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#how do you *prepare* to go back to something that no longer encompasses you? and what you now know? and the People you know?
variousqueerthings · 2 years
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I’m really not over the way that MASH nails on the head the tension between what is technically a terrible and severely limiting situation and place, and the odd freedoms a place like this affords to people. They way these people might never have been friends (family) by geography or interests or ideals outside of here, but now belong together, and the way individual idiosyncrasies afford one another the space to exist as a version of oneself who would get stifled/locked up/attacked/exiled/censored/judged in what one might consider “society”
yeah, that’s... literally what happened -- and happens -- over and over
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tealfloyd · 1 year
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ANONYMOUS REQUESTED:
"Okay, okay! Hear me out on this: An MC who gifts every boy and the staff (minus Crowley) a specially made gift (alongside chocolate ofc) for Valentine's Day. For example, Riddle gets a bouquet of roses alongside heart-shaped chocolate, Ace getting a chocolate cherry pie and a watch, and Cater gets a skateboard and spicy chocolate.
I can just imagine the chaos that will ensue.
"Hey! Your chocolate is bigger than mine!"
"No fair! I wanted that too!"
Thank you and have a great day!"
AN UNTYPICAL VALENTINE’S
“Congratulations, MC. You have now become the Santa of Valentine’s Day!”
SUMMARY: It's Valentine's Day in Twisted Wonderland, and you already know what that means: a mix of chocolates and petty discussions~! (Everyone x Fem!Reader)
WARNINGS: None... Other than MC’s empty wallet.
CONTENT: Ortho doesn’t have a section, but his reaction is described in the introduction. Me trying to understand these boys and their past, so they might seem a little ooc. Also Lilia’s part may have end up a little too philosophical. 
A/N: Okay okay. I know Valentine’s was five months ago, and that I was in an unexpected hiatus for more than six months, but I just really wanted to post this because this draft was eating me alive. Also, I don’t know why, but Pomefiore’s part was so difficult to write, and thus, I ended up giving up temporarily.
Annnd, I know that the request asked for the staff as well, but I didn’t want to make this longer than it already is, so I decided I will post it separately. Eventually.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! :)
WORDS: 10K+
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Ah, Valentine’s Day. A lively festivity that encompasses love and friendship, usually celebrated by those who want to demonstrate affection to the people they care about the most, being in a platonic or a romantic way.
Yet, that’s talking outside of Night Raven College, an academy that’s full of eccentric students, and so, on behalf of that eccentricity, things are a little bit different.
And it all starts with your protective and small companion, Grim.
You finished checking your bag for the last time before leaving, assuring that all the chocolates and gifts you packed were inside, afraid of forgetting any of them in the dorm.
“Sevens, how am I going to carry this...?” You murmured while staring at the huge sack that contained all of your presents, thinking that it resembled the bag that a certain character would only use every Christmas.
All you did was sigh, mentally preparing yourself to carry that seemingly heavy Santa bag.
Or at least that’s what you were going to do, until a sleepy voice stopped you from doing so, effectively getting your attention.
“Where are you going, henchman...?” Grim groggily asked, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. “And why do you have that bag...?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Grim’s drowsy expression as you approached him, scratching his head lightly. “You see, since today is Valentine’s, I wanted to make something special for our friends, so—” And before you could finish your sentence, an excited scream echoed from the old dorm, startling you both.
"Did someone say Valentine's?!" Conrad yelled, cheerfully floating around.
"This brings back so many great memories! I still remember all the chocolates I've received when I was alive. Such great days~" Brawley said, his mind consumed by memories from his past, all while wearing a nostalgic smile.
"Oh, what do we have here~?" Arthur asked, curiosity getting the best out of him as he picked some of the presents that were at the top. "Some gifts for your friends, perhaps~?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows in a funny manner.
Letting out a soft chuckle while trying to calm Grim down—who was certainly not happy after the abrupt appearance—, you answered. “Indeed, it’s Valentine’s after all. Do they meet your expectations?” You jokingly asked, prompting a playful laughter from the trio of ghosts.
“I absolutely approve them, but I don’t know if those students will.”
“It's obvious they will! She even has personalized chocolates for all of them!”
“That’s true... I wonder how long it took you to prepare all of this.”
They commented, starting a light chat about the festivity, all laughing and having fun. However, in between the funny remarks and jokes, Grim had enough, whining in annoyance as his brain tried its best to understand what was happening.
“What are ya’ talking about?” He complained, turning to look at you with an angry expression. “Henchman! Explain this madness!”
“Well, Grim,” you started, trying to find the correct words to clarify the meaning of this holiday to him. “Valentine’s Day is—“ Although it seemed that you didn’t have to in the first place, seeing that you were once again interrupted by your strangely excited fellows.
“Oh!”, Brawley exclaimed. “Can we explain it?”
“Yeah, we’re the best people, er- Ghosts when it comes to Valentine’s,” Arthur enthusiastically stated.
“Can we make the explanation, MC?” Conrad asked, and since you didn’t want to ruin their happiness, you agreed.
“The floor is yours,” and with that cue, they stood in front of a confused Grim, who looked at you with slight fear and overall confusion.
It took you a few moments to realize that they took it quite literally as you listened to their old-styled song about the festivity, which maybe overused the word “love” in a romantic way... Yet, it was a detail that you didn’t pay much attention to, instead deciding to enjoy the show.
But someone that didn’t take this lightly was Grim, being that a certain sentence was starting to repeat in his mind over and over again: “A day when love stories start! Who would be the next one to take this important step~?”
He was so alarmed that he missed the part where they explained that it was also a day to share with friends, so the first thing that passed through his head was: “They’re tryin’ to steal my henchman! I cannot let that happen!” 
And so, a genius idea was born.
“I’ll go with you, henchman!” He suddenly exclaimed, taking you by surprise, frowning in response.
“Really?” You inquired, and so did the ghosts, adding themselves to the confusion train while raising an eyebrow.
“What? I’m just sayin’ I’m going with you!” Grim repeated, further confusing you four.
“Yes, I heard that, but why...?”
“Why not?” Your companion said, avoiding answering since he knew you were going to tease him about it, instead choosing to walk towards the front door.
“Why though…?” You questioned for the last time, eyeing him with suspicion as you made your way towards the door, picking the bag—that was, to your surprise, much lighter than you thought—in the process.
“We don’t have time for this! If we hurry, we can come back in time for dinner!”
Now that was the Grim you remembered, and even if you never thought that hearing that sentence would make you relieved your wallet isn’t pleased to hear this though, this time it certainly did.
“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, turning to your translucent companions—who still had their mouths wide open, very much resembling to a cartoon—to wave them goodbye.
“Goodbye, guys! We will see you later! The song was amazing, by the way!” Was the last thing you said before closing the door, snapping the ghosts out of their trance.
“Aw! She loved our song!” Was the first thing Conrad said, happy that you liked their performance, not noticing the strange looks he received from the other two.
“Is he just going to ignore the fact that Grim seemed suspiciously protective over MC?” Arthur asked, and Brawley shook his head, disagreeing with him.
“It’s not weird that Grim is protective over her, that’s like a world-known fact,” he paused for a second, as if trying to think of the results of your sincere actions. “I’m more intrigued by how those boys would react upon receiving such a lovely gift from their oblivious love interest.”
And that, my dear Brawley, is what are we going to witness today.
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIRST STOP: HEARTSLABYUL
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Heartslabyul was your first dorm of choice, and that was because you knew everyone will be in the same place at the same time. It was supposed to be easy; go in and go out.
Yet, what was the first thing you heard when entering the dorm’s living room? Screams. Certainly one of the most welcoming sounds while stepping into a place that embraces the idea of discipline.
Seeing that the other students (or at least most of them) were minding their own business, you thought it was not that big of a deal. After greeting the ones that weren’t busy, you both walked over to the kitchen, encountering a not so peculiar scene: Riddle arguing with Ace.
"Guys?" You asked, eyebrow raised as you wondered what happened.
"Oh, Prefect!" Cater exclaimed, cheerfully approaching you. "Thanks for appearing! This situation was #stressingmeout," he commented, thankful for your presence.
"Prefect," Riddle said after coughing slightly, attempting to compose himself. "What brings you here?"
“Well, since I assume you already know what day it is, I thought it would be nice to gift you some chocolates,” you voiced, chuckled at the expressions of your friends as you gave them their respective presents, who were pretty much baffled to hear that. “Or maybe you don’t know, and the heart motifs everywhere are misleading.”
The ones that caught up the fastest were Trey and Cater what a surprise, promptly putting two and two together and realising the reason behind your sudden but cute action.
"Sevens, is it Valentine's already?" Trey questioned, placing a hand on his hat to cover his face due to the embarrassment.
"Are these for us~?" Cater excitedly asked, already pulling out his phone to document this moment. "They are totes cute! Thanks, Prefect!" He said, taking dozens of pictures of the little red box.
“Valentine’s...?” Deuce muttered, face turning pale after his brain clicked and realised what that meant. “I’m sorry, MC! I don’t have a present for you!” He quickly apologised, bowing before you.
"You don't have to give me anything, you know?" You assured, trying to ease his concern. "I just wanted to gift you all something as thanks for all your help and support, and for being my friends, of course."
And that is how you make the Heartslabyul (and pretty much anyone in NRC) students blush in mere seconds; if these guys weren’t blushing before, now they undoubtedly are.
"Yeah, yeah, enough of these speeches!" Grim chimed, wanting to move onto the next dorm already. "We don't have all day! Let's go, henchman!"
"Geez, what has got into you today?" You said, turning to the students to wave them goodbye. "I have to go now; I hope you liked the— Agh! Grim, stop pushing me!"
In an instant, the two of you departed, leaving behind five startled students who were speechless by the sudden turn of events.
Riddle’s heart-shaped chocolates match his new bouquet of red roses.
Riddle never had a Valentine’s Day celebration before. Mainly because his mom, being the main factor in his life, used to call the holiday a “disruptive event,” and so, he ended up thinking that Valentine’s was an unnecessary and dumb festivity. You can now assume he doesn't think that anymore. As everyone already guessed, this boy was red; in fact, if you inspected his face closely enough, you would notice that his cheeks were tinted with the same shade the flowers gifted to him had, which he used to cover his face. And don’t get me started when he saw the chocolates; he nearly dropped the box out of embarrassment, not believing that you were bold enough to give him heart-shaped chocolates... But it’s not like he’s complaining so please gift this boy more heart-shaped sweets.
Trey’s hazelnut chocolates match his new set of heart measuring spoons.
Trey doesn’t know how he could’ve possibly forgotten about Valentine’s; his family owns a bakery, by the Sevens! He must’ve had the date imprinted on his mind by now! He's just wondering how he didn't think about it before while looking at the gifts, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't have anything for you. Although... That doesn't mean he wouldn't focus on your kind-hearted present, after all, who could after receiving such a detailed gift of your dear romantic interest friend? Immediately after this, he knows that he has to make something for you as well; something to remind you how special you are. Hence, why his mind is in a whirlwind of ideas, contemplating which chocolate would best match your taste, and what’s better, he can use that cute set of spoons you just gifted him.
Cater’s spicy pumpkin chocolates match his new skateboard.
Cater was very aware that today was Valentine's Day. Like, it's Cater we're talking about. He literally spent the entire week thinking of gift ideas for a friend crush in order to find the perfect one for you. He just wasn't expecting for you to pull an uno reverse card on him, or at least not before he gave you your gift. Less to say that he was over the moon with this action; he already had a new wallpaper and ten new posts featuring his new possessions. He was so excited that he forgot he had something for you, and by the time he remembered you were already gone. He figures out he can drop by Ramshackle later, but it didn't take long for him to realise that everyone would have the same idea. Oh well, what a perfect occasion to have a new skateboard~.
Ace’s chocolate-covered cherries match his new frog watch.
Ace has never been a big fan of Valentine's. After breaking up with his first girlfriend, he ended up disliking the romantic idea of the holiday. Though that didn't mean that he didn't like the presents and the chocolates, which he would sometimes receive. He used to feel confident when receiving those, yet he didn't give them too much importance, so he doesn't understand why he was blushing over some chocolate-covered cherries and a stupid frog watch. Like, are you mocking him, MC? Do you really think that he would use such a dumb thing? He definitely doesn't think that this is so cute coming from you, and he definitely is not going to use that watch everyday spoiler alert, he is definitely going to.
Deuce’s cinnamon flavored chocolate eggs match his chicken plushie.
Deuce isn't very versed when it comes to Valentine's. He did celebrate it with his mom, but that was literally it. The only times he received chocolates and other gifts were from anonymous letters, but he thought it was a joke, so he never tried to find the author (which ended up being a girl that had a huge crush on him). Hence why this boy is worried. He definitely appreciates you and your gifts, because it’s not every day that you get a Valentine’s gift from your crush! Like, what is he supposed to give you (even though you said it was fine) after you took the time and effort to elaborate such a wholesome gift? He ends up worrying so much about it that the chocolate has probably melted by now. But don’t worry, his plushie is still safe and sound!
You may be thinking that “they ended up living happy forever after,” right? No. That’s not how Heartslabyul works.
"Hey! Why is your chocolate bigger than mine?!"
"How is that my fault...? Hey! Stop trying to steal my chocolates!"
"There's no need to fight. I'm sure that the Prefect made sure to make everyone's chocolates equally."
"Yeah! You should worry about what to gift her instead~"
“I will take my leave then. You're free to come with me to try to find something that she would like.”
"Why did that sound so condescending...?"
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SECOND STOP: SAVANACLAW
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Savanaclaw’s was the second dorm you entered, and even if you loved the dorm, you weren’t sure how your chocolates were going to handle its weather because, surprise surprise: heat and chocolates do not go well together. Unless they like melted chocolate.
The situation didn’t seem to go any better, as you didn’t know where could the Savanaclaw students be. Well, all of them except for Leona, who was comfortably sleeping on the living room’s couch.
“Maybe we should find the others first. I don’t want to wake—” You commented, being abruptly interrupted by Grim and his yells, sighing upon the situation. “—Him up.”
"Hey, sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Your companion shouted, about to jump on his stomach before you grabbed him, keeping Grim from doing anything he might regret.
“Why are you being so goddamn loud...?” Leona grumbled, groggily standing up with a scowl on his face due to the sudden awakening. Looking at Grim, fully aware that he was the nuisance that interrupted his sleep, he sent him a threatening stare.
Before Grim could reply (or try to, at the very least), you stopped him from doing so, further explaining why you were in the dorm to begin with.
"I'm sorry, Leona. I'm sure it wasn't Grim's intention to wake you up in such a rude way," you stated, briefly glaring at the pouting creature.
"That's not true! And don't think that you've scared the great Grim! I—" Deciding that it was enough, you started to scratch behind his ear, sending an apologetic smile to the dorm leader in front of you, who seemed to be a little annoyed jealous of this action.
"I brought Valentine's presents for all of you," you answered, momentarily shocking the lion for a few seconds before his lips erupted into a smirk.
"Valentine's, huh?" He remarked, stepping closer towards you. "Then I guess today's the perfect day to—"
And just like we saw before (and will continue to see), Leona was interrupted, because students at this college apparently don’t like when people are about to finish their sentences.
Ruggie and Jack weren't far away from where you three were. In fact, both of them were preparing their meals before they heard your voice coming from the living room.
And when they decided to check, what's the first thing they see upon exiting the kitchen? His dorm leader shamelessly flirting with you at a really close distance while you carried a sleepy Grim.
"What do we have here~?" Ruggie chimed, walking towards your side so he could be near you. "What can we do for you, Prefect~?" He asked, ignoring Leona's death stare.
"And why did you bring such a large bag?" Jack questioned, making the two beastmen suddenly notice the heavy bag you were carrying on your shoulders.
"Glad you asked, Jack," you replied, looking through your bag’s different contents until you finally reached the ones that were labelled after them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
Immediately following your statement, you presented them with their respective gifts, easily recognizable by the distinct yellow hue of the packaging.
The beastmen’s cheeks were slowly turning into a bright red after receiving the present, treating the little package like the most precious thing on earth, which was true, at least in their eyes.
"Are these… For us…?" Ruggie hesitated, unsure of how he should react.
"Duh! Didn't you just hear her?!" Grim said, annoyance showing in his voice.
"You're just jealous you didn't get anything," Leona guessed, smirking upon seeing how irked he got by that teasing comment.
"I'm sorry, MC, but I don't have anything for you," Jack apologised, and before he could even think of bowing before you, you stopped him.
"You don't have to give me anything. As long as you like the present, I have nothing to worry about," you explained with a small smile, starting to walk towards the exit. "Unfortunately, I can't stay for much longer. So, I guess I will see you later!" 
And with that, you managed to leave just before your fluffy companion started to complain.
Leona’s smoked dark chocolates match his new lion pendant.
Leona isn’t that used to celebrating holidays, and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He would sometimes receive large amounts of gifts, ranging from expensive jewelry to different sets of clothing; things that he would just leave unused and forgotten. But your gift is a different story. You can be sure this man is going to use that necklace until he dies. He’s not going to entertain the possibility of it going missing in the depths of his bedroom, already frowning at the imaginary scenario of looking at your sad face while you ask where his gift was. He even clicks his tongue in annoyance, putting on the pendant to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere. Let’s see how fast you catch on this one, herbivore.
Ruggie’s mini donuts covered in chocolate match his new handmade bracelet.
Ruggie hasn't received, nor gifted a Valentine's gift ever. Holiday presents were (and still are) something that he deems as important and special. The only times when he did gift something to someone were during birthdays and as thanks, and vice versa. He’s not used to receiving presents outside those situations, and what’s even more surprising to him is that you were the one that brought the gift. Actually, no; what’s more surprising than that is that you don’t want anything in return, something that really caught him off guard. Less to say that he is going to be over-protecting those presents; this was something that you made for him and him only, and so it shall continue that way except the donuts, he can’t let them rot, can he?
Jack’s pear cider chocolates match his new snowboarding gloves. 
Jack has actually received quite a few Valentine’s gifts, but the thing is, just like Deuce, he still doesn’t know who the person behind those presents was. He never paid a lot of attention to it at the time, and so he continued with his life. Now he’s aware that he had to paid attention before. The one day that he doesn’t check the calendar ends up being Valentine’s Day; I can completely assure you that he’s setting up an alarm for the next one, also adding to the reminder some present ideas that say: “you’re my crush,” but don’t scream it. When you leave, he stands so still you can mistake him for a statue; if statues could wag their tail, of course.
Savanaclaw is savage what a shock, right? These boys would not even let the other one stand next to their present. Sevens, they wouldn’t even let them breathe next to their present.
"I feel sorry for you. That's really all the Herbivore got you?"
"At least I will make sure to use it. I wonder how long it will take before that pendant disappears."
"What did you say?"
"I guess I will see you later. I don't want to be a part of this."
