    “–that I should try to go as fast as you. I don’t want to be a reason for you to have to slow down. I want to be able to keep up so you can always run as fast as you want. I feel like I’m taking your freedom away from you.”

    “Don’t be ridiculous kid,” Sonic sighed and scooped Rosy up into a bridal carry. He frowned for more than just her silly fear of holding him back as her eyes could not focus on his. “Yeesh, you’re worse looking than I thought.”

    “Boo~!” Rosy whined weakly, barely holding onto consciousness. “I’m cute and you know it! Come on Sonic, tell me I’m cute…”

    “Not burning up like this.”

    “I’m hot then! Hee-hee~♥

    “Too hot.”

    “Is that why you ignore my moves…?”

    “You wish.”

    Rosy didn’t seem to hear Sonic at all and he struggled to shift her into a more secure position as she grew limp from fevered sleep. Looking at Draw almost helplessly he kind of shrugged. “Come on. Let’s find some shelter where we can make a fire and try to keep her out of the elements.”

    “Is she going to be okay?” Draw probed and received a smirk in return.

    “Nothing a hundred Rings won’t deal with. But I can’t go off collecting Rings and leave her out in the cold.”

    Moving his attention from Draw back to Rosy, Sonic’s eye softened ever so slightly, and his smirk shifted just enough to look like a slight smile. Draw tilted his head curiously after their weird little back and forth and pondered about the display. Quite a fair bit as his contemplation persisted as he followed Sonic through the slick mountain ruins and did battle with golems both real and imagined as countless statues adorned the ancient ruins that heavily resembled the roaming constructs. The statues prompted another question from Draw as Sonic stepped back from where he lay Rosy down in a small cave that he had started a fire in.

    “I wonder who built this place and why they would make statues of golems.”

    “Other way around tyke,” Sonic corrected him before changing subject for a moment. “Go ahead and cover her with your coat. The fire’s nice, but she’ll need a bit of protection from more than just the golems until I can get those Rings.”

    As he took his coat off and revealed the button-up shirt below, Draw returned to his previous line of thought. “Other way around?”

    “Just a guess really,” Sonic admitted and rubbed his nose.

    “Sounds kind of shady,” Draw accused Sonic of not being forthright as he draped his coat over Rosy.

    “Well, supposedly there’s a stone god up here and I was hoping to meet it.”

    “What!”

    Draw could not hide his disbelief and Sonic laughed with a smirk as he continued to rub his nose. With a wink, he attempted to counter the image of his peculiar danger sense irritating him.

    “Why would you want to meet a god! Huh? What’s that Mote?”

    “The whole medium business involving the kid I’m sure,” Sonic surmised what Mote distracted Draw with.

    “How’d you know?”

    “Because it’s obvious. I’m not really good with the details myself, but I know she’s got a way to talk with everything around her. Even things no one should be able to.”

    Walking back over and kneeling down, Sonic took a moment to fish Rosy’s tarot cards out of her shoulder puff. It took him a moment to find them and he had to laugh a moment as he poked and prodded around. “How does it not hurt having all of this junk in here? What even is some of this?”

    Draw gave Sonic a questioning glance and a warning as he finally pulled free the card case. “She’s going to get angry if she wakes up and they’re gone.”

    “No doubt about it,” Sonic agreed, though he ignored the warning as he kept the cards and stood up. “Except, I’m pretty sure they’re the reason she’s not sleeping.”

    “You noticed she hasn’t been sleeping too huh?”

    “Wasn’t hard,” Sonic shrugged. “I can tell what she’s feeling by how she smiles, so noticing she hasn’t been sleeping and keeps looking up at that planet in the sky fussily. Well, it’s no big deal.”

    “Sounds like you like her to me,” Draw teased and earned a frown from Sonic.

    “I like all my friends.” Sonic casually commented as he worked on making sure Rosy was safely bundled up.

    “You know what I mean,” Draw pressed with a toothy grin, trying to prove that Sonic’s frown was just him ignoring him and not from concentration.

    “Maybe,” Sonic countered playfully and irritated Draw. Before he could counter Sonic’s counter, Mote flew up between them.

    “Mote? What? Wasn’t that what I was just asking? No~? Alright fine, I’ll ask him.”

    “Ask me what?” Sonic beat Draw to a question as he looked confused at the yellow fairy.

    “Mote wants to know what Rosy means to you.”

    “That’s a weird question.” Sonic dismissed the fairy’s curiosity, but Draw’s unamused expression and Mote’s insistent one forced him to pay attention. Turning his back on them, Sonic tapped at the side of his nose trying to understand the danger his nose was insisting he was in. “She’s a good friend. That should be enough.”

    “Not according to Mote.”

    “Really?” Sonic asked as he peeked back in sarcastic reply. It was a weird thing to be pressed about, but the fairy’s stare had grown more intense and Sonic figured he should answer before the fairy got any weirder. With a heavy sigh, Sonic walked over to Rosy again and knelt down to give her a good hard look over.

    Draw wasn’t sure what to make of Sonic’s thoughts as his face looked strained in a way he couldn’t explain. ‘Is he confused himself?’

    “What does she mean to me huh?” Standing up and walking away again, Sonic scratched behind his own ear as he seemed to wrestle with the thought. He gave nothing away though. Not in body language, expression, or tone of voice though he did mumble some more.

    “She’s just a friend, right? Feels like I’ve known her for more than forever thanks to these weird lands though. Could she be…? Nah, not likely.”

    With his thoughts in order, he turned back to Draw and Mote and surprised them with his choice of words.

    “I’ll admit, she’s one of the special ones I’ve met. And before you get any ideas, I mean in that she doesn’t just hero worship me. I mean, she does, and she’ll jump on me at moment’s notice if I don’t have my guard up. But you know, maybe it’s hard for you tell, but she really cares. When she points out a tree she thinks is funny, she wants to share that joy. When she says she wants to run with me forever, that she wants to make sure my speed doesn’t leave me alone… Yeah, she’s a special one alright. And frankly, I don’t get it. But you know, in those quiet moments when we’ve just been running along and there is nothing else. The way she smiles. She loves it as much as I do, and maybe as much as she does me. She really means it …”

    Sonic trailed off for a moment and looked back at Rosy and smirked. “And even if I just tried to run from her, she’d chase me and make sure I had a reason to run. And not because she’s mad at me, but because she honestly believes that my love of running is important enough for her to give me a reason to do what I love most. If I really think about it, you know, she’s not a bad running partner at all.

    “Hm? What’s with that look?” Sonic asked as he leaned back while pressing his finger into his chin thoughtfully and spotted Draw

    Wearing a smarmy ear to ear grin, Draw answered as though Sonic had just revealed the world’s most embarrassing secret. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a love confession

    “Yeah? Well, I got nothing against talking about my love of running,” Sonic deftly slipped out of the way of Draw’s accusation. His tone of voice became just that much gentler though as to be almost imperceptible as he looked once more at Rosy. “Really though, she enjoys running as much as I do and if I don’t get those Rings, I’ll be depriving her of that. Keep her safe while I go get them. Be back in a flash”

    Without another word, Sonic bolted from the cave, just a little too fast leaving Draw to protect the sleeping Rosy. His expression grew immediately relieved. He did not like the way Sonic left without ever clarifying his emotions on what Rosy meant to him. Likely not even to himself. It made him feel untrustworthy to Draw no matter how tender he was with Rosy. He felt Mote likely felt the same and asked to be sure.

    “You don’t like it either huh? What do you mean keep him away from her? You don’t mean you actually want me to try and carry her! What! But she’s bigger than I am!”

Scene 33 · CLEARED Sonic & Rosy, to be continued

-----

And there is part one! And yes, a bit of heavy handed SonAmy teasing, but that’s kind of the point of this particular part. Showing how close the two are in their own unique way. I also have to show that not everyone agrees with that or how dismissive and unsure Sonic is about his feelings for Rosy. Forgive me if I don’t handle it well, but I’m trying and ask you to please stick with me. Part 2 is coming Saturday and I hope you’ll be looking forward to it!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – One Last Kiss – Hikaru Utada – From Neon Genesis Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[deputyrhiannonhale]

Nodus Tollens Chapter 5

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

OK, I know I posted that this might be delayed, but after work yesterday, I got in THE ZONE and wrote like a mad woman haha

Warnings: General game canon violence, mental anguish, kidnapping, language, rough unprotected sex (yes we got smut this time around)

Also this is a long chapter, I may have gotten a little carried away hahaha

tagging: @returnofthepd3 @ja-crispea @dieguzguz @shelliechen @f0xyboxes @deputyjessicaquinn @ec-10 @sharky-broshaw @veinereastath @xbaebsae @tomexraider @hopecountygazette @nihildep @savage-rhi @ramadiiiisme

~~

“I don’t care what Faith has to say, James.” John’s voice was pitched low as he spoke to his most trusted Chosen follower, as he kept his baby blue eyes trained on Rhi’s unconscious form. “I can handle Rhi myself, she is my responsibility.” John’s voice was almost an octave deeper, possessive undertones in his confession. Rhi then groaned, her body stirring upon hearing her own name. John waved James away with a dismissive flick of his wrist, and he walked over to Rhi, kneeling down, hovering as he straddled her chest. His hand brushed some of her hair that fell from the ponytail out of her face, tracing his fingers along the bandage near her hairline from the blow she received. John had punished that particular member, having told them not to harm Rhi in any way. James had tried to stop them, but it had happened so fast there was nothing he could have done.

Rhi’s eyes moved behind the lids, her face twisting in pain as the throbbing that had been minor before was now searing hot around her temple. She tried to reach up, but found she couldn’t move her arms, and her hazel eyes flew open in panic to meet John’s blue ones. His smile was big, and almost seemed sincere, Rhi was about to scream, but John’s hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound.