"Hey, come back!"
"We haven't even started on your present!"
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, THIRD STOP: OCTAVINELLE
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Octavinelle, as your following choice, felt like a secure place. You were almost sure you were going to find your friends in the blink of an eye, give them their gifts and head to the next dorm. Yet the variable you didn’t have into account was considering how empty and eerie the dorm appeared at first glance.
"Henchman?" Grim started.
"Yeah?" You answered, slowly walking towards the Mostro Lounge.
"Don't ya’ think there's something fishy going on today?"
"What do you mean?"
"Floyd and Jade aren't here."
And upon that remark, you stopped. Looking around to try to spot your usually welcome committee, you noted that Grim was correct. Jade and Floyd were nowhere to be found, slightly confusing you.
"Well, today must be a busy day at the Mostro Lounge. They are most likely working," you said, resuming your walk.
Although Grim didn’t seem to want to continue the walk, scared to be a victim of whatever evil scheme the eels were plotting.
You assured that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him on your guard, to which he responded by saying he didn’t need your protection, rambling about how you dared to think he wasn't strong enough to protect you— Ahem, to protect himself and you, until he suddenly stopped.
"Henchman," he started again.
"Yeah?" you answered a second time.
"I think there's someone behind us—"
Noticing two large shadows that covered yours, you both slowly turned around, encountering two identical faces that looked down on you with a sly smile, vocalizing:
"Shrimpy~!"
"What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Prefect."
Grim let out a high-pitched scream, hiding behind your legs due to the shock, unaware of the death stare that Floyd directed at him.
"Ah, Jade, Floyd. We were just talking about you," you said, sighing in relief upon listening to their characteristic voices.
"Wah~! Did you hear that, Jade? Shrimpy was looking for me~" Floyd exclaimed, to which his twin only chuckled.
"I heard that she was looking for both of us, in fact," and before his brother could whine in response, Jade added. "Why would that be, Prefect?"
"Before I answer to that, do you know where Azul is?" you asked, looking behind them in hopes that the octomerman would appear.
"Azul? Oh, that's right," Jade let out a small smile. "He must be looking for us."
"Eh~? But I don't want to go back!" Floyd whined, thinking about what he could do to avoid going to work again. "Oh!" He exclaimed, an imaginary light bulb appearing over his head. "I can hide behind you, right, Shrimpy~?"
"You can try, but I don't think it would do much," you responded, and just when he was about to do it, you heard a yell coming from the end of the hallway.
"Jade! Floyd!" Azul screamed, walking over to where you were. "Do I need to remind you that you are still working? If you continue—"
"Hello, Azul," you greeted, seeing how the businessman yelped due to the surprise, unaware that you were behind Jade. "Great timing, I was about to look after you."
"Prefect!" He exclaimed, unconsciously tidying himself up, trying to distract you from his earlier action. "And why did you want to see me?" He stuttered, cheeks tinted of a light pink.
"I'm sure you already know what day is today, so I'm just going to give you these," you briefly explained, handing all of them their respective gifts and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
"Valentine's...?" Floyd muttered, face brightening up due to the excitement. "Does this mean Shrimpy loves me~?" He boldly asked, trying to get a shy reaction out of you, all while Azul covered his face in embarrassment, making this scenario all the much more entertaining to Jade, who was lightly chucking.
Yet when all of this unfolded, you talked, saying something that took all three of them by surprise. “Of course, I love you all after all,” you replied with a bright and contagious smile; it was at that moment that Grim realised that if he didn't do anything about this soon, they wouldn't let you go, and he can't let that happen.
"Henchman! We have to get going! Is gonna take us forever to finish if we stay here!" 
You sighed at Grim’s impatient behavior, not really understanding where it was coming from. But he was right; your chocolates weren’t going to last a whole day outside, they just weren’t made for that kind of purpose.
"As you see, me and my new guardian have to get going, so I will see you later," you joked, being weakly dragged by your companion, biding them farewell (hoping that Floyd wasn’t going to carry you like a sack of potatoes, again).
Azul’s blueberry flavoured chocolate coins match his new octopus coin.
Azul didn't really care about Valentine's (and no, it’s not because he was made fun of constantly during this day, why would you think that? It was, please give this boy lots of hugs and support); the only reason keeps track of it is that he knows it's a very profitable holiday. And I said "didn't" because that was before he realised that he had a crush on you... Okay, maybe Jade made him aware, but he still realised it. He spent the last couple of months planning the perfect plan to confess to you or at least try to, but this wasn't on his schedule. He marked this situation as "very improbable," hence why he looks like he has a fever. Furthermore, he tries to dissimulate it since he doesn't want the twins to make fun of him (again), but it's too late. A flustered Azul is always going to be interesting to witness.
Jade’s chocolate shaped mushrooms (like the Meiji Kinoko Chocolate), match his new decorations for his terrariums.
Jade is sort of neutral about Valentine's. He's not one that usually gives gifts (he definitely gave Floyd some mushrooms as a Valentine’s gift, and you can tell he was not happy about it), but he has definitely received a couple of presents, which he usually doesn’t keep unless they're interesting enough. But, if he's being honest, he wouldn't throw away anything that you gift to him; most people would call it "simping", he calls it "courtesy." His first reaction is to smile upon receiving it, yet unlike most of his mannerisms (which he keeps very controlled), this was something that to the untrained eye would go unnoticed, yet his twin and his boss childhood friend know that there's a hint of genuine happiness in it.
Floyd’s sea salt caramel lego-shaped chocolates match his new eel bracelet with his name on it.
Unlike his brother, Floyd thinks Valentine's is a very interesting holiday. He considers it the “funniest” day just because he finds the rejected Valentine’s faces so amusing. One thing he has in common with Jade though, is that he doesn't keep most of the presents given to him, especially if he can't see the reaction of the person. So, to meet his expectations you have to: one, give it to him directly, and two, wait for the best. Fortunately, we're talking about you, so that’s good news for you. Although the bad news is that you only have two options now that you’ve given him something: run or face his clinginess. 
If you didn’t know who these students were, you wouldn’t be amused, but if you do, well, it certainly was strange seeing all three (especially Floyd) staying idle in the middle of the hallway just... Existing.
"Why are you standing there? Go back to work."
"Aren't you going with us, boss?"
"Yeah! That's really unfair!"
"I have some important things that I have to take care of."
"Really? How strange, I remember you said that you had some paperwork to do."
"Oh~ Jade caught you lying, Azul~"
"Just go back to work, and don't even think about following me."
"Do you want to follow him, Jade~?"
"Of course, Floyd."
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FOURTH STOP: SCARABIA
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Since Scarabia was your next stop, you were a bit worried. Mainly because Scarabia’s weather, just like Savanaclaw, wasn’t the ideal for your chocolates to be in. Yet, something that kept your hopes high was your positivism, assuring yourself (in order to not panic) that you were going to find your friends rapidly.
"Henchman, don't ya' think we should hurry? I don't think those chocolates can stand this heat."
"I know, it’s starting to worry me," you responded, face changing from concern to determination. "But I think I know where they could be."
Grim tilted his head, as if asking: "What do you mean?"
"I called Kalim earlier to ask him about his and Jamil's plans. They don't stay in one place for long, so it was only to be sure."
"And where are they then?"
"Right here," you stated, standing in front of a big door: the one that contained all of Kalim's treasures.
You grabbed the handle, ready to open it when suddenly, the door pulled towards you. It collided with your forehead, making you lose your balance slightly, trying to not fall since it could make it worse.
"Prefect!" The Scarabia students exclaimed, worried and confused about what just happened. "Are you okay?!"
"It's okay, I'm okay," you reassured them, holding your head as a reflexive reaction.
"Henchman! Can you hear me?!" Grim yelled, making you wince slightly due to the headache. "How dare ya', pesky humans! She could have died!"
"I'm so sorry, Prefect! Do you need to go to the infirmary? Jamil and I can bring you there!" Kalim exclaimed; eyes full of concern out of fear of something severe happening to you.
"Don't worry, Kalim. I know it was an accident," you said, feeling much better now that they were starting to quiet down. “I’m sure it’s not going to leave a scar or something.”
"Prefect, are you completely sure? We don't have any problem accompanying you to the nurse," Jamil suggested, but you refused.
"Guys, seriously, I'm fine," you said, crouching down, so you could look for their gifts. "Now onto the thing I wanted to talk about..." You handed them the presents and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's."
"Valentine's...?" Kalim asked, thinking about something for a moment before an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. "Oh, that's right! We also have a present for you as well! Right, Jamil?"
Jamil didn't answer, seemingly lost for a few seconds until he snapped out of his trance. "Yeah, that's right," he answered, murmuring a little "thanks," loud enough for you to hear.
"It's nothing. I hope you like it, I tried to make them the best I could."
Before they could show you your gift, Grim had enough of this and decided that it was time to move on, practically dragging you outside Scarabia.
"Goodbye guys, maybe we can see each other later— Grim! Stop pulling me! I only have this pair of pants!"
Kalim and Jamil may be very different, but if they had one thing in common as of right now is that they were completely happy to receive such a heartfelt gift.
Kalim’s coconut chocolates match his new friendship bracelet.
Kalim has definitely received plenty of Valentine's chocolates and gifts in equal amounts, even if most of them came from his parents and his thirty siblings. All of this made Kalim believe that celebrating Valentine’s like that was very normal to be honest, it’s more of a lovely Halloween than most things, but that’s fine, it’s Kalim; at least, the platonic side of it. This could explain why it felt kind of odd when he received your gift, but don’t worry! It’s a good type of odd. He knows that he has a crush on you Jamil’s courtesy, so this gave him the slight hope that you might see him more than a friend one day. And even if not, he’s totally okay with it, since he will still be able of being your friend.
Jamil’s chili pepper chocolates match his new talking parrot plushie.
Jamil isn’t very fond of Valentine’s. It is not a surprise that he didn’t receive as many gifts as Kalim, but he never showed his discomfort to not anger his family; after all, he already knew that he just wasn’t made to give and receive something like that, or at least, that was his mentality until you and your adorable present came into the picture. He just thinks you’re a box full of surprises He had absolutely no idea that he was going to fall for you, but just like he never expected to like you, you surprised him with a gift. You gifted him something. MC, let me tell you that if he wasn’t head over heels for you, he now is.
Scarabia is by far the most normal one out the seven dorms. They’re happy, and that’s all. The difference is that one of them shows it and the other doesn’t.
“Did you see that, Jamil?! She said she made them herself!”
“Yes, Kalim, I heard it. You don’t have to yell”
“Oh, right, sorry!”
“...”
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIFTH STOP: POMEFIORE
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Pomefiore, being the next one on your list, gave you hope. Hope that maybe your original plan will work, and that you would be able to leave quickly enough to continue the rest of your long journey.
But, as you already may have guessed, things can’t be that simple.
“How strange...” You muttered, walking away from the common room after finding it empty. “Where could they be?”
“Nyah! It’s gonna take us forever to find them!” Grim whined, already tired from all the searching. “Can’t we just leave the gifts at their doors?”
“I’m not going to do that, Grim,” you stated, intently searching for your friends. “The whole point of this was to hand them the presents personally, even if it takes me the whole day.” Believe me, MC. It is going to take you the whole day.
“But we can’t just expect them to appear out of nowhere!” He claimed, unaware of the towering figures that stood right behind him after voicing those words.
“Yes, that seems certainly impossible,” Vil said, scaring Grim to the point where he climbed to your arms, hissing at the student. “Oh, did I scare you?” He teased, a bit more playful than usual.
“For your information, ya’ didn’t scare me!” Your companion quickly retorted, and although he tried to come up with an excuse to fight back, you stepped in to prevent a petty argument—certainly a wise decision—.
“So, before Grim can start a discussion here, in the middle of the hallway. Again,” you called out, eyeing him, trying to make him understand the hint. “I would like to give you these.”
“Are these... Gifts?” Epel asked, unsure of why the sudden display of affection. “Why are ya’ giving us this...?”
“Epel, don’t be disrespectful,” Vil corrected, sighing upon seeing that his little apprentice apparently didn’t know what day it was. 
“You see, Monsieur Crabapple. Today is the magnifique holiday called Valentine’s Day!” Rook briefly clarified, proceeding to deliver a monologue embellished with fancy words, listing all the wonderful things that Valentine’s entailed. “How wonderful out of you, dear Trickster, to grace us with these detailed presents!”
The hunter approached you, taking your hands in his as he gazed into your eyes, seemingly aware of the looks he was receiving from his housewarden and dorm fellow.
It wasn’t until Vil coughed that Rook stopped, only chuckling slightly while leaving your hand, not wanting to infuriate his beautiful friend.
“They do seem very elaborate. So, I’m grateful for this present, dear potato,” he thanked, looking at Epel to remind him that he hadn’t thanked you yet.
“Oh! Thank you for these gifts, MC. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to give you in return...” The boy apologized, making you sigh once again.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You commented, amused at your friend’s sincere words. “I’m not doing this in exchange for gifts. This is a gift to thank you all for being amazing friends.”
Ouch. Collective friend-zoning. That must’ve hurt.
“Yet, we do have presents for you, ma chérie,” Rook voiced, not wanting you to go before you received their display of affection.
“Indeed. We don’t have them here, but—”
“No!” Grim interrupted, having enough of the whole conversation. “Henchman, it’s getting late and, we still have lots of gifts to deliver!” He said, trying to convince you to get out of Pomefiore before Vil and Rook’s charms trapped you there.
You turned to the students, doing an apologetic bow before explaining. “I’m sorry, he’s right. I can’t stay for much longer. But I appreciate the intention, and I hope to see you later— Grim! Why are you so impatient?!”
“We have to keep moving! So say goodbye to them already!” The little creature demanded, threatening to rip the hem on your pants.
“Okay, okay! Goodbye, guys! Maybe we can meet later!” Was the last thing they heard you say before disappearing behind a corner with your protective monster-cat.
And so, surprised and with rosy cheeks that weren’t part of their makeup, they headed towards the— Oh, it seems like they don’t remember anymore... You’re giving people amnesia, MC.
Vil's chocolate-covered berries match his new bouquet of violets.
Vil has a long history with Valentine’s Day; specifically the gift part of Valentine’s. This man right here has received countless gifts and cards from fans and people around him confessing their love in extravagant—and sometimes expensive—ways. He’s used to this by this point, but his balance point was broken the moment you decided to hand him that present. Dear potato, have you ever thought about being the partner of a renowned celebrity? No...? Well, would you like to? Because Vil takes this detail as your way of expressing your fondness for him. Sure, you said it was because he’s an ‘amazing friend’ (which he obviously is), but that doesn’t mean you can’t see him as more than a friend. After all, Vil’s patience is truly one of his virtues just don’t tell him you have a gift for Neige. You know, only if you want him to live a bit longer.
Rook’s mint chocolates match his new poetry book.
Oh dear, when I say no one at Night Raven College loves Valentine’s as much as Rook does, I’m being completely serious. We’re talking about a holiday that’s all about expressing love, and taking into account that Rook calls himself “le chasseur d’amore...” There’s not much left to piece together, is it. He is mesmerized by this gift; it doesn’t matter if you said it was to appreciate his friendship, he’s focusing on the fact that you, kind and wholehearted you, seemed to put so much effort to make this present that was for him and him only. Oh, beautiful Trickster; I hope you are prepared, for this dedicated hunter is going to be next at your feet expressing his admiration and appreciation for you in a very... ‘Rook manner,’ for the next couple of days... Or weeks. Maybe months, but it’s not like he didn’t do that from before, so that’s fine.
Epel’s chocolate-dipped apple rings match his new apple plushie (with an evil smile, may I add)
Epel isn’t really involved in Valentine’s. His experience with it consists of him occasionally receiving some gifts from his family and carving out some apples with Valentine’s elements on them. Being the only young boy in a village full of elderly people, we can assume that he never really got into touch with the romantic part of the holiday; at least, not until now. And I have to congratulate you, MC; you just made Epel’s face resemble an apple, and all because of your thoughtfulness. Now, does he think that having plushies is manly? No. But will he put your gift aside because of this? No. Not only because it will make you sad, but also because he assumes it wouldn’t be so bad to have an evil apple plushie in his room. You know, at least it’s evil, and that makes it a bit more manly. Sevens Epel, a manly apple-?
Pomefiore are just turning on the passive-aggressive mode. Nothing can stop these boys from feeling superior just because they received a personalized gift (which everyone got, but let’s not ruin their fantasy).
“Isn’t our belle Trickster so endearing. To take her precious time by making all of us these detailed gifts; ah, what a beautiful way to celebrate Valentine’s!”
“Although yours doesn’t seem that detailed, Rook. Are ya’ happy with that pocket diary?”
“I could ask the same to you, Epel. Although I may say that plushie compliments you.”
“Quit that, please...”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Monsieur Crabapple! The magnifique shade of this plushie truly enhances your beauty!”
“I’m not going to ask you anything from today onwards...”
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SIXTH STOP: IGNIHYDE
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Ignihyde had to be the easier dorm to “infiltrate” so far. The housewarden was known for being a programming genius, but also, and most important of all, for staying in his room.
It was a fool-proof plan. Entering Ignihyde, encountering Ortho along the way, and finally, greet Idia at his bedroom Nothing could go wrong.
And this may surprise you, but contrary to all the things that happened to you today, nothing went wrong. In fact, the list of events I just spelled did happen in that order.
After entering Ignihyde, you were greeted with the usual sight of an almost empty living room, saluting the few students that weren’t occupied with winning an intense game of Animal Crossing.
Subsequent to the first stage of your plan, you encountered the youngest Shroud brother while walking towards the oldest, seeing his cheerful face approach you with a welcoming voice.
“Hello, MC! What brings you here today?” Ortho said, instantly noting the large bag behind your bag. “And why are you carrying that bag? Are my brother and you going to study today?”
You giggled at his comment, shaking your head in refusal. “Not exactly. I’m here to gift Idia a Valentine’s present.” You explained, followed by asking if he was in his room.
Ortho stayed silent for a couple seconds, quickly searching for the holiday you just mentioned, and when he knew what it was about... Let’s just say that his expectations of you confessing to Idia (because honestly, at this point he knows his brother isn’t going to, for now, at least) were rising like the sky-high.
“Of course! My brother will be very happy to see you and to receive your awesome present, MC!” The little one answered, taking you by your hand to guide you to Idia’s room.
As soon as he arrived, Ortho knocked on the door, patiently waiting for his brother’s response.
“What is it, Ortho?” Idia asked, lazily opening the door, thinking that Ortho had come up with another plan to hang out with you. Jokes on him, no plan was needed, as you were right in front of him, a wide smile plastered over your face. “MC—!” He blurted out, surprised to see you.
“Hello, Idia,” you exclaimed, assuming that it would be best if you explained the meaning behind your visit. “I know you may be busy, and I don’t intend to take much of your time. I just wanted to give you this,” and thus you gifted the blue haired boy a small blue box, alongside a translucent bag of chocolates.
“Huh...? W-why are you giving me this...?” The boy questioned, only to be smacked with a reality check by remembering all the special side quests he completed regarding the love and friendship’s special day. “Oh. OH—”
In the blink of an eye his hair goes from blue to a bright pink, not giving you enough time to comment about it since he shuts the door just as fast, too embarrassed to pronounce a word other than a small: “thank you.”
“Brother! Are you okay? Your heart rate is going extremely fast!” Ortho voiced, not really helping Idia’s situation don’t tell him that, he’ll get sad.
“Don’t worry, Ortho. I’m pretty sure Idia’s okay. He must’ve been taken aback, that’s all.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely fine and we should definitely go to deliver these last presents,” Grim suggested, already making his way back to the mirror chamber.
“Not so fast, Grim. I have yet to give Ortho his gift.” The mentioned raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting that.
“A gift? For me?” He uttered while moving his head to the side in curiosity.
“Yeah, for you,” you reiterated, handing him a little box—no chocolates this time because, well, he’s a robot—. “I hope you like it. You can place them wherever you want, and they also got little chains in case you want to bring them with you.”
He stares at the keychains, looking at the similar characteristics between him, his brother, Grim and you; and with a bright smiley face, he exclaims: “thank you, MC! I will make sure to take great care of these!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We have to keep going, if you don’t mind.”
“Goodbye, Ortho. And goodbye, Idia! Hope you like your present too!” You voiced, unsure if he heard you or not.
Oh, and indeed he heard you, it’s just that he’s a little too occupied trying to not die from cuteness overload— Never mind, he just short-circuited.
Idia’s peanut butter chocolates match his new videogame.
Taking into account his past, we can safely say that Idia didn’t really have a lot of experience with Valentine’s, aside from the games, that’s for sure. He never gave or received any chocolates nor gifts, and you know what? He was fine with that; just enjoying his games and not worrying about love and romance at least irl, because this man proclaims himself as an expert when it comes to ships in manga and video games. He was fine, and now he isn’t. His mind is flooded with too many questions, like: why on earth would you give him anything? Is it because of social etiquette or because you wanted to? How did you get your hands on this game? Should he take this as a sign to finally confess his undeniable crush on you—? Okay, he may have gone a little too far with that one. But don’t worry! He is going to do it, it’s just that it might take a bit of time. He’s absolutely going to gift you something back, don’t doubt it. But you may want to wait after the short-circuit passes.
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SEVENTH AND FINAL STOP: DIASOMNIA
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Now, you knew that Diasomnia was going to be a tough one. Firstly, you were sure there was going to be a lot of shouting (Sebek’s courtesy), followed by Lilia, and possibly Malleus’ teasing. Silver was the only one that didn’t really do much apart from being the most normal being out of the four that’s a compliment, Silver. You make MC’s life a bit easier.
“Okay, Grim,” you started, happy upon seeing that this was the last location. “After this, we can go back to Ramshackle and eat the dinner you were so impatient for. Isn’t that exciting?”
No response.
“Well, I know you’re tired, but I have to thank you for accompanying me today. Even if you were a bit rude and odd, it really means a lot that—” 
“The Great Grim is going to fight all of you...!” He interrupted, mumbling incoherent things while you looked at his sleeping face, not sure when or how he fell asleep.
“I should have guessed that a whole day of walking may end up in this,” you muttered, carefully lifting him up so he could rest in your shoulders, trying to accommodate him the best you could as you made your way towards the Witch of Thorns’ dorm.
If felt strange having Grim by your side and not hearing him chit-chat with his characteristic tone, after all, it’s not like Grim and silence usually got along unless he was sleeping or reprimanded.
Feeling a bit bored, you started to hum softly, slowly strolling to find the garden, where you thought your friends might be.
It didn’t take long for you to encounter them, and they, likewise, didn’t take long to notice you were there. 
Malleus approached you first, a smile spreading across his face upon seeing you. “How delightful it is to see you, Child of Man. What brings you here today?” He asked, unsuspecting of the surprise you’ve prepared for all of them.
“Oh. Don’t tell me the rumors are true,” Lilia voiced, floating behind you to take a peek inside your bag. It seemed like him, unlike the rest of the dorm, was aware of your intentions.
“What rumors...?” You questioned, keeping him from grabbing one of the small boxes sitting at the bottom of the bag. 
He blinked in surprise, followed by a giggle after realising that you had no idea what was being said behind your back. “I wouldn’t like to ruin the surprise. It’s something you may want to express yourself, am I right?”
“Master Lilia! What do you mean by that?” Sebek shouted, prompting you to shush him quickly so Grim wouldn’t wake up. “You dare to quiet me down, human—!”
“Sebek,” Silver intervened, noticing the sleeping being on your shoulders, and thus he pointed it for the green haired boy to see.
“I’m sorry for shushing you, Sebek. It’s just that Grim is asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you apologized, hoping that your crocodile friend would try to lower his voice at least a little.
“O-okay, human. But—!” He paused briefly, trying to not raise his voice. “I’m not doing it because of your orders.”
You sighed, thankful for his thoughtfulness, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Thank you, Sebek.”
Malleus coughed as he eyed his guardian’s red face, wanting to continue the original topic. “Say, Child of Man. You were about to tell us the meaning behind your visit.”
“Oh, that’s right,” you replied, cautiously taking the four remaining gifts to give them to the students. “I wanted to give you something as a Valentine’s Day present. So, I hope you like these details,” you stated, sighing after handing out the gifts, glad that this would be the last parade.
“My, my. I didn’t expect to receive a Valentine’s Day gift until a couple more of years,” Lilia muttered, seemingly happy to see his gift. 
Silver stood silently for a few seconds, quickly realising that he had to thank you, softly expressing his gratitude over your recent action.
Sebek felt in the obligation to ask the purpose of this unexpected act, but since he wasn’t able didn’t want to express it his usual way, he recurred to mumble a small ‘thank you,’ taking you by surprise.
And the last and most dramatic reaction of all had to be given to Malleus. Just as we’ve seen before, he tends to... Overreact a little when it comes to small details like this one; so, in truly dragon-fae fashion, he kneeled before you, took your hand and prepared to say the words he’s been wanting to say for a long time now.
Lilia, however, had to step in, immediately clarifying how Valentine’s Day is also a day express your love for your friends. Less to say that if Malleus had his dragon ears, they would be flopped down like a puppy.
“Well. It seems that your wonderful visit has brought new moments to reminisce about,” the old fae said, trying his best to ease the situation. “We are very grateful for what you’ve gifted us today.”
“I’m happy to see that you’ve liked them,” you voiced, chuckling a bit after witnessing their reactions. “And, although I can’t really stay for much longer, I enjoyed this moment with you.”
You were about to head out after biding them goodbye, only to be stopped by Malleus, who was still a little gloomy for the news he just received. “Do you really have to go now, Child of Man?”
“Unfortunately, I do. It’s already late and Grim might get mad at me if he finds out that he’s not at Ramshackle when he wakes up,” you calmly explained, softly caressing his cheek as you walked away, promising him that you would have more time to spend together tomorrow.
You better keep that promise, MC. Malleus is already too dejected to suffer another deception.
Malleus’ gelato truffles match his new gargoyle keychain.
Malleus’ knows what Valentine’s is, but his knowledge about it is limited to the romantic part of it. Hence why he is about to pursue you, ready to propose, again, and take you to his castle so that you can live a long and happy life together; until Lilia explained him the other side of the holiday, disappointing the dragon fae. Well, excuse him, Lilia, but how was he supposed to know that humans also celebrate their friendship during Valentine’s. He’s frustrated, but also enchanted  in a nutshell, he’s a mess right now. Yes, he’s still quite sad that this wasn’t a confession and that he may have to wait a bit of time before making a move on you, but nonetheless, you just expressed that you care and appreciate him, and that, at least for now, was enough for him.
Lilia’s green tea chocolates match his new bouquet of black and fuchsia roses.
Lilia has witnessed and experienced many Valentine’s days during his life. He probably has enough information to fill an entire encyclopedia about it, maybe including some of his stories as a bonus. Having lived for so long, Lilia finds enjoyment in how humans celebrate their holidays; and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He reminisces about his past lovers and confidants, basking in the subtle aroma of his recently acquired bouquet while thinking about all the memories he made along the way. This may sound like something an old man would say, but Lilia truly relishes in the fleeting moments that life graces him with; he most definitely takes delight in spending those moments with you, happy to see that you also enjoy his presence.
Silver’s cashew chocolates match his new deer plushie.
Silver’s pretty much indifferent towards Valentine’s. He doesn’t have time to celebrate these kinds of festivities when he has to make sure his young master isn’t in any danger. But he guesses that once a while won’t hurt... Malleus and Lilia are within his sight, Sebek is right next to him, and he doesn’t have the will to reject your gift. After all, who is he to decline such a selfless act? He gives you a warm smile as his cheeks turn into a slight shade of pink, uttering grateful words until he was too sleepy to continue the conversation. Just as he was slowly falling asleep, he unconsciously hugged his new stuffed plushie, unaware of the future teasing his father would carry out. Well, seeing the bright side of it though: he had an splendid nap and you had another sleeping beauty Silver picture. A win-win situation indeed.
Sebek’s lemon caramel chocolates match his new crocodile and dragon mug.
Sebek wasn’t and still isn’t fond of Valentine’s Day. In fact, he’s not fond of almost any of the holidays that you, mere humans, like to celebrate. However, even if he states that he doesn’t care about your gift and complaints about your display of affection towards his young master, Sebek ends up liking you a little bit more than usual. Don’t be mistaken, human! It’s not because of the cute action you just confer upon him, why would you even think that? He just thinks that a gift like this can be very useful, that’s all! He’s not smitten by your sweet smile, kind and thoughtful self, or the way your eyes shine when you’re happy... Wait, what was he saying? Oh, of course! He’s definitely not smitten by any of those things I just mentioned, so don’t you dare to think that after he gifts you your Valentine’s gift. What? It’s called being polite, you know?
Diasomnia might be the only dorm that doesn’t take down the gifts from the other students. Most likely because they were all a happy and beloved family... And also due to them thinking very highly of their presents. But is something that most people have done at this point, so the first part still stands.
“How come I didn’t know about this...”
“Oh, don’t worry, my prince! For the Prefect most certainly did this with love and effort for all of us!”
“It certainly seems that human put so much care into these...”
“What are you mumbling, Sebek?”
“N-nothing!”
“That’s right. If I gift Child of Man a present deserving of her, I can partake in this celebration with her.”
“What an enlivening idea! This makes the perfect occasion to try out that cookie recipe I got from Jade, kee hee~”
“Father, please don’t.”
INITIAL STOP: RAMSHACKLE
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The wood of the door creaking was the only sound that could be heard upon returning to your dorm. Being accustomed to it, you didn’t think of it as you left Grim on the couch, sitting next to him while watching his peaceful face, far away in dreamland.
“Aww, isn’t he the cutest when he isn’t awake?” Brawley commented, appearing out of nowhere as he floated around the little creature.
“So, tell us, MC. How did you Valentine’s journey go?” Conrad asked, anticipating an answer that never came. “MC?”
When the ghosts turned to look at you, all they found was your sleeping form, who couldn’t resist the tiredness after a whole day of walking and searching.
“Poor thing. She must be so exhausted,” Arthur said, dragging a blanket to shield you from the cold weather. “I can’t believe she really took it upon herself to prepare all of those gifts.”
“Right? I haven’t seen anyone so determined to prepare so many boxes and chocolates without expecting something in return,” Brawley added, trying his best to sneak a pillow under your head.
“Well, she may not expect anything in return, but I’m almost completely sure those boys are going to return the favor,” Conrad voiced, placing Grim in a more comfortable spot close to you, careful to not wake him up.
After that, your ghost fellows decided to float around for a bit, talking amongst themselves to guess what the gifts your friends had for you might be, also questioning if they were also thinking of competing not only for your attention, but for your love as well.
THE END~
DON'T REPOST.
EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.
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marasvenus · 7 months
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How An Author Would Describe You & Your Person ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
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Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.
Book a reading with me here!
Pile 1 ࿐
This is actually a very cute energy 🥹. If you were in a book, I think the book itself would be about your child/children but you and your person would play such a huge part in it.
An author would describe the two of you as a couple that had been through so much but came out of all of it stronger than ever. Maybe the two of you got together very young and struggled through some of the most transformative years of your life together, loving each other through a million different stages as you worked to find yourselves and each other. An author would write a lot about the bond the two of you share, the way it’s almost like you can read each others minds and understand each other on a level that is rare and beautiful. An author might write about financial struggles or loss that you may have faced together early in your relationship and how those struggles shaped each of you and your relationship as a whole for the better. There’s a strength and stability in your relationship because you survived your lowest points together and loved each other through your worst moments so you could become your best selves together.
Because this books seems to be from the POV of your child, it seems as though your relationship and the strength/stability of it would be referenced a lot in this book. You and your partner would be written in as voices of wisdom and words of advice when it was needed, helping guide the story in the right direction and give the reader hope and a sense of peace. I heard “the book wouldn’t feel whole without you” for some readers, you’d make the book really worth reading.
Pile 2 ࿐
An author would describe this love as a beautiful, all encompassing kind of love. Possibly a first love, the kind of love that you only feel once. There’s a rush of so much emotion and excitement but also fear of the unknown. This love is about embracing the uncertain and opening yourself up to another person in a way you haven’t opened up to someone before. Laying all your cards out on the table and hoping the other person is prepared to do the same. This love would be described as watching curiosity and infatuation bloom into love and admiration for someone that you’ll never get tired of getting to know. It’s about taking someone in for all that they are, mind, body, and soul.
This love would be described one of the most beautiful things that we get to experience as humans and part of what makes life so worth living, written as every beautiful emotion that makes all pain and suffering that we face at some point so worth it. I think you would be the author of the book this love is written in, writing from a place of wisdom and looking back on the past and everything that made you the person you become to be, writing about all the moments in your life that shaped you as a human and shaped you for better or for worse.
Pile 3 ࿐
This love is a love you haven’t found yet. Some of you may be going through heartbreak and I think this reading is meant as a beacon of hope, your guides reminded you that there is better for you out there and it will come when you least expect it. I heard “don’t hold on so tightly to something that no longer serves you”
This love would he written as devotion and certainty from the point of first eye contact. A love that never weavers and doesn’t leave room for any doubt. A love that you are deserving of. This love is a love worth fighting for. This is something you’ve dreamed about since you were a child, to finally receive everything you’ve been giving for so many years. It would be written as kind, gentle, forgiving, safe. This love is pure happiness and bliss and you will never be left doubting it or wishing for more.
This book would be a fantasy or fairytale book. Filled with beautiful scenery. You and your person would be apart of some sort of series of books, a couple that readers root for and want to see succeed. The book would provide readers with the same sense of comfort and safety that you and your person provide each other with. Stories of your love would give readers hope for themselves and their future.
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scoonsalicious · 2 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 16, Unaccompanied - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
Word Count: 881
Previously On...: You were juuuuust about to leave for your first mission with Bucky, but have been felled by a nasty stomach bug, leaving Bucky to go off on the mission alone :(
A/N: Fuck it! I'm in a generous mood!
Dun, dun, DUN! NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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You woke up a few hours later. You felt a bit better, but an all encompassing fatigue still settled over your body. You stretched and grabbed your phone to check the time. Glancing at your phone’s screen, you saw you had multiple missed calls from Bucky, and text messages asking you to call him back as soon as you could.
Concerned, you hit the button to dial him back. He picked up immediately.
“Baby,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “I am so sorry, I have no idea how this happened, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I was fully prepared to go by myself, but—”
“Bucky,” you interrupted, “what are you talking about?”
“Fucking Carthage,” he seethed, and you could feel his anger through the phone. “She’s on the Quinjet with me. I told Steve I was fine going alone, but I set the autopilot for takeoff and she was just there. I’m so sorry, sweets. I know you got no reason to believe me, but I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. She’s the last person I want to be trapped in this bird with, let alone on a mission with. I locked myself in the fucking cockpit just to keep her the hell away from me.”
Your stomach dropped, but you could hear the anxiety and rage in his voice, and maybe you were stupid, but you truly believed this had taken him by as much surprise as it had taken you. “It’s okay, baby,” you told him after you’d taken a breath, not realizing you’d let the endearment slip through. “I believe you; it’s not your fault.”
“I promised you I’d cut her out,” he bemoaned. “This makes me a fucking piece of shit all over again, and I hate it. I hate what it must be doing to you right now. I’m so sorry.”
You were feeling nauseous again, though from your stomach bug or the current situation, you weren’t quite sure. “You can’t help this, Buck. It’s beyond your control, I get that. I really do. I know I can’t expect you to ignore her while you’re on a mission together. You don’t have to worry about breaking your promise to me right now, okay? It’s extenuating circumstances.”
“I’ll only talk to her about mission-related shit,” he promised. “I’ll ignore everything else, I swear.”
“Yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, that’s good. We can work with that, Buck. It’s okay; we can get through this.
“I’m so sorry, Pocket.” Bucky’s voice was mournful. “It’s another promise I made to you that I’m not keeping. 
You talked to him for a while longer, reassuring him you didn’t blame him for the current state of affairs, and that you weren’t going to hold any contact he needed to have with her against him. Occasionally, you could hear Jade pounding on the cockpit door, and Bucky would shout that, if it wasn’t about the mission, he didn’t want to hear it. 
After about an hour and a half, Bucky swore softly. “I’m sorry, sweets– looks like we’re heading into a storm. I’m gonna have to take the jet off autopilot and fly her manual til we’re through it.”
“Yeah, of course, Buck,” you said, knowing he was telling you he had to hang up. “Text me when you land, okay?”
“‘Course, doll,” he said, and you could hear him smile into the phone. “I’ll be doin’ everything in my power to get this mission over as soon as possible.”
“Just come home to me safe and sound, Barnes,” you told him. “That’s the important thing.” 
“Always,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Hey, Buck?” you asked, before he had a chance to hang up. “I love you, okay? So much.” You still did, despite everything, and you wanted him to know it.
“I don’t deserve you, sweetheart,” he said, “but I love you, too. More than anything.”
You said your goodbyes and were left in the quiet of your room. You needed to have a conversation with Tony, but before you set out to find him, you had one burning question you needed answered.
“Hey FRIDAY?” you called.
“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” came the disembodied Irish voice.
“Why didn’t you alert me when Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Carthage interacted aboard the Quinjet?” you asked.
“You asked for all interactions within the Tower,” FRIDAY replied. “The Quinjet does not technically meet the parameters of your request and thus was not included.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course the AI would get caught up in semantics. “Okay, fine. Adjust the parameters of the request to include any and all interactions occurring between the two on the Quinjet, as well,” you requested. 