“Not that anyone could hear you around here that would matter, my dear, but please do not do that.” John pointed out, the smile still in place, as Rhi’s eyes darted around trying to figure out exactly where ‘here’ was. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife, using it to cut the bindings on her wrists. Rhi took this freedom to quickly reach up, balling her hand into a fast and punched John hard on his cheek. The blow staggered him, Rhi bucked herself up, he toppled over while cursing loudly, cupping his cheek and glaring at her. Rhi already had her feet free by the time he got to his own feet, and John grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her to her feet. Rhi twisted, almost looking like a feral animal.

“Let me go, you fuckin’ asshole!” Rhi shouted, yanking against his hold, growling at the fact that she couldn’t break free, the rage in her eyes palpable, and an image of her angry Step-Father flashed in her vision, causing her to yank again, wanting to be out of his hard grasp. John pulled her closer, dipping his head down to get close to her face.

“Not until you answer some questions.” John informed her, his voice velvety smooth, and Rhi scoffed.

“Fuck you, I don’t have to answer anything.” She hissed acidly, no fear showing in her eyes as she challenged him. “If either of us do, it’s you.” 

“What do I have to answer, you know all my secrets, deputy.” John kept putting extra emphasis on her title like he was bothered she would come back here in some sort of authoritative role, like somehow her becoming a cop was an affront to him and his purpose. Rhi worked up a mouthful of saliva and spit it into John’s face, causing him to finally release her to wipe it away, his patience obviously wearing thin with the smaller woman. “You bitch.” John barked out, cupping her under her arms and slammed her against the nearest wall, his nostrils flared, his eyes hard as steel, his body weight pinning her in place. Rhi was shocked into silence for several beats, not having foreseen John manhandling her in such a way, just blinking at him, a stirring in her core surprising her just as much. “Don’t you ever spit in my face again!” Rhi’s eyes searched John’s for a moment, before she took a deep calming breath.

“I’m leaving now. Put me down.” She demanded, face expressionless, her feet dangled several inches from the ground.

“I invite you into my home and this is how you react?” Rhi’s face cracked at John's question as she let out a bitter laugh.

“Invite?” She asked on a scoff. “You had me fuckin’ tied up, I was kidnapped to your home.” As her words sank in, John slowly lowered her to the ground, removing his hands and Rhi straightened her shirt in a huff.

“I’m the same person I was two years ago, why can’t you just care for me again?” John asked, as Rhi pushed passed him towards the door she hoped lead from the room and just wasn’t a closet so she wouldn’t look stupid as she tried to storm off.

“The funny thing is,” she said, her hand on the knob, and she turned to face him once more. “If you had just been honest from the start, I would have never stopped.” With the confession in the air, Rhi opened the door and vanished from his sight, leaving John in his own thoughts.

Rhi stomped down the stairs into the living room, her steps halting as she took in the space, she had never been to John’s house before, and now she could understand why. Cult memorabilia was everywhere, Rhi rubbed her forehead in exasperation, feeling like the betrayal she harbors will never die down. How could she have been so blinded by everything? Why hadn’t she found it suspicious that he wouldn’t invite her to his home? Always wanting to meet in secret, the lying was a blaring bullhorn that Rhi had been deafened to. At the very least, she should have thought he was actually married, but that hadn’t even crossed her mind.

While she was standing at the bottom of the stairs, John had emerged from the room, and was watching Rhi as she was now massaging her temples, an almost sad look in his eyes, knowing he was the cause of what was bothering her.

“Why couldn’t you just be honest with me?” Rhi’s voice was almost inaudible, and at first John was unsure if the question was really for him, that is, until she turned on her heel and glared up at him. Her hard stare barely concealed the hurt that was boiling under the surface and John slowly descended the stairs to join her. “Why!” She seethed, not backing down as he stopped right in front of her.

“It’s complicated.” Was all he said, they sat in silence for several ticks of the clock before Rhi scoffed, rolling her eyes, and waving her hand in his face as she turned away from him. John grabbed her wrist and pulled her with only enough force to turn her back to him, and the action caused the same stirring in her as before. “Join us and it will all make sense.”  Rhi’s eyes studied his for a moment, as she tried to make sense of what she was feeling, before she frowned deeply and pulled herself free of his grasp.

“How did Faith know about my family?” She deflected, she couldn’t believe he had asked her to join that cult after everything they’ve put her through since she showed up. Sure, she had arrested his brother, but she was only doing what she was instructed to do, kidnapping people is illegal. “Gushing about the little fucked up girl you’re pretending to care about?” 

John’s expression couldn’t have changed faster if Rhi had actually slapped him. He went from calm to shocked to angry so quickly Rhi may have gotten whiplash from it, and a line appeared between her brows as she pursed her lips tightly at his expression. He was stewing in the fact she would say that he was pretending to care for her. He was trying to save her from the Collapse, why couldn’t she understand that? It was the ultimate show of caring. John brought his hands up to his face, massaging his own temples this time.

“I-” He sighed out in frustration, his cheeks growing more and more red, Rhi tilted her head at him, uncertain if he was going to explode or not. “Can’t believe. You...The Collapse is coming and I-” She had never witnessed John stumbling over his own words before and she took a single step towards him.

“The fuck are you babbling about, John?” Rhi spat out, not harshly, but enough to get him to look at her again.

“How can you think I don’t genuinely care for you?” He finally asked and Rhi placed a hand on her chest in shock, like she couldn’t believe he didn’t understand her own aversion to his little “group”.

“You want me to join a cult. One that, might I add, has been trying to murder me for a week now.” The hand at her chest moved to point in a general direction meant to represent The Project, before pointing at herself again, putting emphasis on her points. “You haven’t even asked if I am ok. And you sent some of your own people to attack me.” She let out a disbelieving breathy laugh, looking up at the ceiling. “But you’re right, it should be really really obvious that you care soooo much.” She dragged the word out in her sarcastic manner, before turning on her heel, and this time John didn’t grab for her, his own anger getting to be too much.

“Yeah, run like you always do when things get hard. Maybe if you’d stop running Deeter would still be here.” Rhi stopped in her tracks, the pain in her chest sharp and hot, the tears blurring her vision at John’s harsh words. The pain was urgent, almost feeling like she was having a heart attack, and maybe she was, if she were to die right here, John would remember those as the last words he said to her.

Rhi closed her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath, swallowing the emotions wanting to break free, before opening her eyes again, still shiny with unshed tears, flinging his front door open, and slamming it hard behind her.

~

Sharky was riding shotgun in Earl’s SUV with him at the wheel, Hurk Jr sitting in the middle of the backseat, his eyes shifting between the two in the front as their awkward tension was palpable. They were all three out looking for Rhi after Sharky didn’t find her at Joseph’s statue, where she had said she was. Sharky found Earl at the jail and Hurk came riding up not long after explaining that Addie had told him that Rhi was back in town.

Earl’s face was drawn, not happy Rhi had chosen Sharky Boshaw of all people to be her helping hand. After the way Sharky had spoken to her when she was still just a kid, he figured Rhi would have more sense than that. Earl cut his blue eyes quickly at Sharky, before shifting in his seat, the silence stretching.

“Ya should see the way Rhi fights, man, she’s real good.” Sharky said, being very complimentary towards Rhi, and all Earl did in reply is grunt, causing Hurk to clear his throat, feeling bad for Sharky who was trying his best to be polite to the sheriff.

“She took kickboxin’, broba fet. For several years, it was what her therapist had told her to do.” Hurk offered, trying to break the tension. He knew Earl didn’t care much for his cousin, but it seems Sharky was really happy to be helping Rhi out.

“Also, I just gotta say man, I’m so glad I found ya, Rhi was so worried about ya. Lookin’ high and low. Ya must really be proud of her and her finding her way in the world, right? She’s just so cool.” Sharky was almost babbling, and Earl’s frown deepened, feeling Sharky was getting a little too close to Rhi and he’s not sure he approves, and his hands tightened their grip on the wheel. Hurk leaned forward in his seat, draping both his arms on the backs of the front seats.

“Do y’all know how much polar bears weigh? ‘Cause I don’t...they’re real fuckin’ big though...I dunno how they don’t break the ice.” Hurk was trying his hardest to break the tension before some kind of argument started, Earl cast his eyes upwards momentarily, praying for the patience to not just wreck the car, when Sharky grabbed onto his arm, pointing wildly off to the right.

“Look! That’s Rhi runnin’ up the road ahead of us!” He exclaimed, and Earl squinted.

“How can you tell?” He asked, it was the most he had said on this car ride.

“I just can, man, pull over!” Earl quickly pulled over, and Sharky barely let the vehicle come to a stop before he was hopping out of the passenger side, running to catch up to Rhi. Earl watched as Sharky touched Rhi’s shoulder gently, as Rhi placed her hands on her hips, panting heavily, her face cast to the sky. She was crying as she was talking to him, Sharky reached up with his free hand and wiped some of the tears from her face, before she latched onto him, crying into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back soothingly. 

Hurk watched as Earl’s body relaxed from annoyed to almost favorable as they observed how much the two obviously have grown to care for and trust each other.

“He ain’t really all that bad, man.” Hurk stated, clapping Earl on the shoulder, before sliding over to the door, and vacating the SUV as well. “Do my eyes fuckin’ deceive me? Is that Bitty Rhi all grown up?” Hurk shouted, causing Rhi to lift her face from Sharky’s chest, and a large grin spread across her face,

“Hurk?!” Rhi let Sharky go and ran towards Hurk, leaping into his open arms, and he swung her around as if she weighed nothing at all. "Unk?" Rhi's voice caught in her throat as she saw Earl getting out of the driver's side of the SUV. Hurk lowered her to the ground and she sprinted towards her uncle, wrapping her arms around him. "I was so worried about you."

"Hey kid, I'm ok, I was at the jail helping them defend it. Sharky found me and helped get the cult away from us." Rhi pulled back, smiling up at her uncle, before turning her smile back towards Sharky who had walked over to join them, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back almost protectively.

"Way to go Sharkster!" Rhi praised, playfully punching his chest with the back of her hand, her voice still unsteady from crying.