The AI agreed, and you let out a sigh. You felt terrible about essentially spying on Bucky, but the truth was, you still didn’t fully trust him again. You wanted to, more than anything, but you just couldn’t. You hated what you had become, what the situation, his actions, had turned you into. If you were the kind of girl who believed in a higher power, you’d be praying to any deity who would listen that this mission would be over before your anxiety got the best of you.
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awkwardgtace · 1 year
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Statues Aren't Great For Hiding
well anon for day 12 we have that new kind of setting for melody and kyrie. Hope you see this!!
Kyrie is just trying to watch Melody, but things go wrong.
Statues Aren't Great For Hiding
Kyrie had to hurry. Byss and Pel had taken longer than usual to go to bed. All the preparations were done, but they were a bit nervous for the next few days. He had to fake sleeping while they worked, but with how long it took he actually fell asleep. He just had to hope he hadn’t missed too much.
He slid as the opening in the wall came into view. As always he hit the base of one of the statues. It was placed in the perfect spot, it took a while to confirm that his impact could never knock it down. Of course he was a little proud of the times he had to push it back into place. 
“Oh, gotta go guys. Finally gonna finish the fight,” the human in the room said. Kyrie poked his head out from behind the statue. He hadn’t been too late, she wasn’t playing the game yet. Kyrie slid to his knees, quickly pulling out his canteen and getting comfortable. “Yeah yeah, tomorrow it’ll be all over the news. ‘Melody failed to finish her game for the tenth time in a week’. Shut up, bye.”
Melody laughed and Kyrie smiled. He loved watching her play games or just talk to the people in the computer. She had some weird habits when she played games lately though. She’d turn around and almost scan the room. More than once he swore her eyes had found him, but she never acted. Each and every time she’d turn back to face her computer and start the game.
This time she hovered with her eyes looking towards him longer before she spun around. He shuffled further behind the statue, but he couldn’t keep himself from staring into her eyes. He’d never thought brown could shine until he saw those eyes. A part of him wanted to talk to her. He knew the rules, the risks, but those eyes always looked kind.
“Damn it,” she growled. The words made him shy away. It reminded him why he couldn’t risk it. She did have an anger, could get loud, her brother would bring up her issues at times. When she would punch walls or throw things. Kyrie had never seen her do the violent things though. “All the work I put in for inventory management earlier is gone. The fuckin save corrupted.”
Melody leaned forward and focused on the screen. Kyrie shuffled back out to use the base of the statue like a seat. From here he could see her scrolling through a list quickly. He didn’t have the best reading skills, but he didn’t think humans could read as fast as the letters changed. Another thing that kept him from taking the risk to meet her like he wanted. She saw things and understood too quickly. She was why Byss and Pel were so nervous. She’d be alone in the house for a few days.
“Mel, I got you something,” the other human’s voice echoed through the house. Kyrie shivered, that one was who would catch them. Melody always acted terrified of bugs that made their way inside, the other one killed them. Her scream would always lead to his appearance and a loud bang of something tiny being squashed. “It’s something you thought you missed out on.”
“Crap,” Melody’s whisper made him jump. She was usually excited when her brother brought her things. It was usually another box of something she’d put up on the shelves he often hid on. The shelf he was currently on…
Melody was up faster than he’d ever seen her move. Usually she had slow movements, like she was trying to make them easy to read. This time she was towering over him before he could even think. The same eyes that he always imagined finding him were staring right at him. No chance of it being a mistake. They were worried, scared, and angry.
Kyrie tried to move, but her hands were already around him. She’d talked about having small hands, but right now he couldn’t believe that at all. He wanted to scream or fight, but soft slender fingers wrapped around him. He curled up as the hand turned into an all encompassing fist. If he stayed standing he’d be taller than her palm, he stretched out just in time to see over her pale skin. He hated that her hands were soft.
Just as the fist became tight enough he couldn’t move the door clicked open. She pulled her hand behind her back and turned. From where he was held he could see the computer and the window. The screens were black and he saw the other twin walk in with a new statue in his hands. 
“Cap, what did you find?” she asked. Her voice rolled through him in a way he’d never felt before. He’d never considered her voice deep, but here he could feel the bass. 
“That statue of the guy you played in replicant,” Caprice said. Byss and Pel never worried about him. He didn’t care when something didn’t add up, but Melody always did. This was the worst situation for him, in the room with both at once. Melody was holding him in a way that would make it easy to give him to her brother. To have his life crushed because her fear won and he was something small.
“Wait, you got brother nier?” 
Kyrie shivered at her excitement. She might forget about him, let him go and he’d fall. She was observant, but clumsy. The fingers around him didn’t move at all. She started to bounce on her feet. Kyrie was terrified.
“Yup, can I add him to your shelf then?” Caprice asked and Kyrie flinched. The man was already grabbing for the statue he’d been hiding behind. There was no way Melody was protecting him… right? She hadn’t grabbed him to hide him, the two always told each other they didn’t keep secrets. She’d show him off right away.
“Please do, right next to the nendroid I got of him,” Melody laughed. 
She pulled her hand from behind her back and held it near her chest as Caprice moved closer to the shelves. Kyrie could see the moment Caprice lifted the statue he always hid behind. If he closed his eyes he could see the angry look as the man took care of a pest for his sister. He’d seen it before, the secret acts of pests killed before Melody could be scared.
Kyrie stayed terrified as Caprice easily moved the statue he always hid behind. The one that he’d barely managed to turn by crashing into with his full weight. He knew humans were terrifying. He knew watching Melody during the day was a risk. He never thought he’d be forced to watch this. It was like she wanted him to see what his fate could or would be.
As soon as the new statue was set on the shelf, he was moved again. This time held at Melody’s side. Her fist tightened a little, but Kyrie was too scared to even squeak. Caprice turned around and wrapped Melody in a hug. The hand holding Kyrie was left at her side, but where he was let him see Caprice’s arms right where she’d first been holding him.
Melody just might be protecting him.
“This is great Cap, thank you so much. I thought he’d be impossible to find,” Melody said.
“I owe you something when you keep replacing my binders before even I know I need a new one,” Caprice laughed. They pulled apart and Melody placed both her hands over her heart. The one Kyrie was in was covered by the other, Caprice still couldn’t see him.
“Hey, I’m gonna do anything I can to help my brother feel comfortable. Now leave before I decide that fact stops when you hold up my horror games.”
“I just brought you a statue, you could be nicer.” Kyrie watched as Melody pushed Caprice out.
“Yes and I appreciate you, but you need to leave in less than an hour and I want to finish this today. I already told the others I’m finishing today and they don’t believe me.”
“Well you aren’t going to. You’ll start then decide to play with the figure because you always do.”
“Shut. Now go, and have a fun trip. Make sure to text me when you get there.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Caprice turned and pulled Melody into another hug. Kyrie was squished between them, her soft chest was all he could feel besides her hand. It was sort of nice. “Really Mel, thanks. I’ll tell mom and dad you were sad you couldn’t come along.”
“Thanks Cap.” She pushed him away again and turned Caprice to leave. “Go, you actually wanted to go to the reunion. Enjoy it ok?”
“Alright alright.”
Finally Caprice left and Melody slowly shut the door. Kyrie watched her lock it. It was only then he noticed the way the massive heart beneath him was beating. The panic in it as she turned away from the now locked door. Her steps were deceptively light. She wasn’t a thin human, the other one was. His steps were always so much heavier. 
“Ok, that’s handled. No way he knows anything is up,” she mumbled. Kyrie tensed, she talked to herself a lot. That didn’t make this easier. Even if she was hiding him from Caprice she’d kept him in her hand. Tightly trapped and unable to run. It was only then he realized how high he was from the floor, how easy a fall could kill him.
She sat in the chair she used for her computer. He could see the dark screens reflecting her nervous face. It made it clear how little he existed while she held him like this. Her chest was heaving beneath him as she took deep breaths. Each inhale pushed him out and each exhale had him closer to the panicked beat. Slowly the hand around him moved away from her chest.
Melody brought her hand down to the table in front of them. Kyrie had tears in the corners of his eyes. She hadn’t let Caprice see him so maybe she didn’t think he was a pest. Maybe she just thought he was some cool figure? Maybe she’d think he was a dream and let him go? Maybe… he should have listened to Byss and Pel, stop sneaking out to watch her. Stop being curious and daydreaming about if he revealed himself to her.
The fist around him loosened slowly. As soon as her fingers started to become just a cage he fell to his knees. How would he get out of this? How would he tell the others they had to move? How could he even face them if he survived this? Eventually the slender fingers were gone and all he could do was stare up at the shining brown that he was wishing hadn’t seen him all those times he thought they did.
“Are you ok?” she whispered. Kyrie couldn’t make himself talk. Her hands were still close, they could close in on him. Was she going to see him as a pest once she learned anything? “I’m so sorry about that. I knew Cap would go right to the shelf and set it up. I didn’t want him to find you.”
“What?” he breathed. Melody shifted. The brown hair she used to make strange colors rested on the table around him. Her eyes were directly above him, he could touch them.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you well. I-I didn’t hurt you right? Oh man I don’t think I know what to do if I did. Shit, shit, shit.”
“What are you gonna do?” His voice sounded stronger than he felt. Those shining brown eyes had tears pooling at the edge. Her hair smelled nice, like the hall near the bathroom when she showered. He was strangely at ease like this, encompassed and hidden by her. By a human that should terrify him.
“Probably go back to my game so I stop panicking about grabbing you? Unless you leave then probably try to watch some video…” 
“Why?”
“You’ve been watching me haven’t you?”
Kyrie scrambled back when she said that. She wasn’t supposed to know. Every time he thought she’d seen him… She had. Now what would happen? He knew she knew, she’d do something to them. That was humans. Even if he didn’t believe she would. Her fingers came near to him again. He was terrified.
“Hey, hey it’s ok. Fuck I messed this whole thing up. I’m so bad at shit like this. Why don’t we try something else?” Melody sat back and changed the way her fingers hovered. One sat just in front of him. “I’m Melody, but maybe you knew that already.”
Kyrie took a deep breath and reached out for her finger. His nails easily dug into her skin, but she didn’t react. “Kyrie…”
“Nice to meet you, officially I guess.”
When she laughed, Kyrie's heart skipped. All this time he had wondered what she’d do. If she’d hurt him or call Caprice to kill him like a spider. They never had mice, but that was mostly because of Pel. She hated dealing with them in the walls, it was ten times worse at their size. He tightened his hold on her finger, using it as leverage to stand again. He felt so small next to her, he was supposed to be tall among borrowers.
“You didn’t hurt me,” he said. A smile was sent his way. A smile that he’d seen so many times, that he dreamed about facing him so many times. That in his worst nightmares smiled at him while Caprice killed him. “Why did you hide me? I thought you two don’t do that.”
“Oh,” she sighed. Her smile changed, softer than before. A warm far off look. “Well, to be honest when I was a kid I used to watch this show with little people your size. They had mouse tails though. I kind of figured if you were real it was the same as the show, I shouldn’t know about you and Caprice shouldn’t either.”
“Humans know about me?” 
“No, creatures like you are just stories. A story that’s apparently real, but not one I get to tell.”
“So you… you won’t tell him about us?”
“Us…?” She tilted her head, it was cute, but he realized what he did. He let her know there were more. Kyrie ran, he had to get home. If she decided to change… He shook his head. Byss and Pel had to know. They had to be ready. “Wait!” Her hands slammed down around him. Kyrie couldn’t stop himself from ramming into them. He fell off his feet and looked up at those shing brown eyes.
He shook, the bit of confidence he was gaining died. At the end of the day she was human. She had control in this situation. Except her hands disappeared. She stood up, her full height a terrifying image. She walked away from him. Kyrie could run, get home, tell the others and they could move. Yet he couldn’t make himself leave.
“I shouldn’t have stopped you, I'm sorry,” she said. Her voice carried so easily. He wished his own could do that. “I mean, I’d be terrified if I was that small and someone did that. I just… I’m not going to hurt you or anyone like you.”
She turned around and her eyes were closed. She smiled, but it looked almost empty. There were things she talked about recently. Caprice was going where a lot of humans would be, humans they both knew, but she wasn’t. It was when he talked most often about her throwing things or punching things, when he mentioned their past.
“It’s ok really, I know I can be scary. I can leave the room if you want so you can run without wondering if I watched. Although I always kind of assumed you were coming out of the wall near my shelves,” she laughed again, but it was hollow. There was something that he’d heard faintly. He could barely understand what it meant, that she was a problem in high school. He didn’t really know what that was, but she wasn’t scary.
“I’m not afraid,” he said. Somehow his voice traveled like her own. Just like he wished it could. Her eyes opened wide, the shine he had been enamored by seemed to grow. She started to take a step forward, but hesitated.
“You can stay there while I play today if you want.” It was Kyrie’s turn to be shocked. He had so many questions that he always wanted to ask. Just considering how she knew what the fast moving letters met.
“Really? Won’t I get in the way?” 
“How? It’s not like you’ll be sitting on my mouse.” 
“You have a mouse?! I’ve never seen it?” Melody walked forward, sitting back in the chair. She leaned forward, a warm smile. She put a finger on the thing she always had her hand on.
“This is called a mouse. It’s not a real one, just because it used to kind of look like one. Mine’s a bit too glowy for that.”
“Can… Can I ask you questions?”
“I mean you kind of are aren’t you?” Kyrie was excited to be what made her laugh. He knew Byss would kill him later, but he liked this. He liked Melody, he’d liked her since they first got here. Even when she screamed in fear at bugs or begged Caprice to kill them. He wasn’t a bug right. “I sort of expect it, go ahead. I might ramble if it’s about the game though.”
“What am I?” It slipped out. He covered his mouth with his hands, he didn’t want to know. The bit of his dreams coming true would fall apart.
“A person? I mean is there a word I should know? That show I talked about said littles, but honestly sounds kind of weird to me. I mean humans don’t call elephants bigs or anything. I guess maybe you’re a brownie? Or some other fairy kind of thing?”
“What happens if I scare you?”
“Uh… you scare me? I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” Melody leaned forward again. Her hair surrounded him. This time he reached out, feeling the soft brown he’d been curious about. He wanted to ask so many things, but what if she decided to hurt him? “I mean Cap just barges into my room sometimes and scares me, I hit him once by accident. That’s kind of all I got.”
Kyrie didn’t know what to say. If she knew what he thought would she be mad? Would she change? At the same time he was scared she’d never hold him again. Her hands were soft and even unsure about what she was doing they made him feel safe. He didn’t want to be afraid of her, to wonder if she’d change. Except what if it was Pel or Byss they were shorter than him. Would it change what she saw…
“Why am I different?” he whispered. Melody leaned even closer. Her breath washed over him. He looked up and touched her face, she shivered. “What if I was the size of some of those bugs?”
“Is that what’s scaring you?” her words were soft, warm. It was all he could think of with her. “You’re not a bug. Even then if a spider could talk I’d be a lot less scared. I could ask it to leave rather than hope it won’t touch me.”
“So it’s because I talk?” Somehow that didn’t help. It made it worse, what if it was Pel and she was frozen. What if it was Byss and he refused?
“Well no, I mean obviously talking helps. I wouldn’t just volunteer to have something killed for no reason. I can ask Cap to stop killing bugs if that’s what worries you. I just have always been anxious about them…” She leaned back a bit. “You’re big for whatever you are, aren’t you?”
Kyrie could only bring himself to nod.
“Looking like a person definitely helps, but honestly I only really scream about spiders and house centipedes cause those things are terrifying. Although, I can be terrifying too. Maybe I’ll just need you to be the one to handle the bugs instead of Cap from now on.” He knew she was joking, but his cheeks flushed a bright red. He kind of liked the idea of protecting her. It helped that her voice was so quiet he knew no one else could have heard it. Not even another borrower. 
“Let him go!” Byssal’s voice echoed in the room. Melody pulled back to look around, her eyes locking on the tiny man with green hair. Kyrie didn’t know what would happen next.
“Bye Mel!” Caprice’s voice yelled from somewhere else. This would be the time for her to call for him. To get help to take care of Kyrie, Byss, and Pel. Her hands surrounded him.
“Bye Cap, Have fun lemme know if you get any good gossip!”
Her hands disappeared and he was left in silence. He stumbled a bit away from her to see Byssal standing on the shelf of figures. The one added today made him look even smaller than normal. Melody stood up, the fact he knew she was short for humans made it worse. She walked over to Byssal and leaned close to look at him.
“Ok, I see why you’d be worried,” she said. Then she spun on her heel, marched back to Kyrie and reached for him. He tensed as her fingers grew close so she stopped and set her hand flat instead.
Kyrie could feel Byssal’s gaze. The older man had taught him so much, been almost like a father. Here he was breaking all the rules, talking to a human, going out when she was here alone, and now he was climbing right into her hand. He felt kind of big next to her though. Maybe her hands were small and he’d say it another time.
Melody curled her fingers up around him as soon as he was in her palm. She pulled him up from the table to her chest and honestly he liked it. He liked her powerful heart beating behind him. The soft feeling of her around him. He didn’t want her to put him down ever. He wanted more of this. Sadly she reached the shelf and brought her hand to Byssal.
“I won’t do anything to any of you,” she whispered. He looked back at her smile. “You’re free to tell me if you need anything. And I won’t tell my brother either.”
“She wasn’t keeping me,” Kyrie whispered. Byssal still glared at him. The older man grabbed his arm and dragged Kyrie off the warm palm. Together they disappeared into the wall, looking back he caught a glimpse of her waving. He could see in her eyes she didn’t think they’d meet again.
Byss dragged him through the walls. It would be easy enough to overtake the older man, but Kyrie didn’t want to make him angrier. By the time they reached home he wasn’t sure anything that happened was real. Melody being so kind, hiding him, saying he could protect her from what scared her.
“Kyrie!” Pel’s shout knocked him back to reality. She pulled him into a hug, she was less than half his height. “We were so worried. Why would you go out when you know the girl is the only one here?! She might have seen-”
“She did,” Byss cut her off. “I found him trapped on her desk. She just… gave him to me.”
“I wasn’t trapped!” Kyrie tried. Both his parental figures glared at him. Byss ran a hand down his face and sighed.
“We have a lot to discuss, and decide tonight.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Melody hadn’t felt great after meeting the tiny people in her home. Caprice wasn’t going to hurt them, but she would still keep quiet. It wasn’t likely they were even still there if the stuff from those old shows related to them at all. It had already been a day she had to get over it. The game she planned to finish sat staring in her face, but she didn’t really want to do it without her little audience.
For about the tenth time in as many minutes she let out a heavy sigh. Closed her games launcher and focused on a movie instead. There were plenty she liked watching, although she was a bit more interested in ones with tiny people which wouldn’t help right now. She had imagined meeting one when she was younger, but she never thought they’d think she’d want them dead.
Melody settled on a silly animated movie she watched a lot. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes as the opening played. She’d heard it a hundred times, could picture the scenes in her head. It would help her relax at least.
“Isn’t it hard to watch these things like that?” Kyrie’s voice made her jump. She stared down at her desk, shocked to find the tiny man staring up at her. His smile was so wide it made her own face hurt. “You watch this one a lot, why is that? What are they called anyway? Oh… am I still allowed to ask you questions?”
Melody laughed, “It’s not like you got to ask any yesterday. I just like this, it’s called a movie. I closed my eyes because I know it so well… Is this your visit to tell me you’re leaving?”
He walked forward and two other people smaller than him walked out. Kyrie truly was big for his size. Next to him was the green haired one from yesterday, a little more than half Kyrie’s height and a blonde one even smaller. She leaned forward, frowning as the green haired one moved to protect the blonde one.
“You didn’t have to give me more proof,” she whispered. A vain hope it would lighten the tension. “I could already see why you were worried I’d hurt one of you. None of you had to come see me.”
“We’re here to talk with you,” the green haired one came forward. Melody nodded. “Humans like you are dangerous and we shouldn’t trust you. There’s more stories than I could ever tell to explain why talking to you like this is foolish-”
“What he means is we’re willing to take a risk if you’re willing to listen to some rules,” the blonde one cut the green haired man off. 
“As long as it’s not killing someone I think I can probably listen.” Kyrie was beaming as he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that before, it made her struggle to keep her eyes on him.
“You won’t tell anyone, even the other human you live with, that we’re here. You won’t touch us unless we allow it or it’s to stop another human from seeing us.”
“What if you’re in danger and don’t know it? Like I don’t know a cat’s about to pounce or something?” The three small people shivered, Melody grimaced. It was clear she made a bad choice of example. The blonde stepped forward again.
“Those times are ok too. More so only if it’s an emergency.”
Melody nodded.
“You won’t ask us about what we are or others like us. No stories written about us either. Like the one you brought up, nothing like that.”
“I don’t think I’d be good enough to write about silly adventures you take. A hard hitting drama maybe,” the glares made her joke fall flat in her throat, “sorry it was a joke. Even if I wanted to take that route in my life, you’d have to give me the ok first. So I promise no stories.”
“If we ask for something you get it for us, no questions asked.” The green haired man crossed his arms. Something made her think this was the deal breaker.
“Ok, but if it’s hard to get or like really expensive can I ask in case there’s an alternative?”
“What’s expensive?” Kyrie’s question was almost a welcome interjection. He seemed to trust her at least.
“Like it’s hard for me to get or risky to get kind of things. Like if you ask for a diamond I kind of need to know why before I go and get myself into debt or prison or something.”
“We reserve the right not to answer.”
“Then I reserve the right to say no if it’s something unreasonably hard to get.”
The green haired man stared at her. She wasn’t sure what the next moments were going to lead to. He wasn’t happy with her answer, it was clear. She wasn’t going to promise and break it later. Eventually he sighed and stepped forward. A single miniscule hand was held out to her. She brought her finger and thumb close, carefully pinching it between both.
“Then we’ll be staying. You can call me Byssal,” he huffed. She followed as he moved his tiny arm up and down. When she let go it was hard to believe she hadn’t hurt him.
“I’m Pelago, Pel is just fine though!” the blonde smiled. 
“I’m Melody, I hope I can prove you were right to trust me.”
The two turned to leave, she expected Kyrie to do the same. Instead he moved closer to her and sat down right in front of her keyboard. His brazen attitude was amazing. She didn’t know how to treat someone like this, but she liked it. She was careful as she switched from her headset to her speakers. Turning the volume down to protect the small man’s ears.
“Maybe, you can finish that game now?” he asked.
“Let’s finish the fight,” she smiled.
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selamat-linting · 1 month
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so, i was enrolled in a vocational highschool. its the type of school that are halfway a tradeschool. its a program in my country that i quote here, meant to produce ready-made workers right out of the education system. the curriculum for every highschool major you took is different, but i personally never learn biology, geography and chemistry beyond the basics in middle school.
random aside over, for one year me and my classmates (computer programming major) had to share a classroom for normal school lessons with the guys majoring for heavy equipments engineering. one time there was an orientation presentation for them and we had to sit there as the teacher told them the kind of work theyre expected to do. so, theyre going to learn maths and physics and everything else so they know how to operate and fix industrial grade machinery like the massive trucks meant to ship coal around, mega structures to dig tunnels for mining operations.
during the last slide, the teacher showed them a slideshow of workplace deaths.. it was morbid, he said to us that death is inevitable on your line of work. its going to happen. of course we can minimize this by following safety codes, but accidents will happen.
and it doesnt register to me as weird at the time, but its stuck in my mind. like i had the vague sense that something wasnt right. and it isnt. like, he's showing kids that dying on the job, its a tragedy sure, but its normal. its fact of life. my country is an imperialized nation so they never try to lie about whats the purpose of our education. we are here to prepare for work, not to learn. and from the beginning, the oil and mining industry doesnt care about human life. and im thinking of the shares and stocks where all of those profits fueled by death eventually finds itself, in the pockets of men who might never see the inside of a oil tank. or where all the oils and minerals are heading, as i sit here waiting in a queue on the gas station to fill my motorbike even though there's an oil and coal processing site just a few hundred kilometers away still in border of my hometown.
worst part is i know this isnt the worst because someone out there who might even be younger than me is dying for the gasoline im getting, the circuit boards inside my phone, and i know one of my friends online is sleeping inside a car while office buildings and billboards stay lit and functional every day of the year fueled and powered by unimaginable amount of normalized deaths.
and im also thinking of the oil spills at the beach, the days that gets hotter and hotter every year. last year there was a gruesome car accident. an oil truck swerved off the sidewalk and killed a dozen people. its not the only major first accident in that place, as always the old complaints about public safety and roads came back for a while, and they might be satisfied that there's a barricade and a rule for large trucks not being allowed to be on the road during the day, but im also thinking of my friend who worked in the industry as a safety operator, complaining that half of the trucks are overdue for maintenance for years and the drivers license have expired but no one ever did anything about it because theyre on a constant deadline and spending time to do checks only makes the managers yell at you for missing a quota and you had to stay longer instead of getting some sleep or spending time with family, in a job where you already work 12 hours a day on average.
my point is, its all connected. just simply asking where the gas powering your car came from revealed a lot. i know this is retreading the basics but i think its good to remember how interconnected everything is. how the tragedies and genocides and social murders arent an aberration but a logical conclusion of the way society is organized. its a well oiled machine, excuse my pun. its all-encompassing, but seeing it as it is makes it easier to find its weak spot, areas where we can fight. this is why im a communist, specifically a marxist leninist, i do think workers' revolt with international proletariat society is the only way we could break free.
but anyway, all this is to brag about how i never learn geography in highschool and yet i can still name more countries and capitals than the average college student in the us so (⁠^⁠3⁠^). also now that i mention it i also never learn biology but i know more about the human body than your average terf so 😌 shitty schools is not an excuse 💖
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mrsbsmooth · 2 years
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The Alps
One Shot | Link to Ao3
Henrik and Lucas cross paths in The Alps. It's almost as if the universe is trying to tell them something.
for @longbobmckenzie (for the litg gift exchange)
Or Under the Cut
Lucas rounded yet another corner, the crisp autumn morning almost making him want to take his hands from the handlebars and spread them wide. The cold wind nipped at his neck, and he let it rush in through the opening under his jawling. 
He could breathe out here. He could think out here. He could ride forever, and never have to plan anything other than what might be around the next corner. It was solitude. It was beautiful. 
It was freedom.
But there was one last restraint. Some last shackle of control that he couldn’t shake off. He pushed the thought from his head, refocusing on the scenery around him, and it truly was magnificent. The mountains loomed over him like an omniscient God, blessing him with perspective. With humility, for how small he really was. The mountains were incredible, here, snow-capped for now. He wondered if, in the warmer months, they’d be greener.
But for now, all the mountains did was bring him that same feeling in his gut. All they did was remind of–
Lucas’s eyes darted back to the road as a flash of white stepped onto the road, directly in his path. He swerved, and his heart practically leapt from his chest as the bike wobbled beneath him, inching ever closer to the guardrail. He hit the brakes so fast he almost went over the front wheel, but the bike came to a screeching stop. His grip on the handlebars was so tight that his hands were already cramping, every muscle in his body shaking with adrenaline as he tried to come to terms with how close he just came to going over the side of a mountain. 
And that some idiot had almost sent him over it.
As he stepped off the motorbike, Lucas heard rushing footsteps behind him, and he pulled his helmet off, outwardly calm but inwardly seething, already preparing to rip them a new asshole. Of all the irresponsible, idiotic, imbecilic–
“Lukey?”
His head snapped up, and he froze. 
There was absolutely no way. 
His eyes went wide, and there was another flash of white. A flash of blonde. A flash of a huge smile, and a flash of rushing Swede as limbs tackled him in an all-encompassing hug from every direction. 
Lucas couldn’t help but laugh, dropping his helmet to the ground as he threw his arms around Henrik in return. 
“What are you doing here?” Lucas asked, absolutely incredulous.
“I’m hiking! What are you doing here?” Henrik laughed, still not releasing him from the hug. 
“I’m on a road trip!”
And that was where it began. 
Lucas offered Henrik a ride into town, and he accepted, happily jumping on the back of his bike before Lucas even had a chance to insist he put on a helmet. But as Henrik wrapped his arms around Lucas’s waist, the butterflies in his stomach turned to cockroaches. 
He couldn’t do this.
Not again. 
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Lucas sat across the table from Henrik, watching as he flirted with the elderly Austrian waitress in broken German. Lucas couldn’t help but chuckle at the effort they went to understand each other. He brought up an app on his phone, switching it to German, and typed in what he assumed Henrik was trying to say. 
“I would like to order some breakfast”
The waitress looked amused, but Henrik looked somewhat disappointed, as he reluctantly told Lucas what to type in. Lucas raised an eyebrow, but typed it in with his own order, the waitress laughing heartily and patting Henrik on the head. She muttered something mildly affectionate, and shuffled off toward the kitchen. 
“Do you really think they’ll know how to make Scotch eggs in Austria?”
Henrik grinned. “You’re kidding, right? They’re famous for sausage, here. All it is is an egg and some breadcrumbs.”
Lucas smiled at him. “You haven’t changed a bit, you know.”
“Lukey, it’s been like, two months.”
“Has it really?” Lucas frowned. “Gosh, it feels longer.”
Henrik’s face curled into a smile, and Lucas laughed, knowing precisely what we was about to say. 
“Awww, did you miss me? ” Henrik grinned, his adorably boyish smile making his eyes crinkle at the sides. 
Lucas couldn’t help but match his smile, chuckling to himself. 
He had. 
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Their breakfast arrived, and Lucas’s stomach almost rumbled at the sight of it, Lucas’s smoked salmon and poached eggs looking far more sensible than the crumbed monstrosity that appeared in front of Henrik. It was twice the size of a regular Scotch egg, and Henrik immediately tucked into it, barely swallowing the first bite before complimenting the waitress and shooting her a big thumbs up.
She chuckled to herself, turning back to the kitchen, and Lucas couldn’t help but smile, too.
Henrik was shovelling sausage and egg and breadcrumbs into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. Despite it being a maximum of eight degrees, he was in his favourite greyed singlet, a light jacket tied loosely around his waist, and Lucas had to admit, he looked great. Fitter. Healthier, even. Being outdoors seemed to agree with him.
Henrik had always been a good-looking guy, though. Lucas couldn’t pretend he’d never noticed. But he shook it from his mind. 
“So, are you going to tell me what you’re really doing up here?” Henrik asked, shooting him a knowing glance over his scotch eggs. 
Lucas frowned to himself. “Oh, you know. Just… getting away.”
“From?”
“Everything, I suppose.”
“What’s everything?”
Lucas shot him a look. There was no way that he didn’t know exactly what he was getting away from. 
Henrik shook his head, tutting gently. “If you’re going to come hiking with me, you have to tell me.”
“If I’m what?” Lucas’s mouth almost fell open.
Henrik nodded. “We combine our trips - it makes sense! You can take us on your bike, and then we can cover it up and hike for a few days, before moving on to the next mountain. It will save us so much time!”
Lucas’s stomach flipped at the thought of honest to god hiking in the Austrian alps in Autumn, when he had absolutely none of the equipment he’d need. He opened his mouth to decline, but something stopped him. And that something was a pair of wide, honest green eyes, sparkling in his direction as if he held the key to all the world’s happiness. 
As if they were begging him to say yes.
Every bone in Lucas’s body was telling him it was a mistake. He’d be an idiot. He was opening himself up to look like even more of a fool. Every muscle, every reaction, every instinct was telling him no.
“Alright, fine ,” his mouth said, completely against his will. 
Henrik beamed impossibly wider, hissing a ‘ Yes!’ . “But now, you have to tell me what you’re running away from.”
Lucas frowned to himself, not understanding why Henrik was pushing this so hard. He knew why. 
Surely, he knew?
“Just… needed to clear my head,” he grumbled, pursing his lips at the acceptable answer. “And try and pull myself out of it.”
Henrik nodded. “I think you just need to relax a little. Like before, when you used your phone to translate. That’s no fun. Me and Margheurite forming a common ground over trying to explain scotch eggs? That is fun.”
Lucas’s face fell a little. “Oh, sorry, I…”
Henrik waved him off. “Nothing to be sorry for! But you should try and let go a little. Be a bit less in control, and a little bit more present. Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it, I’ll show you.”
And show him he did. 
Stopping in the local town to pick up some warmer gear for Lucas, the two of them set off, Henrik pointing out some beautiful landmarks he’d already spotted on his travels. Henrik tested him, giving him a full-blown wilderness lesson.  Lucas was good at tracking animals, he found. The attention to detail coming in handy as he spotted snapped branches and partially-hidden prints. But he still had a lot to learn on everything else; how to find water, how to build a makeshift fishing net, and how to figure out if a cave will be safe to sleep in. Henrik was just like the chap on TV, but without the piss, having particular talent for filtering stream water for an almost constant supply.
He was, quite frankly, amazing. 
They hiked for days, Henrik showing Lucas how to forage, and smacked him lightly on the back of the head when he started stressing about not finding shelter or food.  
“Stop worrying , Lukey!” Henrik teased, his wide grin melting Lucas’s heart a little. “I know what I’m doing!”
Lucas supposed that was fair. This was Henrik’s job for God’s sake. But there was something about being shown two identical mushrooms, and being taught that one was delicious in a stew, and the other was a lethal fungus that would have you dead in forty minutes, that had him… somewhat anxious. 
The edible one was delicious , though, and Henrik was a bloody incredible cook, doing more with a bit of salt and soy sauce than most chefs had done in restaurants. And as they sat around the small fire, drinking delicious beers out of recyclable cans, Lucas couldn’t help but feel like things were maybe… starting to get back to the way they had been. 
Almost like Henrik was willing to just pretend it had never happened. 
And Lucas was grateful. 
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Lucas could barely remember how many days they’d been camped at this site, but there was so much to explore that they’d decided to stay a little longer. They’d been settled in this clearing for so long that it almost felt like home, now. 
He stretched his arms and legs out as he sat up, warmed by the gentle haze of the morning light. He unzipped the flap of the tent, and got to his knees to shuffle out, but the sight that greeted him from across the campsite made him freeze. 
Henrik had dragged a large branch to the far side of their campsite, and was quietly hacking it into smaller pieces with a compact axe he’d brought along. His long hair was tied back, exposing his clenched jaw, sharp as the blade he was cutting with. His skin was glistening with sweat, dripping down onto his exposed chest, the effort making his arms tremble as he swung the axe over and over. 
Lucas inhaled sharply, and Henrik turned, walking silently toward him. 
He didn’t hesitate for a moment, dropping to his knees, pushing Lucas onto his back as he crawled on top of him. 
Henrik lay his body along his, looking down at him, his body slick with sweat. 
“You never could keep your eyes off me, Lukey.”
Lucas nodded, and Henrik leaned down, his long hair tracing the side of Lucas’s cheek. He shuddered, his hands practically twitching to take handfuls of it. But Henrik read him perfectly, and pinned Lucas’s wrists above his head, smiling seductively. 
“Relax, Lukey.”
Henrik’s weight on his wrists was intoxicating, and his breath hitched as Henrik leaned in again. 
“Let go. Be present.”
Their lips were millimetres apart, and Lucas tilted his head back, relinquishing all control as he closed his eyes. 
And he woke up. 
The sun was well and truly warming the tent around him, and he sat up with a start. His cock was so hard it was aching, throbbing in his sweats as he took deep breath after deep breath. He cursed himself silently. He couldn’t allow himself to lose it like this. Not again. Not after last time, when everything had just…
He had to push it back down.
He hadn’t meant to kiss Henrik. It just… happened. Right after the finale, as they lay on their backs on the roof terrace. Henrik had pointed out Leo in the sky, and Lucas couldn’t see it. So Henrik had taken his hand, leaning his face in to Lucas’s, and pointed his fingers toward the stars from his point of view. Lucas had inhaled sharply as he saw it, and Henrik had broken into a soft, enthusiastic smile. Lucas turned his head to look at him, the moonlight illuminating his features, the shadows forming dimension after dimension and trapping Lucas’s gaze. 
And it just… happened.
Lucas had pulled him into it, pressing his lips to Henrik’s with an anxiety he’d never known before. It was fast. Probably far too hard. It wasn’t a good kiss. And before he realised what he’d done, he pulled back, practically shaking. 
What had he done? 
Henrik’s eyes had sat wide on his face, his lips parted in shock. “Lucas… I…”
Lucas hadn’t waited to hear the end of the sentence, he just got up and left. He knew he’d been feeling weird things for Henrik since the first day they’d met. But he’d pushed it down, and managed to ignore the weirdness up until that moment. Lucas hadn’t been sure why he’d picked that moment to react to the weird feelings. Heck, he still wasn’t sure. He’d just seen Henrik in that light, his soft features illuminated by the gentle moon, and he’d just… had to.
But now, they seemed to have gotten over it. They seemed to have silently agreed never to speak of it, a fact for which Lucas was extremely grateful. 
So these dreams absolutely had to stop.
He composed himself, pulling on a hoodie, grateful for the extra layer of clothing as he stepped out into the camp. But instead of the heavy thud of an axe, he heard… nothing. Henrik’s pack and belongings were all there, but his boots, jacket and the axe were gone. He must’ve gone to fetch some firewood, and so Lucas decided to wait. 
And wait. 
And wait. 
He checked his watch. It had been almost an hour. There was absolutely no way that Henrik was taking this long to get firewood. If he’d gone anywhere else, like into town, he would’ve woken Lucas up first. But as Lucas pulled his boots on, he heard a happy whistled tune.