"C'mon, let's get ya back to aunt Addie's and get some food in ya." Sharky suggested, leading her back to the SUV, opening the back door for her to climb in, before jogging to the other side and joining her. Hurk gave Earl a toothy knowing smile before they both made their way back to the vehicle as well.

"Do you really think Sharky is the best fit for you? Helping you, I mean." Earl corrected himself awkwardly as he and Rhi set the table for dinner, and Rhi looked up at him, confused but then she chuckled at him, rolling her eyes.

"Unk...Sharky is a good man. I'm learning that as the days go by. He's helped me a lot." Earl sighed loudly, setting the last plate down as Rhi walked closer to him as she dispensed the forks by each plate, and she quickly glanced at where Sharky and Hurk were sitting on the couch in the living room. She caught Sharky looking at her and he quickly snapped his attention back to the tv and a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Earl caught that look and followed her gaze, another sigh escaping him. Rhi clapped him on the shoulder. "Unk, you're like a dad to me, you know? Betcha can't wait for Sharky to be your son-in-law, huh?" Rhi teased him and Earl's face drained of color slightly, causing Rhi to howl with laughter, the sound causing Sharky to look at her again, having never heard her give a full laugh before. It was one of the most beautiful sounds he thinks he's ever heard.

"I gotta sit down." Earl mumbled, pulling a dining chair out, sitting down hard, and placing his face in one hand as he leaned on his elbow on the table, which caused Rhi to laugh even louder.

“Y’all are havin’ way too much fun in here.” Addie chuckled, before pinching Rhi on her elbow to get her attention, and then she ticked her chin, indicating that she wanted Rhi to follow her outside. Rhi sighed, knowing what Addie probably wanted to talk to her about, but followed her out the door, while flicking the bill of Sharky’s hat when she walked by, he laughed and playfully swatted at her back.

Rhi flopped onto one of the white plastic chairs around the firepit, clasping her hands in her lap, waiting for the questions, or lecture, she was about to receive.

“Kiddo, Sharky told me ya were really upset when they found ya, what’s goin’ on?” Addie asked, sitting down next to Rhi, studying her profile, watching her lip begin to quiver as she remembered what John had said to her.

“I guess...I’m really confused. Like...you remember two years ago when I was all up some guy's ass and was gone a lot?” Addie nodded once Rhi looked at her. “It was John.” Rhi gave Addie a hesitant, sheepish smile at her shocked expression, wringing her hands nervously, looking back to them. “Well-”

“No, wait wait wait, I'm gonna need you to explain more on that. Ya can’t just drop that bomb and walk away.” Addie interrupted Rhi, touching her forearm to get her to look at her again, and Rhi let out a breathy laugh, shrugging a shoulder.

“Not much to explain, it was just a little summer romance I guess. That’s the part where it gets confusing. He never told me he was in the cult, he never even acted like he would be in something like that. He was super charming and funny-”

“Charmin’? Funny? Are ya sure it’s the same John?” Addie teased, having had to deal with the cult way more than Rhi has seen, and Rhi shrugged again, looking out in the distance, frowning. 

“Exactly, like this John is so different, he had me kidnapped, I woke up in his house.” Rhi leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, hands unclasped and dangling loosely between her legs. “But...even though I feel betrayed...he slammed and pinned me against the wall, and I felt...something. I dunno how to describe it.” 

“Is that what had ya so upset, him handlin’ ya like that?” Rhi scoffed, shaking her head, reaching down and picking up a rock to toss away, not sure if she wanted to utter the harsh words John spoke, but decided Addie wouldn’t tell it to anyone else. She hadn’t even told Sharky what John said, just that he used something against her from her past. He didn’t know what happened to Deeter like Addie does.

“He, uh, he basically said that I always run away when things get hard and that if I didn’t do that Deeter might still be here.” Rhi gnawed on her chapped lips, afraid to look at Addie at first.

“That little mother fucker.” She hissed through clenched teeth. “What on God’s green Earth made him think sayin’ somethin’ like that would be ok?” Rhi shrugged again as Addie rubbed her forearm comfortingly.

“He got really upset after I said he only pretended to care about me before.” Addie tilted her head, taking that into consideration, letting a small smile tug at her lips.

“Ok, don’t take this the wrong way...but do ya think you two may just need to get something out of your system? Like an itch that needs to be scratched?” Addie suggested gently, as to not upset Rhi further, and Rhi responded with an indignant squeak.

“Do you really think I would let him scratch any itch I have after he said something like that about Deeter?” Addie held up a hand in a placating manner.

“Don’t ya usually say somethin’ hurtful back when someone has hurt your feelin’s?” Addie pointed out, and Rhi opened her mouth to retort something, but closed her mouth so quickly her teeth clicked. Addie was right, Rhi has always been that way, saying something hurtful back, petty, wanting someone else to hurt like she was. Had John really only said that to hurt her, not really meaning it? Could she really believe that about him, this new John was so weird; maybe she doesn't know him as well as she thought. The realization made her sigh heavily and rub her face.

“Ok, maybe you’re right...but how can I just waltz back up to him after that?” Addie shrugged.

“With an extra swish in them hips girl.” Rhi gave Addie a warning glare before they both burst into laughter.

Rhi drew in a deep, calming breath as she looked up at the massive house that is the Seed Ranch. She was here in the cover of night by herself, after having sneaked out once she thought everyone was asleep. She looked to her left and right before pulling out a piece of white cloth, like any cartoonish cliche you've seen, as she walked up the remainder of the driveway to the front door.

"There she is! She’s back!" One of the members of The Project shouted who was patrolling the ground and Rhi quickly raised her hands in hope the white cloth showed she was coming in peace.

"I want a parley with John!" Rhi explained, holding her ground, despite the several guns that were currently being trained on her, including a few red dots from distanced snipers. The group all exchanged looks with each other, before one gave a signal to the snipers, while another pulled a handgun, training it on her before motioning with it for her to proceed.

Rhi sighed loudly, flopping down on John's plush leather couch and she scoffed. Of course it's leather, she thought as she ran her hands over the cool supple material, and looked around at all the nice decorations of the living room this time around. She rolled her eyes as the man went to fetch John.

"Just like all those televangelists, huh, John?" She murmured to herself, thinking about how these "heralds" lived just like all those 'we are in this together' Christians. John seemed a little bit more in the lap of luxury than the others but she remembers he used to be a lawyer. That explains a lot.

"Ah, deputy, what a nice surprise." John's soft voice called as he descended the stairs, and Rhi frowned at the mocking way he said 'deputy' turning to follow his movements. "What brings you back? Have more hurtful things you wanna say?" Rhi turned back to face forward, rolling her eyes again, her forearms on her thighs, her hands clasped together. 

“Nothing I said was as hurtful as what you did.” She pointed out, still not looking at him, but she heard him scoff. His baby blue eyes studied her profile as he walked around the couch, wringing her hands together again like she had done while talking with Addie, and he watched them.

"I've seen what you can do with those hands, Deputy." John stated, in an almost flirtatious manner, and she rolled her eyes, even though the last thing her hands had done to him was punch him.

"Rhi, you know my name is Rhi." She corrected him, annoyed by the way he kept saying deputy, standing at her full height and finally looking at him again. "You know you can call me that." Rhi took a calming breath and tried to be as seductive as she could, but heaven knows she didn't know how, as she walked closer to him, his eyes studying her closely as she approached, prepared for another attack, but John made note that her body language was reading as something less aggressive.

She felt she looked idiotic, she was never one for flirting, it just wasn't her style. With the way she was brought up, she had to learn about sex on her own, so she was very, when I want to you'll know kind of person. She gave him a small smile, his eyes still trained on her, as her fingers trailed lightly down his right forearm to his hand, taking it in her own, lifting it so she could get a better look at his tattoos.

John was uncharacteristically rigid, still unsure how to respond to her touching him, after what he had said to her. After seeing the look of betrayal, he finds it odd that she is here, voluntarily touching him so gently, her hazel eyes so curious as she studied his ink.

"You’ve gotten so many new tattoos since the last time I saw you two years ago. Goat?" Rhi asked softly, her other hand coming to trace along the lines of the said animal. "Lust?" She pointed out, her hazel eyes flicking up to meet his blue ones in a brief moment, to find he was studying her as intently as she was him. Maybe Addie was onto something here. Her fingers nimbly moved up to the peacock feather. "Pride." She looked up to him again, he didn't fight her as she moved to his left arm, studying those tattoos, finding the snake wrapped around his wrist. "Envy?" What could he possibly envy of others? She wondered to herself as she absently looked around the vast living room.

Rhi then hesitantly reached out to his chest, tracing her fingers along the crossed out word 'sloth' which she had made note of on his arm as well, however this time John grabbed her wrist, halting her movements, causing her to gasp

"What are your intentions here tonight, Rhi?" John bent at his waist slightly, his face dangerously close to hers, and a small smirk played on her lips.

"We both know there's something between us more than you wanting me to atone and join your little Project." She whispered to him, and she watched as his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared slightly. Addie really knows her shit, Rhi noted, suddenly feeling an ego boost, unsure why, because really it should have repulsed her. He lied to her, betrayed her, tricked her. Sure he's handsome, but he's crazy, she should abort this mission and run for the hills.

John looked over at the Project member who had been watching this entire sordid exchange, he was the one repulsed, this poor follower. The disdain and confusion heavy on his features, John then ticked his chin towards the door.

"Leave us. And don't breathe a word of this." The man's eyes widened, and he took a step forward, obviously about to protest, Rhi couldn't be for sure, but Hurk had told her at dinner about him about to join the cult but the cult had a no fornicating rule, however for some reason she felt the Heralds didn't abide by that teaching. In her life, she's noticed the leaders of anything hardly followed their own rules.

"B-but-"

"LEAVE!" John growled menacingly, causing both Rhi and the man to flinch at the sudden loud noise. The follower looked between John and Rhi once more before quickly fleeing.

As soon as the door closed, John corralled Rhi backwards until her back was against the rough uneven stones of the fireplace. John's hands cupped her face in a frenzy, his lips on hers instantly.