Henrik trudged over the crest, his head tilted back to the sunlight. He must’ve chopped the wood elsewhere, because he had a huge bundle of it slung over his shoulder, his jacket tied into a makeshift bag. He was shirtless underneath it, and Lucas realised that the dream he’d woken up from hadn’t even scratched the surface of what Henrik really looked like these days.
His biceps were rigid under the strain of the heavy wood, a slick sheen of sweat over his brow. So content, so completely in his element, the smallest smile on his face as he basked in the early morning rays.The gentle smile into the sunlight became a dazzling grin, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he spotted Lucas, calling out a cheery ‘good morning’ as Lucas’s heart pounded in his chest. His jeans sat low on his hips, the deep v-shaped line like an arrow for Lucas’s gaze, his lean, muscular body completely flexed as he dropped the bag of wood in the middle of the campsite.
And as he did, he leaned back, his fists in his back, leaning over them and stretching out with a gentle groan. 
Lucas almost moaned, his cock twitching in his sweats, as he had to bite his lip. 
He wanted him. He still wanted Henrik. God, he might even want him more than he had in the villa. 
Henrik was always going to look more beautiful in the sunshine. 
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Lucas barely spoke a word all day, and Henrik left him to his thoughts. He was good like that, never pushing him to do anything he didn’t want to do. 
Well, mostly.
Night fell, and the two of them sat under the stars, wrapped in their coats, and silently gazing up at the sky. Lucas knew he’d have to say something eventually. But maybe, just maybe, that wouldn’t have to be tonight. 
“So,” Henrik spoke, his voice like a song through the silence. “Is it about time I asked you why you kissed me?”
Okay. Perhaps it would be tonight. 
“I… uh…,” Lucas started, the panic rising in his chest. “Sorry.”
“Why?” Henrik smiled
“Why did I do it, or why am I sorry?”
Henrik chuckled softly. “Both.”
Lucas sighed. “I just… I don’t know. I didn’t mean... I guess, I always… well… it just… happened. ”
“It did,” Henrik smiled. “But that doesn’t answer either of my questions.”
“Can we not do this?” Lucas frowned. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I feel weird about…”
Henrik got to his feet, and took a few steps toward him, his feet scuffling in the grass as he sat down at his side. 
And before Lucas could even react, Henrik tilted him back, and kissed him. 
Lucas inhaled sharply, completely frozen, as Henrik’s hand traced the back of his neck. The kiss was gentle. Intentional. Intimate. Henrik’s tongue teased at his lips, and he opened them, moaning softly as their tongues met. It was so much better than the first time, God , they were worlds apart. But as soon as it began, it was over. 
“There,” Henrik smiled. “You’ve kissed me, and I’ve kissed you. Now we can talk about it.”
Lucas sat, verging on breathless, and it had nothing to do with how high up in the mountains they were. He wondered whether the altitude had him lightheaded, or if he really was this badly affected by Henrik’s kiss. 
“Why did you do that?” Lucas whispered. 
Henrik laced his fingers into Lucas’s, and smiled. 
“Because I wanted to. Why did you kiss me?”
Lucas froze. 
It all seemed to surround him in a vortex. The rush of his blood when he saw Henrik for the first time. The way he felt when Henrik held his gaze as they shook hands. The first morning they’d entered the villa, nervous, but smiling at each other. Every single moment he’d shared with someone in the villa was a blur, except for the ones with Henrik. Those were clear as crystal. Clear as the water on these mountains. Clear as the crystalline green of Henrik’s eyes, as they’d gazed into his after he’d kissed him on the terrace that night. 
After Lucas had pulled away. 
Henrik didn’t pull away. 
Henrik didn’t pull away.
Lucas breathed deeply. “Because I wanted to.”
Henrik beamed at him, and Lucas’s eyes widened, as he tried to wrap his head around it all. 
“But I dont know what that means,” Lucas said. “Am I…?”
He couldn’t wrap his mouth around the word. 
Henrik lifted a hand to Lucas’s face, stroking his coarse fingers across the light stubble that flecked his cheek. 
“Lukey,” he whispered. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just words. You don’t have to pick one right now. Just let go . Be present.”
Lucas closed his eyes, and focussed his attention on the feeling of Henrik’s hand in his. It made his breath catch. His cheek tug into a smile. 
It made his heart race. 
Lucas opened his eyes, and released Henrik’s hand, lifting both of them instead to his face. Henrik smiled softly, and tilted his head back, his eyes narrowed and heavy as he waited to be kissed. 
He pressed his lips to Henriks’, his heart pounding so hard he was sure it would burst. But as their lips met, the vortex returned, swirling around him as he felt the urgency undeniable need rush from his body. Henrik’s lips were soft as silk, as was his skin. His hair. The pressure of his hands as they glided up Lucas’s arms, pulling him ever closer. Softer than anything he’d ever felt. More electric. More intoxicating. More him.
He hadn’t even realised, but Henrik was somehow on his back, Lucas on top of him, kissing him gently as Henrik’s hands gently traced along the back of his neck. Lucas relaxed, slowing his pace, his body melting under Henrik’s touch. It felt as if every muscle in his body was falling apart, every knot of tension crumbling, and all Henrik was doing was caressing a sliver of his exposed skin. 
He let one hand fall to Henrik’s chest, tracing lower until he found the hem of his hoodie. He slipped his hand underneath it, and sighed as skin met skin, his hand gliding over Henrik’s waist. He moved his surely icy hands higher, tracing his fingers over his ribs, and Henrik jolted, pulling away. 
“Ahhhh!”, he gasped. “ Sorry, ticklish.”
Lucas looked down at him, and couldn’t help the soft sigh of awe that escaped his lips. Henrik’s face was flushed pink, his lips red and swollen, his pupils wide as the night sky that surrounded them. 
He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything as beautiful as Henrik looked in that moment.
He leaned down to kiss him again, but there was an urgency in his gut that hadn’t been there before. He didn’t know how far to take it. He didn’t know how far Henrik wanted to take it. 
He hesitated. 
Henrik pulled back again, and tilted Lucas’s face toward his. 
“Just let go,” he whispered. 
Lucas nodded, bringing his lips to Henrik’s neck instead, trailing a small line of kisses down his collarbone as he tugged at the neckline of his jumper. Henrik sighed a breathy moaned, and Lucas’s cock twitched at the sound, groaning as he realised how bloody hard he was.
So he let his hand slip lower. 
Henrik’s loose sweatpants offered very little resistance, so Lucas swallowed hard, and lifted them gently, slipping his hand inside them. His fingers brushed against it, and he would’ve hesitated again, if it weren’t for Henrik’s reaction. He practically shuddered with need as Lucas traced his length, breathing every-so-slightly heavier as Lucas’s hesitation faded. He wrapped his hand around him, brushing his thumb gently over his tip, and Henrik’s head fell back. Lucas pressed his lips against the freckles on his exposed throat, as his grip tightened slightly, the slightest of teasing motions as he began moving his hand.
Lucas dropped his head to Henrik’s shoulder, practically leaning across him as he tried to kiss every inch of his exposed skin. There just wasn’t enough of it.
He withdrew his hand from Henrik’s sweats, instead getting to his feet. 
“Come with me,” he demanded, and Henrik smiled, following him into the tent. Lucas zipped it closed, and turned to Henrik, who was sitting on his knees, waiting to be told what to do. 
Lucas could’ve passed out from how much it turned him on. 
He shuffled toward Henrik, pulling his jumper over his head, and taking his shirt with it, throwing them onto Henrik’s pack as he lay him back down. Lucas took his time, running his lips and tongue over every tiny mark on Henrik’s body. Every freckle, every scar, kissing and nipping at every inch of the body he’d never been able to tear his eyes away from. 
But he still wanted more. He felt a tug at the back of his jumper, and he lowered his head, allowing Henrik to slip the garment over it. His jumper, his shirt, and the tank underneath it, the feeling of the fabric leaving his body driving him wild. Henrik’s hands traced his abs as he leaned back, gliding further down until he reached Lucas’s waistband. He hooked a finger into it, and pulled him back toward him, and Lucas smiled. He lay back down, the feel of Henrik’s bare chest underneath his even more exhilarating than riding with his eyes closed. It was warm in the tent, but it only heated further as he kissed him again. And again. And again. Until he slipped his hand back into Henrik’s sweats. 
Lucas moaned into Henrik’s exposed neck as he took him in hand again, gently stroking him as he pressed his lips over and over to Henrik’s skin, inhaling the scent of him as their breathing fell heavier once more. He listened to the movements of Henrik’s body, the twitches of his cock as he stroked his fingers over the underside. The subtle intake of breath as he ran his palm over the tip. The pressure he liked. The movement he liked. The speed. The roughness. Henrik’s breathing was starting to deepen, and Lucas groaned softly into his neck, silently screaming at how excited he was by the thought of Henrik’s cum pulsing over his hands.
But before he had a chance, he felt Henrik’s face turn toward him. He paused as he felt a hand press at his shoulder. Henrik rolled him onto his back, kissing his neck softly as he did. The kisses trailed across his jaw, down to his chin, and onto his throat. They trailed down his collarbone, over his chest, and onto his abs before he realised where Henrik was going.
He inhaled sharply, and glanced downward, finding Henrik’s green eyes sparkling with mischief as he flicked open the button on his jeans, and pulled the zipper downward. 
Lucas lay back as Henrik pulled him free, a soft curse in Swedish as he realised Lucas’s size.
“Shut up,” Lucas chuckled, but Henrik didn’t seem worried at all. Lucas closed his eyes as Henrik ran his hand up and down his cock, his lips parting in pleasure as Henrik’s parted to take him inside.
He could barely believe this was happening, and he wasn’t sure how to react. He felt like a teenager again, getting his first blowjob, nervous and excited and unsure of what to do with his hands. But as Henrik’s tongue gently caressed his tip, the anxiety rushed out of him like the wind through the trees. He pulled himself to his elbow, letting one hand caress Henrik’s hair, as he watched him gently work his way down Lucas’s length. 
How many times had he caught himself daydreaming about seeing Henrik like this? How many times had he found himself on the edge, trying to stop his mind from jumping to precisely this daydream? It was even better than he’d imagined, the unbelievable softness of Henrik’s mouth giving him exactly what he needed, reading him like he already knew exactly how Lucas would like it. Every stroke of his tongue, every press of his lips over the sensitive tip, every graze into the roof of Henrik’s mouth, every gentle hit to the back of his throat as he tried to take more of him, it was ecstasy. He could never have imagined how incredible it would feel, how incredible it would really look, to have Henrik sucking his cock as if he’d been dreaming of this moment, too. 
Henrik gently sucked in his cheeks, and Lucas jolted, realising for the first time how bloody close he was.
“Henrik, I’m… I’m getting…” he whispered, and Henrik pulled away. He gazed up at Lucas, his hand still gently wrapped around Lucas’s cock, the visual almost enough to have him on the edge. 
“Do you want to fuck me?” Henrik whispered. “I’ve got lube.”
Lucas furrowed his brow. “Why on earth do you have lube?”
Henrik grinned. “It’s good for chafing!”
Lucas couldn’t help but laugh, especially once he realised he actually had condoms in his wallet. The universe had aligned, once again. 
It took them only a moment, and Lucas was practically shaking he was so nervous. But as Henrik lay on his back, and Lucas pressed his tip to him, the nerves dissipated again. It was as if a part of him knew he had nothing to worry about, that he was safe with Henrik. 
Because he was.
It took a moment for Henrik to adjust to his size, his lithe body was practically shuddering beneath Lucas’s hands as he entered him. But as Lucas felt Henrik relax, he withdrew, rolling his hips gently back in. Henrik’s head fell back with a gasp, his back arching deliciously in Lucas’s hands. His hair was splayed out, his cheeks already flushed, his lips parted and wet. His breathing was heavy as the mountains that surrounded them, solid and firm, each thrust drawing a deeper moan from those beautiful, plush lips. 
Even in his wildest dreams, Lucas hadn’t expected Henrik to look so God damn perfect underneath him, his legs over Lucas’s arms, as he tried to hold himself back from fucking him as hard as he wanted to. But it wasn’t long until Henrik demanded it, his gentle curses in Swedish making him sound possessed as his eyes began to roll back.
Lucas was close. God, he was close. He could feel the knot twisting in his gut. A bead of sweat trailed from his brow as he held off, forbidding it from himself until he had Henrik exactly where he wanted him. 
Henrik’s eyes widened slightly, and Lucas took it as a sign, bringing his hand to Henrik’s cock again, and stroking it in time with his thrusts. 
Henrik’s hands fell to the sleeping bags below them, scrunching the fabric in his fists, as his eyes fluttered once more. 
“Lukey,” Henrik gasped. “ Like that.”
Lucas moaned softly, and held his exact pace, his own cock throbbing with need as more and more sweat gathered at his brow. He curled his toes into his feet, desperately trying to distract himself, to hold off, to wait, praying to whatever God was this high up that he could hold on long enough. 
“Yes,” he gasped, “ Lukey, I’m c…”
Henrik’s eyes rolled back, and Lucas breathed a deep groan, as he felt it. Henrik tightened around him, the thick, white ropes coating his hands the way he’d pictured, and he was done for. 
Lucas let himself go with a cry, his thighs contracting him into a final deep thrust, his entire body collapsing as he followed him over the edge. His vision went completely white, and every muscle in his body convulsed, pulling Henrik’s body closer to his as he emptied inside him. Throbbing. Pulsing. Shuddering as his body took control, his mind overwhelmed by the incoherence of pleasure. 
He was still in a haze of ecstasy as they came down, almost drooling onto Henrik as he tried to find something to hold on to. But his instincts took over, and he reached for his tank, cleaning both him and Henrik off with it, and reaching for Henrik’s water bottle to make sure he had something to drink. 
If Henrik was surprised by the acts of care, he didn’t show it, laying contentedly back on his sleeping bag, and smiling subtly. 
Lucas lay down next to him closing his eyes, and Henrik rolled over closer to him. Lucas felt a soft tickle on his arm, and smiled, as Henrik traced his finger over his motorbike tattoo. 
Finally feeling like he could let go. 
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“I’d decided to go biking in the Alps after the show. To clear my head and get away for a while. One day, I’m riding down this beautiful big mountain road, when all of a sudden this guy walks out of a bush in front of me.”
“It was me!” Henrik laughed. 
Lucas smiled. “Babe, dramatic tension! I was getting to that. But yeah, it was Henrik.”
Josie and Bobby smiled knowingly at each other, as Henrik continued the story. 
“I’d decided to go climbing in the Alps. After bumping into each other, we decided to do a roadtrip.”
“That’s so sweet!” Josie smiled.
Lucas grinned at her. “It was pretty great, yeah. We… we had an amazing time.”
He reached over, and took Henrik’s hand, prompting a blush from him, and an excited smile from almost everyone else in the room.
Josie beamed at both of them. “You guys have been head over heels for each other since the minute you met. I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
Henrik smiled back at her, before turning his eyes to Lucas. He lifted his free hand, stroking his fingers through the shorter hair on the side of Lucas’s head. 
“I knew he would, too.”
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Chapter 27
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Glass Shards
Warnings: None
Previous | Masterlist | Next
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Over the next few weeks, they slowly prepared for the journey ahead. For nights on end, they sat together, heads bowed over maps they had borrowed from the innkeeper. They had considered taking a ship, but had both decided against it. The danger posed by pirates, sea monsters and storms was too great. The land route would take longer, but it wasn’t like they were in a hurry. As much as Damien wanted to fix this, he knew a few weeks more or less wouldn’t matter.
Merridy had recovered quickly and was soon as nimble as before. Only sometimes Damien could see her pause in mid-motion, her face contorted as if in pain, and breathing very carefully. When he asked her about it, however, she waved it off every time; telling him something about stitches in the side or that she had probably pulled a muscle. He didn’t believe her, but couldn’t get anything else out of her, and to his relief these incidents became less frequent. Those bruises had been worse than any he’d ever had, so it was understandable that it took a while for them to fade.
Damien was more than grateful that she had offered — insisted, really — to come with him. As much as it pained him to uproot her again, he didn’t think he would have been able to bear it to leave her behind.
As the weather grew steadily warmer, they finally dared to set a date for their departure. Merridy copied the map with the biggest roads and most important landmarks and sketched the planned route. She also got Damien a bag that he would be able to carry across his back with just one strap instead of a backpack, and they tried out how many clothes and other things would fit inside.
The contents of her chests and boxes, which had been steadily shrinking over the past few months, were subjected to close scrutiny. Merridy rummaged through her belongings, placing them in various piles, the meaning of which only she knew, and shoving them into a corner one day, only to bring them out again the next. Damien watched this for quite a while, until at some point he worked up the nerve to ask.
“What are you going to do with all this stuff when we leave?” His gaze wandered over the mountain of painted dishes and cloths in front of which she was squatting at that moment.
“Sell,” was her curt reply.
“But they’re your things,” Damien worriedly pointed out. 
Merridy raised her eyes and grinned faintly. “Actually…” she began, presumably referring to her unconventional way of sourcing them, then shook her head. “They’re just things, Damien. The few I care about I’ll take with me, even though my back probably won’t thank me for it. But most of it,” she said, making an all-encompassing hand gesture, “is just stuff. I’m not going to read any of those books a second time. I don’t need a plate of” — she glanced at the object in her hands — ”painted daffodils or seventeen colorful silk scarves.”
The argument made sense to him. Strictly speaking, he himself owned nothing at all and hardly missed it. Nevertheless, he felt a little uncomfortable when he looked at the amount of things Merridy wanted to part with. 
She stuck to her words. In the last days before the beginning of spring, the piles in the room became smaller and smaller, until one day even Damien could imagine that the rest would fit in their bags. They had each picked out the best-preserved, sturdiest clothes, and a pair of shoes, for spare. In addition to two newly purchased sleeping bags, they would keep the blankets, as well as some of the rags. When Damien’s bag was finally filled, they packed up the rest of the clothes and set them aside to sell them later.
In her own backpack, Merridy stuffed the rest of the things; flints, soap, mirror and razor, sewing needles and thread, wooden bowls, cutlery, two waterskins, and much more. As Damien watched all that she was putting into the bag, he had to admit that he himself would have thought of maybe half of it, if that. With the important items finally stowed away, Merridy went back to her stacks and fished out a few things. An obviously well-read book found its way into her bundle, as did the playing cards, cloth balls, a small painted wooden box, and an ornate dagger. When the backpack was already pretty well filled, she took a rag doll in her hand and stroked its brown wool hair and beady eyes. Damien saw her look, sadly assessing the space in the backpack, and wordlessly took the waterskins.
“If we roll up one of the blankets and tie it on the outside, these will still fit in my bag,” he said in response to her questioning look. Her happy expression as she fit the doll in the backpack made him shake his head. “Please Merry, I don’t want you to leave something you care about behind because of me. You’ve already given up so much for me. Take everything you want to keep, we will find a solution.”
He wasn’t sure if she would follow this request, but after a while she went back to the book box and took out two more. After some repacking, everything finally fit inside and she stretched with relief. “Done— ah.” She winced in mid-motion and leaned forward with a soft gasp.
“Merry!”
Damien had just placed the packed bags against the wall furthest from the door. He turned around to rush to her, but she stopped him with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“I’m all right. Been sitting still too long.” She smiled at him, but he still watched anxiously as she carefully got up and then settled on the bed with a sigh. “Tomorrow I’ll sell the rest and in three days we’ll be on the road. I can hardly wait. What about you?”
Damien couldn’t quite shake off his worry, but he nodded in agreement. “Why don’t we get something to eat and sit at the beach while we still can? Perhaps one of those pastries?”
He grinned at her visible excitement, extending his hand in her direction to help her up. Side by side, they left the inn, strolling through the streets, sparsely populated on a rather cold and overcast day such as this. Still, when they arrived at the baker, there were two people before them, so they got in line. Damien turned towards Merridy.
“So what’s it gonna be? Sheep cheese or sheep cheese?” he asked.
Whatever reply he had expected, it wasn’t for her face to fall like this, for her to look away from him. Squinting at the blackboards above the stall, listing the regular as well as today’s special offers, she ignored him as he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
When it was her time to order, she picked something else, for the first time in months. It didn’t make sense.
“I’ll wait at the beach,” she said once she had gotten her pastry, still not looking at him. Damien stared after her as she hurried off.
When the merchant cleared his throat, repeating his question about Damien’s order, he didn’t have to think twice.
“Are you all right?”
Damien arrived at the beach a few minutes after Merridy. She was already sitting at their usual spot, one arm wrapped around her legs, holding her pastry in the other hand.
“Of course.” She looked up with a smile, but something still seemed off. “I’m a bit nervous, that’s all.”
With a sigh, Damien settled down next to her. The wind was chilly, but the sight was as beautiful as ever. Perhaps a bit more, even, with the water and sky as dark and gray as her eyes. He’d miss the ocean, the calming sound of the waves and the salty air.
A few minutes later, he found that he had barely taken three bites. He didn’t mind sheep cheese, but this one had little else in it. Glancing at Merridy, her progress seemed to be even slower. She took a tiny bite, grimacing as she chewed it. Damien was sure she wouldn’t if she had noticed him watching.
“Wanna swap?” he asked, deliberately looking at the waves in front of them. “Mine’s a bit bland.”
“Bland? Yours?” Her tone was incredulous, and he could feel her eyes on him. “That’s a first.”
Damien held out his hand, offering her the pastry. “Slight misjudgement,” he said.
There was a long pause. “Damien…”
When she didn’t say anything else, he finally looked at her, finding her staring at him. “Why?” she asked. He couldn’t interpret the look on her face.
“That one has dried tomatoes,” he said, gesturing in the direction of her pastry with his head. “You don’t like dried tomatoes.”
This time the silence stretched on for even longer. He didn’t dare to move, holding out his hand until she — finally — reached for his pastry. As soon as she had taken it, he bent to the side, to grab the other from her right hand before she could decide otherwise.
“That’s more like it,” he said, taking a bite. Dried tomatoes weren’t his favorite, but they were all right, and the garlic heavy bits of sausage in it were excellent. In fact, they were even spicier today than usual. “No won— hey, what’s wrong?”
Tears were not the reaction he had expected. Merridy was staring at her pastry, turning her head away as he addressed her. He regretted that he had sat down on her left side. There was no way for him to put his arm around her, even if he wanted to risk staining his clothes by putting the pastry down. All he could do was lean closer to her, his shoulder brushing against hers.
“Merry, please. If I ever do or say something wrong, tell me.” He didn’t know what was wrong, and he probably wouldn’t get an answer if he asked again. But something he had said or done must have caused this, making her tremble even as she leaned against him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in a whisper. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
Merridy said nothing, her head resting on his shoulder. After a while she started to eat, and Damien followed her example. He hurried to finish his pastry, so he had his hand free to at least reach for hers. With the fingers of her right hand interlaced with his, and her left arm around his back, it didn’t feel quite as cold anymore. There was no beautiful sunset to watch on a day like this, just the light of the day slowly fading. They stayed until the wind picked up, blowing sea spray into their faces as they got up, stretching stiff limbs.
Halfway to the city gate Damien turned his head, looking back at the beach. In the dim evening light he could barely make out the shapes of the cliffs towering over it, or the little hill where they had sat. How quickly the months had passed. How much his life had changed. Tomorrow, it would change again, and for the first time he found himself looking forward to it.
* * *
When the moment of departure came, Merridy found it harder to say goodbye than she had thought possible. The cook packed them two fruit cakes in addition to the provisions they had asked for, and Merridy thought she saw a little tear in the corner of her eye. Even the innkeeper bid them a fond farewell and gave them some well-intentioned advice along the way. Perhaps no wonder, since they had left a small fortune in his inn over the past months.
With each step they took toward the gates of Dragon's Reach, Merridy’s excitement grew. White rocks towered up, forming a gigantic portal that made the travelers before them seem tiny. The wings of the wooden gate were over ten meters high, wide open and firmly anchored in the ground. Next to the cliffs they nevertheless looked inconspicuous. Merridy wondered if they were ever closed at all. Two city guards stood on either side of the gate, boredly watching the sluggish flow of people arriving and departing.
Merridy had shouldered her backpack, and Damien carried the sack with her blankets and clothes. Both had opted for simple brown and beige pants and shirts, and while Merridy held a walking stick, Damien had strapped on a plain short sword. She had gotten it for him after selling the rest of her things, since he had insisted on carrying a weapon to protect her in case of emergency. 
Again and again, Merridy’s gaze flitted to Damien, to his shoulder and his right arm, which he let hang loosely at his side. She didn’t even remember which of them had come up with the idea of creating this illusion. They had both agreed that it could only be an advantage not to look like easy prey on the journey. Although the Dragon Road was reasonably safe, there was always the danger of running into bandits.
At the gates of the city, Merridy turned around once again and looked back. Like every time she turned her back on a place that had been her home for a long time, she felt quite wistful. This time, however, the sadness stayed away. She wasn’t alone and she had a destination, so it felt less like a goodbye and more like a new beginning. She turned away one last time and then only looked ahead, at the paved, dusty path that wound through the fields.
Merridy had studied the maps for a long time. For the first few hours, the path would follow the course of the coast. Once they left the headland, at the tip of which was Dragon's Reach, they would walk through the plains of Nór. The ground was still sandy, the wind carried the smell of the sea with it, and seagulls flew screeching above them. But as the sun rose above its highest point, Merridy felt with each step how they were leaving the sea behind, how the hint of salt in the air faded, to be replaced by the scent of the first spring flowers.
They didn’t talk much that day, neither of them accustomed to walking for such a long time. Shortly after sunset they went in search of a suitable resting place and found it in a small group of trees not far from a stream. Both were so exhausted from the exertion of the long hike that they only quickly lit a fire, ate some bread, and then crawled into their sleeping bags.
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[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]
Tagging: @dont-touch-my-soup​​​​ @kixngiggles​​​​ @starlit-hopes-and-dreams​​​​
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pentacles-n-ping · 1 year
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Confronting the Concept of Limitations
This is for all my fellow adult learners/students. Well, really for anybody at any age and any level who has struggled with perfectionism, procrastination, and/or difficulties in certain subjects.
My life is changing so much via my own choices and part of what comes along with that is dealing with barriers, limitations, and obstacles. I'm at a stage in my life now where I want to be in a position to go back to school should the opportunity arise. With that comes the reality that I need to master basic concepts in math, science, physics, and chemistry. In order to begin the journey of furthering my education, I must conquer these things. The truth is that the fear of finding out that I was truly unable to do this despite how determined I would be kept me in this loop of procrastination. Due to life circumstances, I no longer have the luxury of avoidance. I must push through, build study habits, and crafty a STYLE of studying the works how my brain works.
Growing up in a family dynamic that demanded academic (and personal) professionalism has haunted me into my adulthood. While I have spent most of my life battling math and trying to overcome difficulties I have in related subjects, I never truly confronted the inflexibility of my own assessment of myself. It's okay that I don't understand a concept or a formula when I first read it in a workbook or an pre-test evaluation. It's okay that I need to turn to several different sources including other textbooks and YouTube. It's okay that some concepts take me an hour to understand while others take a week.
To say that I am incapable of absorbing these areas of study and applying this knowledge is incorrect. I'm accomplishing both of those things because I eventually wind up at the end of a book. I'm getting fewer questions incorrect. I'm figuring things out and fitting the pieces together more quickly and accurately as I watch videos.
I've really had to come to grips with the idea that if I sit and read something and don't get it on the first go I will still sometimes have to stop for a break. There's never been a situation where I have so clearly hit a wall in studying than now. My brain just shuts down and I can't even hear/see what I'm studying. This would lead to frustration and anger at myself for not getting it on the first or second pass. There also was the issue of "quitting" to take a break or needing to "rest". It was brow-beaten into me that changing focus or stopping out of mental fatigue were forms of laziness and lack of commitment. I was refusing to push and "apply myself" fully to accomplishing something.
When I get frustrated, I play video games or bake or go for a drive. I close the books for the day if I feel my brain turning off. It's about listening to my brain as much as it is my body. Time to get up and stretch. Go do something physical. Rehydrate, grab a snack, stand outside under the sun. Sometimes, this is enough to recharge me. Sometimes, it's just the end of that particular day and I am learning to accept that.
My tips for others?
Don't buy just one book and make sure you buy from different publishers and authors. I have a master study book that encompasses every subject for the exam I need to take to start my degree program. I bought the coordinating workbooks for math and science. They're pretty solid. On a lark, I bought another set of workbooks for the same subjects by a different publisher (Kaplan vs McGraw-Hill) and they covered in much better detail a lot of the same material. However, about a third of the content in the different workbooks were on concepts I had never even seen before or were only mentioned in brief easy to recognize references. I'm more prepared by using a combo of books.
Don't sleep on YouTube. I have five to six channels I use for math, science, chemistry, and physics. They all cover mostly the same selection of topics, but again, like the different books mentioned above, they present the information differently. The repetition helps. They're clear, concise, interactive, and engaging channels. When I'm too tired to study physically with paper and pen, I will sometimes queue up a few videos to watch before bed, but I don't pressure myself to hardcore pay attention. I'm just watching to get a cursory idea of the major points or to keep things fresh. If I'm not too tired, I may watch a few videos about what I peeked at for the next day's studies just to get a little more comfortable.
Make a list. Whenever I come across a formula, phrase, or concept I don't recognize, but is either connected to what I'm actively studying or just interesting to me, I write it down on a master list. An example of this was that I had forgotten how math operations work with scientific notation and this is a big thing in chemistry and physics. So, I put it on the list and then made a short playlist covering scientific notation. Now, whenever I need a refresh or I'm having some down time, I might watch a few videos on the topics on my master list.
It does not matter how many times, how many approaches, or how many sources you have to use to "get it". Do what you gotta do to get it down.
Celebrate the wins. Whether it's remembering definitions, formulas, how to balance chemical equations, etc., take a moment and be proud of the fact you crossed something off your study list or that you guessed right about the answer reveal. Celebrate even if you only got two more answers right than last time. Progress is progress is progress is progress. If you've got nobody to tell, write it down in a journal or note to yourself. Every time you learn something, whether it's a skill or fact you will never use again in your life and you're only mastering it to pass an exam, you're growing. You are stretching and strengthening your intellectual and creative muscles.
I'm a witch who loves quantum physics. It's unlikely I ever would have learned about the photoelectric effect or the dual nature of light if I hadn't been put in a position requiring me to change my career and education path. As a Gemini (Gemini stellium and with Mercury also in Gemini), I love all forms of duality, perceived or actual. What I am learning about light, energy transformation, and other forces is actually impacting my practice.
Getting past that emotional block and reluctance might reveal parts of the world around you that you were writing off as unimportant or irrelevant. It's cheating yourself out of experiencing something challenging and potentially life-changing. Maybe you just find it fun and geek out a bit. Understanding elemental interaction better has improved my Genshin Impact team .(Cryo/Electro/Hydro, ftw. Beidou-main, here!)
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m34gs · 1 year
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Tell us your top five favourite horror movie tropes!
Oooh this is a fun ask! Thank you for sending this, friend! I'm excited to answer. (Horror, graphic descriptions of violence and gore, and potential spoilers ahead!) I've listed them from 5 to 1, leaving my Top Favourite for last. Some tropes can kind of overlap with others, and that's ok! I think that adds to the story telling too! (this is a subjective list, and it is based on my opinions and feelings only 🥰💜)
5. Ringing in at number 5, we have: The Reflection Isn't Actually a Reflection. All those scenes where we follow a character into the bathroom, they're washing their face or brushing their teeth or getting ready for the bath. We see them staring into the mirror, and then they turn away...but the reflection stays in the original position...or, just as scary, they look away briefly and our perspective follows theirs, so when they look back we are hit with a sudden demon face. There are lots of ways to do this trope. Probably one of my favourite ways this trope was executed was in Mirrors (2008).
The bathroom scene in Mirrors is one I will never forget. This was one of my very first horror movies, but I still remember this scene so vividly. When I watched it with my friends, we knew it was going to be a scare moment (why else would we see someone getting ready for a bath in a horror movie???) but we weren't prepared. When the woman is getting ready for the bath, there's a moment where she's no longer looking in the mirror, and the reflection remains staring at her. She doesn't realize anything is different, but we know. She goes and gets into the tub. The reflection remains, still looking like her. What happens next is something that did haunt my nightmares for a while. The terror is two-fold. On one hand, we have the audience knowing something is up, with a view of the mirror and seeing what's actually happening and being terrified because there's no way to stop it. On the other hand, this character in the tub had no idea of the danger she was in, suddenly can't seem to stop her jaws from being stretched open against her will....and it doesn't stop. It. Doesn't. Stop. You can see the confusion turn to fear and then desperation in her eyes and it haunts me. I think I was around 15 when I watched this movie. I had nightmares for weeks and none of my friends or I felt safe in a bathroom with the mirror uncovered for the next few days. The reason this isn't higher on the list is that I do feel the trope itself gets overused sometimes...a lot of demon movies have some sort of mirror scene...so while I like it, I think it should be used maybe a bit less; like only when it adds to the story and not for cheap scares.
4. Next up is: Jump Scares! Love me a good jump scare, and the best ones are the ones that get me no matter how many times I watch the movie. Sinister has that one scene in the attic where the spirits of the children are watching the tapes and the protagonist is so confused and drawn into the scene he doesn't even blink and then THE FACE IS RIGHT THERE. Gets me every time. A very fun trope, if used effectively. Some movies overdo it, or the jump scares don't actually scare me...but it can be such a fun thing to play with. Especially if the filmmakers decide to play around with it, drawing the scene out and making you think there's gonna be a scare...no wait we're fine...Oh there's gonna be a scare!....no wait...oh!...no...wait...oh, we're fine, it's all goo- BAM. The anticipation is a large part of the fun!
3. Number Three: Things That Are Not Supposed to Move That Move Anyway. This can refer to a lot of things, and you might wonder "why didn't she narrow it down", but the fact is that I find it is a very fun aspect of the story telling in horror movies. I was looking for a way to encompass that scene in Sinister where the man pauses the video, looks away from the screen, and the face in the PAUSED VIDEO turns toward him and stares at him as he's looking away...as well as the rocking chair in The Conjuring...The plates all being on the ceiling only to crash down to the floor in Paranormal Activity...Any and All possessed toys...doors that are supposed to be closed opening...doors that were open closing ominously behind the protagonists...I wanted to include all of it, and really, it all fits under that description. This is something that is bound to creep me out, and sometimes even downright terrify me (looking at you, Sinister). It's something that can add so much atmosphere and terror just because I look at it and go "That is Not Right. NOT RIGHT AT ALL." and immediately my hackles are raised. I love it. I hate it. It's fun. It's terrifying. Give me more. Yessssss.
2. Second place goes to: The Enemy Was Something Other Than What They Thought The Entire Time. Love this. I love the mystery. I love piecing together the clues. I love making guesses and seeing if I'm proven right or wrong. I love it so much. The Messengers. Haunting in Connecticut. Caveat. Devil. Psycho (yeah yeah, I know we all know the plot twist, but the characters don't, and that's what I mean). I love me a Red Herring, and I love rewatching the movie to see all the little clues I may have missed the first time. It's so much fun! Honestly, you could almost call 'guessing the plot-twist' a hobby of mine. LOL.
My top favourite horror movie trope: Final Girl! Typical of slasher movies, such as Scream or Halloween or Texas Chainsaw Massacre, there is usually a group of young adults/teens. One by one they are picked off until there's only one or two left. Final Girl refers to when the last one standing is a girl, and she takes on the villain in a last-stand...and wins. "Winning" can mean different things in different scenarios. In some, it's plunging a knife or shooting a bullet into the attacker and getting away. In others, it's running and jumping into the box of a driving truck and scream-laughing, covered in your own blood, as the man chasing you loses speed and ends up doing a creepy dance with his chainsaw in the middle of the road. The reason I enjoy Final Girls so much as a trope is because it really lets the girls go wild. They get to go absolutely feral and fight for their lives. It's really interesting to see a character pushed past their breaking point, and I find it almost therapeutic when it's a girl. Like, yes, please, let it all out. Let out the rage. Let out the fear. Let it all out the way you never can in polite society. Show them how strong you really are and that they aren't to fuck with you. That's what I really like about it. It's cathartic.
Thank you again for the ask, friend! I hope you enjoyed my answers!!
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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years
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Surprise (NSFW)
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Warnings: NSFW|MDNI. Pre-established relationship, consensual somnophilia, morning-sex, oral (M-Receiving), deep-throating, swallowing, overstimulation, multiple-orgasms, this was made entirely for the joke of Silco’s face captioned ‘when she keeps sucking:’ enjoy that I took that prompt semi-seriously
Silco isn't a man for surprises. That's something more suited for Jinx, though, you wonder sometimes, how much of the tendency to keep the world on its toes has rubbed off from her to him.
You seem to be the main victim of his rare surprises, though they are at the very least pleasurable, in a sense. Still, they are often surprises you can never hope of replicating; Promenade trips more expensive than some of Piltovers shops. Candlelight dinners overlooking some of the only non-smog covered parts of the harbors. Moments of peace, almost tender quiet, or raw, all-encompassing pleasure...
Silco gives it all to you, seemingly at a whim. He pulls no stops, puts in all efforts, and will do it all before you can even consider coming up with a way to pay him back for such delights... and by the time you do come up with something, the man has already pulled yet another surprise to sweep you off your feet, often leaving you breathless.