Rhi squealed in surprise at the quick development of this situation, her hands grasping onto his forearms in an attempt to ground her, and soon her eyes closed and she let her lips move with his.

John tasted and smelled much differently than she'd imagined him, the minty scent quickly permeated both her senses of taste and smell. Of course he would wear mint, if the stories of him are true, mint would kill his sense of smell as he tortures innocent people. She's letting a psycho who tortures people to get them to confess sins to him kiss her.

John's hands then moved down to her purple flannel shirt, gripping the fabric, he ripped her shirt open in one quick flick of his wrists, the buttons flying and clattering in different areas of the room, his mouth was still moving frantically against hers, grunts of need escaping him as his hands smoothed over her chest.

Rhi gasped, it had been a while since a man touched her like this, his warm hands cupped her clothed breasts, causing her to arch her back, thrusting her chest to him more.

He growled at the motion, moving his leg in between her own, bending down to suck on her  clothed nipples, showing both plenty of attention, wetting the fabric as he worked her over. Rhi was quickly melting into a mess, gasping for air, before he ripped her bra open, his mouth moving to her neck, sucking at her pulse. Her chest was heaving as his hands moved down to cup her ass, lifting her up and pinning her against the fireplace roughly with his own body. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, as his face buried between her breasts, his mouth sucking the sensitive skin there. He then ran his tongue along the curve, finding her nipple, his mouth enveloping the already pert bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling her nipple before he bit down hard enough to cause her to scream.

"Fuck, asshole, take it easy!" She hissed at him, his hips slammed into hers at her demand, shooting pain went up her spine from the uneven structure she was against.

"I'm the one in charge here." He informed her, and her body shivered at the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes. It was a brief pause before her fingers went to his hair and her lips were on his again, he moaned loudly, and she pulled his hair, as she broke the kiss.

"Are you?" She teased, a playful smirk on her face, and that is what ignited his fire, and she saw the shift in his eyes, as he moved back, allowing her feet to hit the floor again, as he began unbuttoning her jeans, she was kicking her shoes off at the same time as she worked on his own clothes. 

His hand gripped her throat once they were both naked, strong enough to get her attention, but all he did was begin kissing her with more ferocity than before, hiking her back up against the fireplace, easily sliding into her because of how wet this exchange had already made her.

"You're such a bitch." He groaned out, before kissing down her jawline, as his hips snapped over and over into her.

"Johnny boy, is this all you've got? This is what I've been waiting for?" Rhi didn't understand why those words left her mouth, why must she push his buttons so much? John pulled out of her quickly, a crazy spark in his baby blue eyes, before he all but flung her onto the couch.

She barely regained her composure before he was on top of her again, slamming into her without any warning, his hand holding her jaw tightly, making her look him in the eyes.

"Is this the only way I'm going to get you to shut up, you bitch?" He asked as he hammered into her hard and fast, but the only noises she could make in response was high pitched moans. 

Rhi's walls fluttered around his cock as he continued to pound into her, his hand still gripping her jaw as he began to give her sloppy yet rough kisses. His thrusts were losing rhythm as he neared his climax.

"You better cum when I tell you to." He commanded in her ear and she nodded as best she could with him holding onto her. "Now, do it now, I wanna feel you cum hard for me." The coil building in her abdomen snapped and she screamed out his name so loudly, her throat began to feel raw. He thrust through her heat a few more times before pulling out and shooting thick ropes strands of cum on her stomach, groaning out her name as well, before he collapsed on top of her.

John's weight was still on Rhi, both of them still panting loudly, she still couldn't believe they had done this on his couch, instead of moving upstairs. Anyone could have walked in and caught them. She rubbed her forehead, still wondering if that was a good idea, even if she had enjoyed herself. John is sexy and she knows it, she loves his hands, how they look and feel, but he is the enemy and really this should have been wrong. Damn Adelaide and her suggestions.

John finally sat up, his sticky mess on both of their abdomens now, at least he had the decency to pull out, as he moved to his kitchen, grabbed a towel and wetting it, coming back into the living room, wiping himself off before tossing the towel to Rhi.

"Gee, thanks." She mumbled, as she wiped herself off as well, sitting up on the couch. Rhi eyes John, he was still naked, his body toned but not overly muscled, now that they were done she felt free to drink him in. That's when her eyes landed on his freshly fucked hair, his dark hair was flipped over one eye. He was normally so put together and neat looking that too see him so disheveled, nearly caused her to get horny once again. Rhi shook her head fervently, clearing it, and she began looking for her clothes, finding her shirt ripped and buttonless, she growled loudly. "I can't go back home with this shirt." She mumbled and John looked at her curiously, as he was dressing himself. Rhi stood, stepping into her panties as she found them, pulling her jeans on, leaving them undone,  as she donned her bra, huffing out a sigh, placing her hands on her hips. "Couldn't you just easily take my clothes off?" She asked on a laugh, shaking her destroyed shirt at him.

"I didn't hear you complaining." Came John's cocky response, causing Rhi to blush heavily as he brushed past her,  motioning for her to follow him upstairs. She fell in line behind him, breathing in his cologne as she did. She couldn't place the scent but damn was it intoxicating. 

In his room, John peered through his walk-in closet, Rhi watching his hands closely, why is she so hung up on his hands, she would never know. 

"What are you doin' there, big guy?" Rhi asked, awkwardly when John finally pulled a shirt off the rack in his closet. He turned to her, holding the shirt out to her by the hanger and she blinked at him, before shaking her head. "I can't wear one of your shirts." She politely declined and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Why not? We just had sex, what's a shirt?" Her mouth fell open, and her cheeks reddened again.

"Won't people...like, know then?" Rhi asked, and John's baby blue eyes averted her gaze for a few beats before looking at her again.

"So? Is that a problem?" He asked, flippantly, and Rhi looked at him as if he just asked if murder was wrong.

"You're...okay with people knowing we fucked?" John studied her for a few moments before a smirk played on his lips, shifting his weight back a little, pointing his free index finger at her.

“You’re not. You don’t want someone knowing, do you?” Rhi felt her cheeks redden once again, was that true? Was she wanting to hide it from someone? She cast her eyes down at her feet, suddenly finding the floor interesting. “Well, it’s either wear one of mine, or your torn shirt. Either way, you are going to get questioned.” John finished, holding his shirt out again, and Rhi growled, snatching the garment from him, and pulling it from the hanger and donning it. She just prayed that once she returned to Addie’s home, no one was awake to catch her wearing one of John Seed’s shirts.

[nad-zeta]

Match up! ^ↀᴥↀ^

Idk if you’ll get this but realized in my matchup request I never described myself so I’m 5’6 with long light brown hair and brown eyes and clear slightly tinted gold glasses and I’m v skinny no matter what I eat and the best way I can describe how I dress is just a disaster bi flannels and high waisted jeans

Hi!! I was wondering if I could have a matchup with ikemen sengoku? I’m a Capricorn idk if you care about zodiac stuff. I’m also a Hufflepuff. I’m really really shy and I’m reeaally awkward until you get to know me well and then I laugh and joke around a lot. I’m really sarcastic and have a pretty dry sense of humor. I blush really easily when I get embarrassed or flustered and I find basically everything embarrassing. I have pretty bad generalized and social anxiety and it stops me from doing a lot of things I would want to do. I’ve been told I’m very blunt and honest. Even though I’m really quiet I have really strong opinions. I’m a pretty hard worker and I love reading, hiking, animals and I’m really into mythology and fantasy lore. I’m kind of a loner and I enjoy spending most of my time alone. I’m daydreaming in my head like 90% of the day. I’m probably kinda touch starved even though I act like I don’t want to be touched. Sorry if this was really long and thank you again ❤️❤️❤️

Hi hi, love! Thank you so much for the request! And thanx for being so patient! Hehehe I don’t mind a long description, it helps the creative processes lol! I hope you enjoy it love and I hope you have a good day! ❤❤❤😆🌻

So I match you with…….. Masamune 

The first time Masamune saw you, he was intrigued. You look like a small, scared kitten sitting all alone in the corner of the council room after being named Oda princess. You had barely spoken two words since entering the room, and you hadn’t even muttered a single word the whole horse ride back to the castle. Masamune’s keen gazed locked with your deep brown eyes from across the room. He saw a flash of something playful swirling in those eathy eyes, and he instantly knew there must be more to you than meets the eye. You didn’t hold his gaze for very long, as the second you had locked eyes you instantly yielded and looked down, blush spreading like a wildfire across your face. Yes, there was definitely more to you than meets the eye

Masamune wasn’t the only one who had noticed your shy demeanour as Mitsuhide’s keen fox eyes had also been on you since the moment you walked through the door. You reminded him of a timid little mouse, and boy oh boy did he feel the need to tease you. When the council ended, both men came up to you, and it was on. With the first teasing line, Mitsuhide had sent your way, you were already as red as a tomato. Masamune sent you one of his broad smiles and joined Mitsuhide in teasing you. You were incredibly flustered, when finally Hideyoshi took notice of your bright red face, and the two men bulling you and decided to help you out. 

TBH he didn’t suspect you of being an assassin at all. Mainly cause you were too shy to meet anyone’s gaze, and he noticed how your hands were shaking the whole time Nobunaga was talking to you. From the moment he saw you, you were sister zoned in his mind. He pulled both Masa and Mitsu away from you by their kimono collars. “hey, how many time have I told you not to bully people, especially not sweet kind souls like her and Mitsunari.” You breathed a sigh of relief as Hideyoshi took your hand and showed you around the castle

You worked incredibly hard, which gained you the respect and trust of all the Oda forces. The only thing was, that because you were so shy you found it challenging to open up to the people around you. However, your shyness was no problem for the one-eyed dragon, he had his sights set on you from day one, and he was determined to dig deeper and find out more about you. He would pester you every free moment he got. He would drag you with him to his favourite tea houses for tea and chats, of course at the beginning of your relationship he did most of the talking. It wasn’t uncommon for him to during these tea dates to poke you on the nose, “Hey you really don’t talk much do you.” HE low key loved to tease you like this just to get you all flustered. After that, he would go back to talking about the most random of topics. You didn’t open up entirely to the one-eyed dragon until the day he sent you on a series of wild goose-chases

Masamune was getting desperate, he had spent many a tea date with you, but every time just as it looked like you were going to make some sarcastic comment back to one of his dumb remarks, you blushed and kept quiet. Today was the day he thought. Early that morning, you were summoned to Nobunaga’s room where he handed you a letter to deliver to Ieyasu. You still didn’t really know all the Oda forces too well, and you found Yasu slightly scary, so you were feeling pretty anxious about the task, but Nobu being Nobu didn’t take no for an answer. 

You slowly made your way to Ieyasu’s place where you received a riddle that you had to solve. He handed you the mystery and you legit just stared blankly at it, it was a really badly drawn picture of a monkey. You legit didn’t have a clue what it meant. When Ieyasu saw the worried look on your face, he gave you one of his rare smiles and gestured for you to sit down, while he made the two of you some tea. You handed him the riddles in hopes that he may have some insight into solving it, and as he examined the paper, you spotted a book about animals. Ieyasu noticed your gaze lingering on the book, rolled his eyes and told you the riddle was pointing you in the direction of Hideyoshi’s manor. You finished your tea and thanked Ieyasu, before you made your way out the door he, lightly tugged on your sleeve and handed you the book you were staring at, “I’ve already read this one, it’s a good read if you like animals”. He then turned away and went to sit back down at his desk.

You made your way to Hideyoshi’s manor where you were faced with Mitsuhari, Ramnanru and Hideyoshi. As they handed you the next badly drawn picture riddle, your stomach gave a loud growl. You blushed in embarrassment, Hideyoshi simply gave you his sunshine smile and presented you with some food, that Masamune had dropped off earlier that day. The four of you dug in, and you found yourself opening up a little more. You considered the three of them close friends. You looked at the next clue and knew it was pointing you in the direction of the resident kitsune, you were not too keen on visiting him, as he would always tease you mercilessly. You bid the three farewell and made your way to Mitsuhide’s Manor. 

He wasted no time in teasing you, while handing you the final clue, you were slightly confused as this time it was a picture of a tiger. Mitsuhide smiled his snake like smile and pointed in the direction of Masamune’s manor. Despite the teasing you actually enjoyed chatting with Mitsuhide, he even gave you a handful of sweets which brought a smile to your face.

As you walked into Masamune’s manor, you were attacked by a big cat. The cat had pounced on you the second you entered into the room, knocking you to the floor, and he was now licking you all over your face. You laugh swatting away the big cat when you finally realized that it wasn’t just a big cat but a baby tiger. Masamune, who was standing in the doorway, watching the whole scene unfold, had a fond smile on his lips as he approached you and the cub. But instead of helping you get the heavy cub off of you, he joined the little thing in tickling you.

Soon you had two playful tigers making you laugh. In between your laughing fit, you couldn't help but make the driest sarcastic jokes Masamune has ever head. It was now his turn to laugh in delight, he knew there was more to you than shyness and anxiety. That afternoon it seemed that all your walls were broken down, as you were being your true self with Masamune. The two of you joked around and played with the little tiger all afternoon.

You were actually really thankful for Masamune and Nobunaga’s weird riddle goose chase, as it had forced you to spend time with, and get to know the Oda forces a little better. You were now able to relax around them and show them the playful part of your personality. TBH you and Masa would now always be together during banquets, making the driest of jokes and howling in laughter at your sarcastic comebacks to Mitsuhide’s teasing or Ieyasu’s comments. The two of you goofballs were always together

You were thankful to Masamune cause not only did he bring you out your shell, but he helped you with your anxiety. He knew it would sometimes prevent you from taking action and doing the things you really wanted to do. He would take you on fun crazy adventures, and whenever your anxiety would rise up, he would shut it down with some stupid joke or by giving you the first push. The two of you could often be found hiking up mountainsides and exploring cool new places. Masamune loved that you were into fantasy lore as it made your adventure all the more interesting. One time the two of you goofballs went exploring in a scary part of the forest simply because one of the townspeople swore they saw a fairy. When you and Masamune head the story, you looked at each other and nodded in unison.

The transition from friendship to relationship was pretty smooth and natural, and Masamune being him, legit just blurted out that he loved you one day and kissed you. He liked to show his intentions with action rather than words. 

He loves loves loves to cuddle and snuggle you. He low key knows you are touched starved and let be real this boi love language is physical touch, so he is most happy when you are nestled in his arms

He loves everything about you, from your sweet, kind heart to your ability to daydream for hours. Often he would find you staring off into space wholly enveloped in a daydream. He would smile his mischievous smile and decide to pull a little prank on you. He would usually steal your glasses right off your face and boop your nose. When you come back to reality, you notice that everything is blurred expect a very handsome Masamune right in front of your face, sneakily wearing your glasses, “If you want these back kitten you will have to pay the fee.” You smile at your lover, “And what would the fee be, to get back my sight.” At that Masamune grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer to kiss you. You take advantage of the kiss to steal back your glasses and once you have them you boop Masa on the nose and run. These games of chase usually end up with the two of you out of breath in a fit of laughter, as Masamune always manages to catch you and tickles you into submission

He loves how blunt and honest you are, fearlessly stating your opinions to him. He will always listen to all your opinions with an open mind and will gladly stand up for you and your opinions, when you are too shy or anxious to do so yourself.

Masamune respects that you need some alone time to recharge and knows that when you have had enough of your own company, that you would find him. The two of you are often together, your favourite spot in the world to be, is cuddled in Masamune’s arms. If the two of you aren’t enjoying the presence of each other while doing your own thing in the same room, the both of you are off on some fun hiking adventure exploring and just having the best time

 Other potential matches………………Mitsuhide 

Hope you enjoyed it love and i hope you have a good day! ❤😆🌻🔥

[fourletterworld]

Letting Go - Was a Big Brother

He didn't know how to stop, but we had a plan. I held onto the handlebars alongside him and guided him before letting go. He went forward, steering on his own, pedaling and balancing. He'd taken flight, and I was watching something I'd affected. He was laughing. He wanted to look at me but he couldn't take his eyes away.

"Dust! Look!" he called out. I laughed and clapped at him.

I watched as he ran his bike into a large pile of soft dirt. His wheel sunk in and the bike gently tilted on its side. He stood away from his bike and looked directly at me. His smile was as unwilfully brilliant as the sun and my heart bloomed. I didn't know it at the time but the brightness pierced a hole in my young consciousness and grafted onto my memory like silver nitrate. Feeling it now, as a man, I sense the texture of it all the same beneath my fingers. I was a growing boy raising a growing boy. Responsibility and joy had never known each other so well: the way a sober man falls asleep with a pure heart.

And man, sometimes I think, if only I could do it over and have my little baby brother back. If only I could have had some time to become a man so I could have truly guided him. I could have focused if I didn’t have the obstacles of my own adolescent mind hedonistically drawing the curtains over what was happening to that little kid.  

I think if I had a little boy now, that I was to take care of, a powerful resoluteness would overwhelmingly usurp any other color in my life. My son would think I was a warm heart born from stone. I would be the definition of dedication and love. He'd never know a single wild story of my life, and my circular conflict would straighten itself in opposition to my son's unbeaten path. I'd show him how to tackle his obstacles head on, with honesty and thought. I'd teach him how intellect isn't soft, and that it can challenge you toward self-destruction. I would teach him, that the depression he inevitably inherits from me, isn't a black hole to get lost in but a darkness in which to contrast the worlds vast beauty.  I would demonstrate what it is to be a gentleman so that the world won't misguide him, and I would hug him after I lecture him on a hard truth. I would teach him how to throw a punch, and elaborate on the ugliness of hatred. I would show, by example, tolerance. To live within one's own principals, and to illuminate in his mind the intuitive fine lines that sanctions them. I'd teach him that others may cross these boundaries with steam in their eyes, and to always guide them away with equal force. I'd also teach him that some may walk through his borders innocently, and others with intentional love, and that being disarmed by a woman is the most beautiful thing in the world. That her placing her hand on your most painful burn might not hurt, and that in time her touch might cool it into the past. Though if it doesn’t, the touch can make you forget for a moment, and that something new can grow in that tranquil silence.  And I'll also temper myself, and my fearful control, and trust in that organic thing we call unconditional love to unfold and open the rest of his soul toward the sun. I wouldn't be his friend, but his protector, mentor, model, and still, as I was with Cody, an endless summer of love. A pair of strong arms to lift him from the ground or to hold him until I've drawn as much of his hurt into my astonishingly endless threshold, as long as I can, until he will not let me anymore because he has become his own man.

but I think about Cody, and how I don't want to have a little boy in his honor. What a disgrace that could be, like attributing the old name to the new family pet.

No, his story is over, and I still have this muscle memory that springs alive at night to catch him.

Maybe that's all it is. I just have potholes throughout this road that has ran through my whole life, and I'm looking to fill them. I'm holding onto the handlebars and steering him away from falling in even though the little boy is no longer on the seat.

I'd walked into that same paternal quicksand again, but suddenly amidst this dream I see red brake lights in the snowy night.

"Jesus Christ" the electric jolt in my chest screams. I'm suddenly driving a car.

I jerk into the reality of it like I'm falling out of bed. I hold the wheel and cut someone off to avoid a collision and I'm thankful for not slipping on the ice. The windshield is filled with blinding snow, and the falling sheets pass by like light years of stars. It must have lulled me into this daydream. Everything around me is beautiful, but I feel so ugly inside I might as well be taking the scenery in through a motel television.

My adrenaline is going and I use it as an excuse to pull over, but really, I just want to do something unordinary. Chaos seems to work like that. You want to surround yourself with the unusual so you don't feel so strange. It's like giving your weirdness company.

There was a long period of time during the last year I had kept myself company with alcohol in my studio/shed after Bridgette went to sleep. I'd hold my guitar in between long pauses of not playing a single chord with my eyes open and my head full. I hadn't even cared about the gentle ride into drunkenness that beer provides, so I'd started pouring myself whiskey into Tupperware filled with ice so that I could quickly evaporate into some synthetic cloud of euphoria. I grew accustomed to the taste of straight whiskey, but who the fuck would drink it if it had no alcohol? People do it, I guess.

Through my cynical lens I find it depressing thinking about the shells of sobriety trying to salvage their spirit with non-alcoholic drinks. The desire never leaves you, does it? It's always there touching you in that empty space. God, will that be me someday? Always bored, living in forced contentment toward a lower threshold of fun? What about escaping into mental wilderness? What about living through great stories? I worry without the escape I'd turn into something like the Tin Man rusted shut from sadness, having watched my personality fallen asleep from the numbing perfume of adulthood.

Anyhow, these escapes of mine keep me lucid enough to keep doing this thing we all do.

So maybe I should understand Cody’s choices better. I’d sincerely asked him one day to never go down any road that I can’t follow him on, but what example was I setting? I drew a line but I'm no better. I steer toward the same cardinal point but to a lesser degree.

I often go through good days, riding creative highs and getting into the snap of productivity and exercise, but I always have it in the back of my head that there is that escape somewhere whenever I say I need it. Actually, I think part of what I enjoy is the rise and fall. I enjoy the facade of the healthy days. I brag about them like I mean it.

"I feel great, I haven't chewed on my stitches in days!" and I still buy it when I hear it come out of my mouth. I mean, I think I do believe it when I'm in the throes of a really healthy lifestyle, and I even start to think I'm normal, but even then, that's not entirely true.

Normal people don't exist while being overly conscious of not hitting their head on the ceiling. Sometimes I wonder if I'm more normal when I'm drinking because I can be so present, but even that doesn't sound right because normal people rarely look like they're having fun.

Christ, the things people will laugh at. It’s like we all come equipped with canned laughter to put adult tension at ease.  I know because I do it too. It just comes out of me to smooth over oddity.

Then there’s the other kind of eager laughter that wants out so bad we’ll convince ourselves that something amusing is actually funny. I’m guilty of this one too. I just want out so bad that I constantly look for those pockets to howl into, but it never leaves me satisfied.

What I really want is to feel out of control. I want my feelings to have nonsensical company. I want to let go of the handlebars of mind, spirit, and body, and for something overwhelming to take me over completely.

But, is it normal to want every laugh to be the kind that makes you momentarily crazy? Because that is how I want each laugh to be.

I want each laugh to make me lose my fucking mind.

[windupalisaie]

unburdened & content

(alisaie/wol | romantic fluff  | post stormblood - a year after ala mhigo’s liberation | 3178 words) 

A pair of arms emerged from the dark and wound around Alisaie's waist. Her hand reached for the hilt of her rapier on instinct, only to remember that the blade usually strapped to her belt wasn’t there. For a brief, fleeting moment, she panicked.

"Guess who?"

The question was caught between velvet and silk, with a light rasp that clung to otherwise smooth words. The warmth of a familiar giggle danced against Alisaie’s neck and her ear, bringing with it the equally familiar scent of petals and spice that mingled with a rich thread of wine. Alisaie relaxed.

"You're far too adept at cloaking yourself in shadow, Warrior of Light."

She did her best to not make the surprise she'd briefly felt obvious and made sure the title was a sharp little knife when she spoke it—much like the ones its bearer often threw around without care. The shadow behind her giggled again upon being unmasked. 

"Caught me," Poppy replied in a rueful, singsong way and leaned forward to prop her chin on Alisaie’s shoulder. "Just wanted to see if my darling little wallflower is enjoying herself."

The jab was gentle, edged only with a hair of playful sharpness. Still, Alisaie glanced sidelong in a way she knew was petulant—eyes narrowed and lips pursed—at the woman who used her as a headrest. When she caught sight of the bright eyes that stared back at her, crinkled with a sweet and genuine smile, Alisaie couldn't help but smile in return.

"I'm enjoying myself as much as I can," she said, sounding droll. She crossed her arms and leaned back into her love's embrace, sighing lightly to punctuate her response.

Parties were never Alisaie’s preferred environment. Forced pleasantries and talk of politics were always Alphinaud’s forté, but she'd learned to endure it all in her own way. She was never sorely missed in the moments between conversations, even after slipping away to the darkened sidelines to catch her breath. 

It’d been a long evening of speeches and socializing. Ala Mhigans were a lively bunch, at the very least, and, to their credit, the celebration could hardly be considered stiff. Alisaie smiled again when she looked across the crowd and caught glimpses of her fellow Scions, who all mingled amongst members of the Resistance and leadership from the Eorzean city-states.

"I have to admit,” Alisaie said quietly, “it’s good to see everyone together again." 

A warm feeling of contentment tinged her words. The hum of agreement Poppy replied with held a similar warmth. 

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" she asked.

The question gave Alisaie pause. The memory of the night they were all together last was vivid despite being years old at that point, and replayed in her mind as if through the clear facets of an unaspected crystal:

Having defeated the Warriors of Darkness and collected their missing comrades, every Scion had crowded into the Solar of the Rising Stones in attendance of an impromptu meeting called by Alphinaud in order to decide the course of their future. It felt like an epoch ago, before their entanglement in the war, in a time when Lyse still counted herself among their ranks and before Papalymo—

Alisaie shook her head to clear the thoughts away. The motion helped combat the stab of sadness that suddenly slipped into her gut like a knife.

"It has," she said in agreement, quiet and just a bit somber. As if sensing her tension, the arms around Alisaie's waist tightened their embrace.

"Well,” Poppy said, “I can see you're clearly having the time of your life here, but—" before Alisaie could even think up a quip in return, Poppy cut the teasing short to continue, "—want to sneak away with me for a bit?"

The question, along with the puff of breath that came with it, pushed against Alisaie's neck and made the skin there prickle into gooseflesh. She turned her head, enticed already, and smirked at the sight of the playful twinkle in Poppy's eyes.

"Lead the way," Alisaie replied. She didn't bother with hesitation, having learned long ago that it was best to just play along with her love's mischief, and was rewarded with a flash of sharp teeth.

Poppy's arms released her, but her hand slid against Alisaie's a breath later until their fingers tangled together, pulled taut as knots. The gentle tug that came soon after was a wordless command to follow.

Poppy led her through the darkened edges of the ballroom with the silence expected of one whose multitude of titles included the darkest shadow. It was a marvel how she seemed to thread the ambient aether around them both to form a cloak of darkness that shielded from prying eyes. Alisaie was ever-appreciative of the discreet ways Poppy always managed to rescue her from the boredom of parties with.

When they broke free of the confines of the celebration, Poppy let the shadows fall away. The palace opened up around them, all gold and buff marble and towering pillars holding up lofty domed ceilings that filled Alisaie with awe. She hadn't explored the massive place so thoroughly before, but noted how all previous manners of Garlemald had been expunged, replaced instead with rightful banners of rich purple and alabaster griffins.

The hoods of the Resistance were styled after the very same majestic beasts, with beaks that dipped down in respect towards the Warrior of Light and her companion, as they allowed the two women past their guard. A grand staircase was ascended, and Alisaie suspected she found herself on the famed Royal Menagerie when they emerged onto a sweeping terrace paved in ecru tile.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Poppy's question broke through the prolonged, though comfortable, silence that had slipped between them. Alisaie hummed her appreciation at the sight of flowers that swayed in chilled gusts of night air, painted in shades ranging from vermilion to rosy pink. Still hand in hand, they stepped towards the center of the garden and among rows of massive flowerbeds. When Poppy's hand slipped away from hers, it was replaced with a crisp coolness that made Alisaie miss her touch.

"This is where I fought him." Poppy moved towards the nearest plot and bent over to pluck a flower from its bed. There was a slowness to her motions that made it look like she was in pain, or that she feared the bloom she held might shatter at her touch. "A lot of things ended here," she added. The words seeped quietly into the night, heavy with the weight of troubling memories.

Alisaie knew that Zenos met his end on the Menagerie. She hadn't expected it to be a place so serene, though it was clear that the serenity didn't reach Poppy fully. Something about her demeanor changed as she held the flower up. Her eyes narrowed in deep thought and perhaps in anger as the sliver of moon that hung above them outlined her profile with a soft, pale glow. Though the light was scant, it still reflected off her eyes like a flicker of cold flame.

Alisaie watched her, unsure what to say. When her gaze fell to the jagged scar visible beneath the chest wrappings of Poppy’s sparse armor, the red of the flowers briefly brought the phantom, coppery tang of blood to her nose. Her own anger flared in an unbidden flash of heat, directed at herself for not being able to stand at Poppy’s side during that final battle. 

"Many things began here as well," Alisaie said after a moment. She unclenched her fists and shed her senseless anger—it would do her little good a year late, after all—then offered Poppy a determined little smile instead. "Ala Mhigo's unfettered future, for one."

Poppy remained entranced by the flower in her grasp. Alisaie’s words broke through her silent musing and she lifted her head to meet her gaze, seeming startled and unsure. She exhaled a breath that felt like it lasted an age, but also seemed to lighten her burden, if only just a bit.

"I didn't want this place to be soured, is all," Poppy explained with a shrug, sounding sheepish, and glanced back down at the flower that twirled between her fingertips. Its pink petals held fast to the stem despite the abuse. "It's too pretty for that. So I brought you. It can't be sour if there's memories of you here."

Alisaie huffed at the flattery, though a smile still tugged at the corner of her mouth just enough to betray her. Poppy caught sight of it in an instant—fast enough to act before Alisaie could squeeze in a retort.

"Enough talk,” Poppy said and waved a hand before her face, as if she meant to swipe the dreary cobwebs of old memories away. “Dance with me?"

The question caught Alisaie off guard. Her wide-eyed gawping was likely what pulled the smile back onto her partner’s lips.

“Dance? Here?”

Her incredulity sharpened that smile to a wolfish grin. “Why not?”

It was a challenge, if she’d ever heard one. Alisaie stared at the hand extended towards her for a moment before she rose to it. 

"If you insist,” she replied, tone tart. “I'll indulge my dear Warrior."

Fingers brushed together and a step closed the gap of space between them. Poppy's free hand deftly tucked the flower she held into Alisaie's hair, where it made its new bed just above her ear. She smirked at the gesture, though the gentleness of it filled her with warmth.

Poppy took both of Alisaie’s hands in hers. Alisaie looked down at them, feeling calluses brush against her own, seeing scars stretch pale lines across olive skin. Poppy's nails were filed down to minuscule points and lacquered a dusty, petal pink that matched the flower she'd just held. The charming style of it suited her.

Alisaie remembered, suddenly, something her mother often said to scold her long ago, when she was but a young girl who had a bad habit of chewing on her nails while she read: you can learn much about someone with just a glance at their fingernails, and thus you must needs care for your own. She'd never quite understood the meaning behind those words. Not until she saw Poppy’s hands.

She remembered long nails carved into menacing points on the eve of many a battle, ones that were sharp enough to be considered knives in their own right. She remembered the aftermaths, the bandages wound around palms, the nails splintered and shattered, with blood caught underneath, sullied in conflicts won. She remembered still how in the darkest hours they were left overgrown and haloed by purplish bruises, left untouched by self-imposed neglect. 

Those were the hands of the Warrior of Light, of the soldier, of the weapon. The hands that held Alisaie’s then were a stark contrast that bespoke contentment and peace, rather than the hardships of war.

Alisaie remembered, also, the scent of wine on Poppy's breath when she snuck up on her, and caught it faintly between them then in their closeness, still rich and sweet. She thought of how Poppy had always quailed at the sight of a goblet and eyed opened bottles with obvious suspicion. Alisaie was surprised that she'd indulged, especially after having confided in her long ago about the fears that followed after the night in Ul'dah, and the other at Falcon's Nest.

Then it clicked into place: Poppy felt safe. Her myriad of wounds, no matter how countless, had begun to heal. The realization warmed Alisaie further.

"Ready?" Poppy asked, snapping her back to the present with amused impatience. "Or are you stalling?"

"I assure you that I'm not," Alisaie replied, tone tart once more. She straightened her back and pulled Poppy closer. "Lead the way," she said for a second time that night, and knew how she sneered likely made it sound more like a challenge of her own.

Poppy, of course, rose to that challenge in an instant. Their positions were sorted out, with hands finding waists and shoulders and holding one another. And thus their dance began.

Alisaie thought it would be nigh impossible with no music to guide them, but Poppy managed to surprise her, as she always did. She pulled them both along with her usual ease, her movements fluid, following the thrum of some unheard melody that steered her. Alisaie kept up through sheer determination alone, loathe to be outdone by her partner.

"You look a bit impressed," Poppy said after a while. She twirled them around with an effortless grace that somehow managed to come off as smug. Alisaie rolled her eyes.

"Quite. I'm impressed you haven't tripped over me yet."

Poppy tutted her disapproval before a wicked grin lit up her face. She was clearly undeterred by the comment.

"Oho, but you haven't seen anything yet!"

Both her hands traveled to Alisaie's waist and wrapped around her back, pulling her closer before she was urged backwards again. She half expected to be dropped to the ground, but Poppy held tight, dipping her so low that her head brushed against the flowers beneath her. Alisaie stared up at her, silent with surprise, and instinctively wrapped her arms around Poppy’s neck in fear of falling.

The ornate bits of gold sewn onto Poppy's formal battle garb glistened beneath the moon's half crescent and clinked together softly as she shifted to lean over. The sharp pauldron that jutted from her shoulder cut into the night sky above her, and the fearsome daggers that hung from her hips shone as moonlight pooled along the faded scars that cut across her cheek and lips. She looked every bit like the gilded hero of legend she was oft made out to be, and Alisaie couldn't help but be enchanted by the sight.

Poppy's smugness melted into satisfaction, then turned to something even softer. Her lips grazed against Alisaie’s in a feather-light kiss that stole the breath from her lungs, and her eyes fluttered closed when a more firm kiss followed.

She was practically gasping when Poppy pulled away, only to peer down at her warmly from beneath long lashes. The florid sweetness of the blooms that danced all around them clouded Alisaie's already reeling mind.

"You—" words failed her for a moment, as she'd been completely disarmed. "You… you hopeless, senseless romantic! You were planning this all along, weren't you?"

The amorous moment was shattered when another grin broke across Poppy's face. She laughed at the accusation as she straightened her back, pulling Alisaie up with ease.

"Caught me again. It's your own fault, though," Poppy said in a singsong way while her eyes narrowed with mischief. "I love you enough to prance around like a fool, after all. Lucky you," she added, tail swishing behind her in satisfaction.

Alisaie should have been more irritated from the embarrassment of being briefly turned into a blushing, swooning maiden, but no such feelings of contempt ever came. Only a warm fondness filled her, along with an amusement that pushed past her lips as a chuckle that Poppy shared in.

Poppy released Alisaie from her grasp, but didn't back away. Their hands came together again in a wordless want for contact, and they swayed, fingers twined and cheeks pressed together. It was a ghost of their previous dance, though more pleasant with the added closeness.

"I am lucky," Alisaie said after a while, quiet and assured. When Poppy chuckled again in reply, Alisaie felt the sound rumble against her. 

"I'm glad you think so."

There was a frailty and shyness behind the words that made Alisaie's heart stutter. She caught the faint thread of wine on Poppy’s breath again, felt the subtle sharpness of nails against her palms, and her thoughts abruptly turned to the precariousness of it all. The state of the realm, their lives, their love—everything felt so delicate.

It felt like madness, sometimes, to think of the breadth of her love for Poppy. And it was madness, for how could she fall in love with a whirling tempest, or the harsh crackle of a roaring fire, or the sharpened end of a freshly polished knife, or the light, blooming warmth of hope? It was a foolish notion to fall in love with intangible, fleeting things, but Alisaie was stubborn and ever content in that folly, because she knew that the Warrior of Light was no weapon cast in metal to be wielded, nor a statue carved of stone to be worshiped—she was but a woman of flesh and blood who loved just as deeply as she did.

Their love was foolish, perhaps, and it was terrifying. The feeling was fragile, caught between them like a little bird, its frantic wing beats not unlike the fluttering of their hearts. Yet in all its fragility, it also held an unfathomable strength. It was an act of defiance to love a hero, Alisaie knew, as it was to be a hero in love. But together, they were both stronger for it.

"You're so quiet tonight," Poppy whispered, and Alisaie felt the warmth of her curious concern brush across her cheek. "A lot on your mind?"  

"Yes," Alisaie admitted. There was no point in lying, but she didn't quite know how to articulate the thoughts that occupied her. 

Poppy hummed. It was a thoughtful little sound. She pulled back just enough so Alisaie could see that her face was twisted into an unimpressed look.

"You think too much," she said, and it sounded almost like a scolding. And in that moment, Alisaie had to hold back the laugh she felt bubble up at the absurdity of it all.

“Well,” she began to reply without a breath of hesitation, "between the two of us, someone has to."

The jab pulled a pout onto Poppy's lips. Alisaie couldn't help but smirk.

"Seems like my wallflower is more of a nettle," Poppy said, speaking with as much sharpness as the mentioned plant. "Thinking is for politicians. In case you’ve forgotten, we're the ones who fight," she reminded her pointedly. She then heaved a dramatic sigh and moved backwards to step onto a flowerbed, pulling Alisaie along with her. "Though, I guess there's not much fighting to do for now,” she said with a thoughtful tilt of her head, before continuing with her usual mischief: “All that's left to do is dance!" 

They were surrounded on all sides by flowers. Poppy took Alisaie’s hands again and spun them both around. Alisaie conceded, grinning as she gave in to her love's whims, and the fondness that filled her heart made her feel as resilient as the blooms that bent against their movements.

"I suppose I can't argue with that."

Alisaie loved Poppy always, but loved her most as she was then: unburdened and content, twirling among petals, bathed in scant moonlight as she laughed. There were no titles, no duties, no pain. She was purely herself, and that was all who she needed to be.

[volganic]

Song of the Mountain

i really cant help myself from writing everything out all at once tbh but liz is really such a great motivator 🙏

[part 1]

Volga had only ever eaten the people that were foolish enough to fall prey to his voice.  The disorientation of the blazing heat combined with panic of being lost in a literal hellhole made it all too easy to capture wandering travelers.  Needless to say he had built a reputation for it and anyone with a lick of common sense would know to stay away from within the caves if they had managed to sneak past his kin -- but that still didn't stop those who were brave or just plain stupid.

This boy was not stupid.  Not at first glance anyway.

The dragon knight took three long strides toward the green clad hero, blatantly ignoring the tip of the sword pointed right at him.  Despite the look on his intruder's face, Volga could see that the white blade was shaking in his hold.  He pulled Link closer to him by the base of the blade with a clawed gauntlet, nonplussed by the fact that he allowed himself to pulled in with him.  A gasp left the hero's lips as he lost his footing for a second before he was unceremoniously knocked onto his back with a heavy kick, now left unarmed with his blade tossed to the side and out of reach.  

Volga towered over the boy as he scrambled to pull his shield over himself.  He dropped an armored foot on the center of the polished steel, effectively pinning him into place.  Link hissed at the immense pressure put on his arm and midsection, silenced by the tip of his spear pointed between his eyes.  The heat had seeped back into him as he began to sweat bullets in fear for his life with being taken down so easily and under the dragon's scrutinizing gaze. He could hear how his breathing had quickened as he looked between Volga's unreadable features and the end of the spear.

Another startled gasp was ripped out of his throat when Volga's claws caught his chin, armor sizzling hot against his skin.  He squeezed his eyes shut half expecting the victor to crush his jaw or mercilessly kill him.  That's what dragons do, right?  Even with his eyes shut, he could feel Volga's stare boring right into the center of his soul.  He laid stiff in his hold as his head was turned from one cheek to the other.

"You are truly the hero reborn," Volga purred when the boy finally opened his eyes.  Clawed fingers slipped underneath Link's lips, prying his mouth open with protest.  "With no bite, and even less teeth it seems," he chuckled as he pulled his fingers away, ignoring the coughing that followed.  "You are foolish to think that you could have taken me down without so much as anything to shield you from this heat, boy.  You have not listened to the fables well enough."

Link took a deep breath of relief as he was freed from under the weight of Volga's foot and spearhead no longer pointed in his direction. The sound of the other's footsteps retreating gave him the moment he needed to collect himself.  His lungs burned with strain and the back of his head met with the ground, cap tossed and forgotten.  A million questions were running through his mind:  Why was he spared?  Why didn't the dragon kill him when he had easily taken his chance?  Why, goddesses, why didn't he bring anything to protect him from fire?  He was coming after a dragon for goodness sake!  The goddesses were cruel for giving him this so-called blessing -- were they testing him?

He barely could sit up before a piece of heavy fabric hit him in the face.  He pulled it down and held it out at arm's length with an incredulous expression.  Volga snorted as he came back into Link's line of sight.  "If you have half the brain I expected the hero reborn to have, I would suggest you put it on.  It will keep you save from the fires," he said flatly, mirroring the scowl that Link was giving him.  "I dare not fight against someone who is ill-equipped; I have a code of honor that I choose to live by, whether you so choose to believe it or not."

So that's why.  Link held his stare at the dragon for a minute longer before he slowly nodded his head in thanks, looking back down at the tunic he was given; ruby in color and very similar to his own.  Volga took a seat to study the hero in silence, watching him as he stood up and worked in shrugging off the shoulder guard and scarf to peel off the green tunic from his body.  How he managed to survive this long in the Eldin Caves with little to no protection from its severe temperatures was admirable, but still foolish as he eyed the stains of sweat underneath the layer of chain mail.

"Why is it that you have come to challenge me, boy?" he asked, rising to pick up the abandoned blade.  He rolled the hilt in his claws, seemingly unimpressed.  "You are ill-equipped, inexperienced, dehydrated, and armed with nothing but a poor excuse of a sword.  This is a step-up from a simple soldier's sword, but a pitiful sword nonetheless.  What did you expect to achieve?"

Link threw him a cold glare in response as his fingers smoothed out the red tunic.  He brought his hands up to begin signing.  "I've been sent by the princess to investigate your intentions. What are your underlings doing attacking the villages below the mountain?  Your 'code' wouldn't allow you to attack the helpless, so why are you killing them?  What good are you doing them?"

"I am neither good nor evil," he snarled.  "I am not killing them, nor am I sending my fellow kin to attack them.  I have yet to be brought back a corpse from anything other than livestock.  Contrary to the fairy tales, I choose not to eat humans."  Volga stepped closer to offer the blade back to its owner.  "I am Volga, guardian of the Eldin Caves and Death Mountain, and alike the villagers, I too am a victim of an attack.  I have no choice but to make sure that my kin are safe, so they in turn can keep those fools occupying the villages below safe."

The hero strapped his blade back into place with a confused tilt of his head.  The dragon was being attacked?  "How so?  Attacking villages doesn't sound like you're keeping them safe.  Who is attacking you?"

"A witch."  Volga's features darkened as the words left his mouth, a foul taste on his tongue.  "She seeks to start a war with my assistance.  I have no interest in partaking in any war and declined her offer.  She was no match for my army and retreated, but not before taking out our source of food.  A poor tactic, but effective enough when it comes to having an army that relies on it strength in numbers.  Ravenous reptiles are difficult to lead when they are starving."  The knight dug underneath one of the straps around his chest plate, brandishing a silver ring with a large blue jewel.  "I am also inclined to believe she was after this ring.  Without it, there is no start to any war."

Volga drew Link's attention away from the cursed artifact by curling his claws around it tightly.  "Its new home will soon be the pit of lava at the peak of Death Mountain.  The fires are hot enough to expel whatever curse this ring holds."  There's a moment of pause before the knight folded his arms across his chest.  "If there is nothing else you need, then leave my domain."

"Your people are still attacking villages!" the hero signed, unsatisfied with the idea of leaving the caves with unfinished business.  "You need to tell them to fall back and leave.  The people are struggling prior to your forces coming in and invading their homes."  Link chose his next words carefully.  He couldn't risk starting a war of his own, especially in the middle of a cave that nearly killed him.  "Perhaps if I talked with the princess, we could come to an agreement--"

"My allegiance cannot, and will not be bought."  A low rumble worked its way out of Volga's chest to make his point clear.  "I protect nothing more and nothing less than my own kin and those who know their place.  Your princess has nothing I desire.  I have no quarrel with your army.  Leave."

"Not until I know that the people below your mountain are safe!  They know their place, and is it not your duty to protect them?"  Arguing with a force such as Volga was starting to wear him down; fighting him in a duel of arms would have been easier than this.  "If this continues, then the Hyrulean army will be forced to step in.  We do not want to go to war with you."

The tension in the air was nearly suffocating.  The hero wasn't burning to the temperature in the caves, but the malicious glare the taller knight was giving him would have killed any lesser man in fear.  He knew he couldn't return to the castle with news that their neighboring villages were soon to be destroyed.  He also knew Volga had no interest in fighting a war.  Determination kept him in place as he mirrored Volga's posture.  

After an eternity of silence than the faint sound of scratching echoing off the walls (were the dinolfos back?), the dragon knight relented with a long exhale.  If Link knew any better, he would've sworn it looked like smoke.  "Very well. My kin will retreat.  With the amount of livestock they have collected, perhaps we could survive until the next full moon.  Our sources should be replenished by then."

Link blinked a few times in disbelief to make sure he had understood him correctly.  When the dragon relaxed his posture in defeat, the hero beamed.  "As a show of good faith, we will call them back immediately."  

"We?"

A garbled noise left the Hylian's throat as a searing heat cut through the air near him.  He was mostly unharmed thanks to the tunic, but it didn't hide the absolute surprise in his eyes as a fully grown dragon now took place where the man he had clashed with had stood.  This... this confirmed the stories.  The dragon could take tongue of man -- it could also take on the form of one too!  It towered over him as Link stood frozen in place, at a loss for words.  It was a real dragon!

He was pulled out of his thoughts as the reptile plucked him off his feet by the back of the tunic with its beak.  There was no time to protest or scramble out of the caught clothing before they took flight out of the crystal caverns.  Link braced himself and pulled his limbs as close to himself as he could as the dragon weaved between the tight tunnels. The wind and few stray pebbles of stone lashed at his skin.  The wave of blues and oranges that creeped on the ends of his vision soon turned dark, prompting Link to finally open his eyes.  They were no longer inside the caves but now they were airborne in the night sky, soaring up the steep mountainside of Death Mountain.  

Volga must still hold some spite against him for having his ego challenged as the dragon held him closer and closer to the ground, threatening to scrape his body against the rock.  Link would have to remember not to do that again.  The pair reached the peak as quickly as they had taken flight.  Volga released his grip on the hero's clothing and dropped him unceremoniously on the flat rocks as he lowered himself down to the ground, slowly the flap of his large wings.  Link stood up in a huff and glowered at the dragon.  He looked awfully smug underneath his silver helmet as he turned to peer over the edge of the cliff to the villages below.

Link barely had time to brace himself before the ear-piercing screech shook the top of the mountaintop they occupied.  Volga's claws ripped through the earth underneath him as fire threatened to spill from his gaping maw.  The roar was enough to silence the entire province, if not even the entirety of the world.  He wasn't sure when the sound had ended, ears left abuzz from the deafening cry.  Volga had nudge him with the tip of his snout to bring his attention back to over the mountainside.  To his surprise, he saw flocks of shadowy figures scurrying back to the entrance of the Eldin Caves.  

A small laugh left his lips.  He did it.  The villages were spared, and he proved himself that he was capable of taking on an impossible mission.  A smile splayed across his lips as he turned to look at Volga, finding him occupied with digging with the odd chain around the base of his neck.  The glint of a certain blue jewel between the dragon's teeth reminded him that this was their declaration at peace.  The Hylian cautiously approached when he was acknowledged to come forward.  He held his palm open, gifted with the honor of tossing the cursed artifact into the pit of magma behind them.  

With no time to second guess his options, Link tossed the ring into the bubbling lava, satisfied with the splash it made.  The pool sizzled where the ring was thrown and exhausted a plume of purple smoke.  Volga hissed lowly in approval; the fires indeed have exiled the curse of the ring, reducing it to metal.  With some hesitation, Link warily placed the palm of his hand against the side of the dragon's snout, nodding in a small thanks.  The dragon snorted at the gesture, pulling away quickly before making quick work to pick the boy up again.  If this was his way of saying "you're welcome", Link would have kept his appreciation to himself he thought as they made their way back down to the mountain.

At least this time, they weren't flying.

---

"The villages haven't seen any sign of any lizalfos or dinolfos for some time since you've returned," the Sheikah commented, clapping the hero's back.  "Well done."

Link frowned as he brushed the dirt off his face.  It had taken him a full day's journey to return to the castle from the caves, and he still looked less than polished with leaves in his hair and mud staining his red tunic.  Good word had spread among the soldiers, their morale having gone through the roof knowing that the dragon was no threat.

Zelda nodded in agreement with Impa, but her smile died on her lips.  Her expression hardened.  "Please, go on.  What is this about a witch?"

The hero sighed heavily.  He brought his hands up to sign, but was interrupted by the familiar chime of his fairy.

"Let him rest!  Surely he's deserved it, no?"

Link gave a stiff nod before acknowledging the general.  

"Next time, send a negotiator.  Diplomacy isn't my thing."