It's hardly fair. And so, finally, you decide that maybe your own little surprise shouldn't be too fair either.
You wait until you know he will be deep asleep. It's even rarer than his surprises - nights that he'll merely dump himself into bed, brush lips against your shoulder, before slumping into sleep far, far into the next day. You don't ask what puts him into these kinds of fits, where groggily shushes any attempt to awaken him before he's prepared to. It's far better, for both you and especially him, to enjoy these sleep-in's for as long as they last...
And with a glance at the clock in the corner of the room as you shimmy down out his arms, further down the bed, you know that not only is this going to last quite a while longer. But it's definitely going to be enjoyable.
From the clock, your eyes drift back up, catching the softened lines of Silco's face. And he... Silco isn't old.
He's aged, and gone through more than he'll ever tell another living soul in-full, but it's suddenly impossible to think of the man, laying on the mattress with tousled hair, parted-lips and a relaxed face, as the old-man you often joke him as being.
Silco is rarely carefree, but when he is, even with the hints of grey, he could almost look ageless.
You shake your head with a tiny sigh, the soft, affectionate smile remaining even as your once more shift your gaze. Albeit reluctantly from his form, but it becomes important to look to the side of his bed, and catch the sight of the tie rolled up on his bedside.
A mundane, innocent sight for any outside party. But the insiders know full-well, that Silco hasn't worn a tie in several years.
And this one is clearly used - undamaged but strained. Clean, but stretched from many, many usages - enough that just the sight of it makes your wrists twitch with the familiarity of them around your wrists, but that's not the only mechanism you and Silco have used it for.
Again, it's mundane enough to pass as something innocuous, meaningless even, to other parties. For the two of you however, it's not just permission, but a subtle invitation.
And normally you don't indulge. Normally, Silco wakes up prior to any expecting-surprises you could spring on him, and by the time you become aware to the world in full-again, he's already sprung his surprise on you.
But this time, you've woken up well before him. And Silco didn't so much as twitch when you wiggled free from his tight-arms to slip slowly down his body, freeing more skin with gentle tugs at blankets and covers. And eventually, freeing even more flesh with a curl of fingers at his boxers.
It's almost instinctive to lick your lips at the growing sight of bare-skin laying bare for you. Far, far from the first time, but there's still something special about the way that this is a sight solely made for your eyes only. That no other has the ability to watch as, inch by inch, pale skin is exposed for your hungry gaze before he lays bare beneath you. Fingers ghost over his hips once the remaining article of clothing is tossed aside, and with a quick glance upward to ensure he rests still, you gently maneuver yourself, and him into place.
Trailing down his body as you settle your body between his thighs, you can't resist ducking your head in order to graze your lips along the thin, pale pink line of a scar, stretched from hip to lower abdomen. Of course, all know of the most notable one, but you know them all. And it's tempting to go through with each one, pressing kisses along every mark, scratch or scar along every single one his body holds, but a glance downward has you smirking slightly.
Another time, then. For it seems the pressure on his hip has already risen his bodies attention, even if his consciousness is still in rest. You waste little time getting to the main-prize, wrapping your fingers loosely around the half-hardening cock to raise it fully, letting out a slow breath between your lips over his head while you glance up at Silco's face. There's a twitch, both in your palm and on his face and you decide to push it further by flicking your tongue out to trail over the head of his cock, humming faintly as the taste of him reaches your tongue under your slow ministrations.
There's a deeper, more alert inhale from above, and you decide to forego teasing. You loosen your hand enough to gather spit on your tongue before applying it to your palm, returning it to gently stroke at the stiffened length while you lean over to take his head between your lips. An open hum earns you the first small, almost-conscious moan from the slumbering man from above, causing your lips to curl at the corners before you guide him another inch further into your mouth, warm tongue swirling rhythmically around him.
There's a jerk of thighs beneath you, muscles jumping before they tense - thankfully not in completion, but in awareness, and a groggy string of syllables sounds, that vaguely resembles your name. You only hum in response, your free hand reaching down and further between his thighs, and you flick your gaze upward just as a long hissed-sigh sounds from him as you cup his sac in your palm.
A rare curse slips out as his eye, still heavy with sleep, manages to strain open as the image of you, shaft halfway into your mouth and fingers gently beginning to fondle at his balls, comes into clarity.
That doesn't mean Silco doesn't blink slowly at the sight, as if he's still dreaming. It's almost cute, the way your name breezes out of a slackened mouth as he gazes down at you in a mix of lust and affection.
"Well, good morning, darling. I think... this is my new favorite wake-up call."
You roll your eyes, and decide to cease playing around. Rubbing a thumb on the tender skin of his sac, you close your eyes and ease your throat as you take him in fully, earning a louder, now fully awake moan of your name as your nose brushes against his pelvis.
He's heavy and hot on your tongue as you hum appreciatively around him, and your actions quickly earn a palm cupping the back of your skull, long fingers slowly carting at your scalp as you hear a shaky intake of air.
Silco's breathing turns sharper when your tongue comes into action again, and even with a heavy-limbed hand at your skull, you ease your head smoothly from him until just the tip is being lavished by your tongue. Then, with a more prominent coupling of a massage at his balls, the act of lowering back down to take him fully into your throat and mouth, quickly makes the low tones of his sleep-roughened voice quickly raise in pitch, which sounds delightful when he can barely manage out your name.
Hands move from attending him below to slip around him before your arms tuck beneath his body. Not only to keep you comfortable as you evenly bobbed your head above his shaft, making sure to slow at the tip for your tongue to swirl against, but also to keep him in place. Thighs trembled beneath your touch with every movement, and the fingers that had been caressing through your hair were now digging deep into your scalp. Almost with enough strain to deliver pain with every sudden tug Silco subconsciously gave, but then he paired it with a particularly sweet whimper as you suckled harshly on his head.
With the amount of pre that was leaking from him, it mixed with your saliva as it slicked down his shaft. Although it was clear words were lost to him so early in the morning, the deep, primal groan of arousal that joined a sudden thrust into your mouth, told you that Silco had gotten a looked, and like what he saw.
The sound and his arching hips spurred you into action, your head bobbing lower and faster. His breathing doubled with the new speed, and despite your aching throat and jaw growing sore with it’s extended usage, you only felt your own untouched pleasure rising with the almost fragile way he was able to say your name as his body started arching to follow you with every rise of your head-
It was no surprise that he came so soon after that. Filling deep down into your throat, you so badly wanted to take your time to savor the familiar taste, but the angle bit it impossible, and you were forced to swallow every drop as the tugs on your head made your hair left in danger of being yanked out.
You didn’t mind though. The mantra of your name, nearly a shout and now a breathless, awed whimper, was more than enough to encourage you swallow around him to gather every drop like it was a delicacy... And then, with a tug beneath his hips to keep him situated still beneath him, the sounds Silco made encouraged your mouth to stay on him, and continue from where you left off the moment he grew still beneath you.
You never knew a human body could stiffen so like something akin to stone.
Silco certainly wasn’t animated, but the way he froze made you briefly concerned that drops of blood had just frozen solid in his very veins, as you pulled back just enough to lap your tongue around his cock. A glance upward, and you almost stilled your mouth entirely as you flicked the tip of your tongue just beneath his head. The action brought a bit of life back to the man, whose back had arched nearly off the bed, with eyes wide and staring straight. Silco’s mouth was parted, and after another swirl of your tongue around him, slow in it’s tracing of the veins on his pulsating length, the first croaked groan managed to slip out of his mouth.
It was all the encouragement you needed as Silco’s head lulled back almost loosely onto the pillows, and you closed your lips around the tip of his cock to suckle eagerly. His hips bucked and twisted weakly beneath you, and you shifted a hand up to stroke at the scar on his hip, petting almost in encouragement as you doubled your efforts. Breath soon as ragged as Silco’s, but not nearly half as broken under what you assumed was torturous, and glorious overstimulation of his nerves as your mouth sucked, teased and coaxed another telling jerk of his thighs beneath you.
Certainly, some strands of your hair had to have been yanked out as his other hand came flying to grip your locks for purchase - for sanity or for more physical-reasons, you were unsure. Silco did in fact climax with a force that had his body partially curl upwards, combined with a broken sound that sounded like the closest thing to a sob you imagined the Eye of Zaun was capable of making.
And he made it at your doing. 
It shouldn’t feel like an accomplishment, especially when considering the more smaller, weaker second-climax you were able to suckle out of him, but there was a surge of satisfaction in you nonetheless. You tried not to make it too obvious, when you popped your panting mouth off his length and wiped around your aching mouth with the back of your hand - but the sight of the infamous kingpin of Zaun, falling back boneless atop the bed, couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your reddened, abused lips.
Silco’s chest heaved with every breath, post-orgasm shudders racing through his body as you crawled up from between his legs and tucked away your smile. Though it was unnecessary - the glowing red eye flickered around it’s dilated pupil, while his mortal eye remained slip shut, even as you lifted a half-lifeless arm to wrap over your shoulders as you tucked your own body against his side.
“I'm assuming that that’s still your... what was it? ‘New favorite way to wake up’?”
There’s a deeper huff, potentially a chuckle rather than a shaky-inhale as Silco works to regain his bearings. Some strength returns back into him, starting at the arm you’ve coaxed around yourself with fingers curling slightly in a breathless, side embrace as you lean up, kissing his jawline while a hand comes up to wipe at sweaty locks resting errantly along his slick forehead.
“Well regardless,” You say offhandedly, but there’s a flutter of his remaining eyelid that makes it clear that he hears the smile in your even-tone. “I’m glad you seemed to enjoy it, sweetie.”
Silco takes another moment before his breathing becomes even, but still deep. A tongue flicks out so slip slowly over dried lips, before that arm squeezes a little tighter around your waist as he manages to croak, “It was... a very enjoyable morning-surprise.”
His eyes remain closed, but you are certain he could sense your wide grin regardless, as you tucked your face into his neck and continued to gently sooth his sweaty hair back into place as he allows a low-hum. Enjoyable, indeed.
-
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eldritch-spouse · 2 years
Note
*steeples fingers* bregg finds out the object of his affections has a size kink how does he proceed with this knowledge
(Ah yes, another size kink aficionado.)
(Minors dni) NSFW
Breg finds out you have a size kink
[Takes place in the earlier-ish part of your interactions with Breg.]
Breg never thought much about the way humans and even some other monsters would tense at the sight of him. He figures people just aren't used to the idea of spreaders, his kind is not exactly the most socially accepted for a couple of reasons… Which is why he also never thought twice about the way you'd shrink and get visibly uncomfortable around him at times. It's just the initial shock of meeting me, he thought innocently, they'll get over it eventually.
Imagine the growing distress when you don't.
It perplexes him. Is Breg really that horrifying to you? It's subtle, but he'll notice the way your eyes widen when he forgets to hunch around you or stretches absentmindedly, how you'll freeze when he gets a touch too close, or even the strange ponderous look you have when he struggles to fit through a door without having to duck and twist. Maybe it's repulsion, maybe you just fixate on his hands because you find them grotesque or expect him to swat at you.
It only clicked when he lifted you once.
Breg is well aware it's generally not a good idea to randomly pick humans up. In fact, that's one of the first things he learnt not to do, the hard way. However, that time, he had a reason to do so. You were strolling with Breg around the local park, utterly engrossed in your description of a movie he had never even heard of but was nonetheless listening intently to for the sake of admiring how adorably passionate you were about it. Naturally, you failed to spot the dangerous shards of broken glass on the ground in front of you. Breg didn't though, he noticed them just fast enough to avoid disaster. In a split second reflex, he coiled both hands over your waist, encompassing it, and lifted you out of the way onto his other side. It was innocuous and well-intentioned, but the way you gawked vacantly made Breg inwardly panic.
Great, he had fucked it up already. If you were already somewhat averse to his blatantly inhuman appearance, then that would certainly have been the nail in the coffin for his hopes of ever getting you to accept him… He was about to apologize when a strange smell hit him. Opening his mouth, Breg slipped the tip of his tongue out to taste what was hovering in the air, instantly picking up on something that nearly made him drool. Arousal- Your arousal. You liked that. Come to think of it, your face was kind of flushed too. Using a monumental amount of self-control, Breg held his breath and swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth, opting to not say a word.
After that little incident, he looked back on many curious situations differently and, with Fasma's help, finally understood what a size kink was. And how he could use it against you…
You can't even begin to grasp how elated he is to have learnt this. The next time you see him, Breg has this almost smarmy look on his face and it instantly puts you off. You don't get enough time to ponder on it before he stands up to his full height and leans over you wordlessly. The way his grin morphs into a flushed leer the longer you avoid looking at him tells you everything you need to know. He's onto you. Panic.
Be prepared to have Breg glued to you 24/7. He'll do anything just to show off to you shamelessly. Reaching for objects you can't grasp, bending over you to grab things when he could clearly just step aside, easily dragging you towards him- The works;
He's delighted to know he can make his little human half as flustered as you constantly make him. He already had a thing for playing with your hands before, now he does it just to scope the way you'll tentatively grab back at his much larger fingers. Comparing digits now, are we? Breg wonders if what's going through your mind is half as filthy as what's in his…
(More NSFW)
Oh boy. Now's his time to shine;
Spreaders have a bad rep in general since monsters see them as overly sexualized and indecent- But fact of the matter is that no one likes to admit they're the guilty pleasures of monster-kind. Males in particular are frequently sought after for being well-endowed and almost always featuring two members, amongst other peculiarities. Not to mention Breg is noticeably bigger than most of his kind, as a literal product of selective breeding;
Wherein once he took care not to get too sexual too quickly (even if his thirst is clearer than water) Breg now feels he has enough evidence of your attraction to not waste a second more waiting. He'll pull you close whenever you let him and drape his hands over your thighs. What are those wet hard things poking your back? Who knows :))... Just a little message, you know, to tell you he's bigger than you think in a lot of ways;
Breg spends a lot of his time daydreaming about the type of things he's going to do when you finally let him make a mate out of you. Just thinking about the way one or two of his fingers may fill you already gives him the vapors. He wants nothing more than to pick you up and use you like a living sleeve. Perhaps then, with your feet dangling uselessly, his tail wrapped around your pretty neck and your warm holes stuffed by the cocks that leave imprints on your abdomen- Perhaps then you'd understand how flattered he is that you enjoy his size. 
[I can go more in depth about this, but I would like anons in the future to maybe specify if they want me to go full NSFW or not. Don't want to make anyone uncomfy. 😅]
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radioactivepeasant · 3 years
Text
Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday
(This is an excerpt from my unfinished but fully outlined Reign of Vader fic, in which Darth Vader assassinates Palpatine and then finds out that unfortunately this means he actually has to rule. After Luke is captured by the Empire, Vader reveals both his heritage and a desire to fix things in the galaxy. Luke is wary, but it's not like he has anywhere to go)
Darth Vader was not a man of infinite patience, and the Ruling Council was growing ever nearer to discovering the limits of his tolerance. 
"Day-to-day procedures are a delicate matter, Majesty," Greejatus was saying, "It would be an unprecedented disaster to force change upon all offices all at once. May I recommend a gradual shift as your reign takes root?"
"Yes yes," Sate Pesage agreed. His eyes glittered out of his gaunt face with ambition. "This proposal to outlaw slavery, for instance-"
"-Is non-negotiable," Vader interrupted. "It was an idiot's decision to legalize it in the first place. My empire will have no need of slave labor."
"Of course!" Pesage bowed. He was beginning to sweat under that ridiculous hat of his. "We are eager to begin this journey into the future your reign promises, Majesty. But the galaxy is vast. Perhaps it is best to...phase the law in slowly? It takes time to bring new ordinances all the way to the Outer Rim."
Vader had heard quite enough for one day. 
"Enough. The decree goes into effect tonight." 
He stood, and all five members of the Council jumped a little. 
"You have until then to review the revised legal codes I have provided for you."
[[MORE]]
With a sardonic lilt to his voice, he added, "The rule of the Grand Vizier through the Moffs has ended, gentlemen. If you do not feel that you are adequately prepared for the task ahead, I will accept your resignation and begin the process of finding your successor."
He waved a hand. "In the next week, we begin hearings for the Alderaanian Massacre. You are dismissed."
There was a certain satisfaction in watching Palpatine's five advisers bowing and trembling on their way out. After decades of putting up with their snide comments and inane commands, it was nice to see the shoe on the other foot for a change.
Of course, they hadn't covered much. Just an overview of what the Imperial Ruling Council actually did. Once Vader mentioned that he intended to sell his secondary residence in the district and distribute the funds as reparations, the meeting had devolved into excuses and protests for the next two hours. Luckily, he was far too stubborn to pay any attention to their complaints.
While he had no strong feelings about most of his actions in the last nineteen years, neither hatred nor regret, he was willing to acknowledge that not all of his targets had been legitimate in a military sense. For Padme's sake, he would make amends if possible. 
Naturally, it was uncomfortable to try putting a price on life. But the sale of that ridiculous "castle" Palpatine insisted on him staying in would provide a good starting place.
It took about fifteen minutes of calculating, but ultimately Vader decided there was more than enough in Palpatine's personal accounts to cover about 17,000 wrongful death settlements, with additional funds in the cases of recurring medical bills. 
Arranging reparations for Alderaan would take more work. Vader quickly decided he was going to delegate that to the department of finances.
(They...did have a department of finances, didn't they? Surely Sidious hadn't done his own bookkeeping.)
With that settled, Vader's itinerary consisted primarily of a meeting with the Hands to make sure they knew their boundaries. After that, a remote consultation with a newly-renowned surgeon living in one of the lower districts. It would, unfortunately, take up the majority of the day. But for now, at least, he had two hours to himself.
The emperor closed his eyes and stretched out with his senses. It took several seconds before he was able to pinpoint his son's location. Luke's presence was dimmed, slightly. Muffled.
The reason for this became apparent the moment Vader found him.
Inside the library, on the lower level, Luke was sprawled across one of the ridiculous armchairs the nobles had favored. A book lay open on his chest, rising and falling gently. A small stack of texts encompassing everything from speeder repair to adventure novels sat on the floor, just next to where one of Luke's hands dangled off the edge of the arm rest. Clearly, he had been in the library for several hours before falling asleep. 
Sleep had softened the boy's features, painting him in a far more vulnerable light. The fear and caution of the previous night had been wiped away, leaving someone who seemed far too young, and far too small. How could he be twenty? How could Padme's baby already be twenty? 
It was tempting to leave him there. To let him sleep. But the chair was not the most supportive frame, nor was the library the most secure chamber of the palace. Reluctantly, Vader bent to touch Luke's cheek. 
"Luke," he said quietly, "This is hardly an appropriate place to sleep."
Luke's eyelids fluttered, but he did not fully awaken at once. Carefully, ever so carefully, Vader took hold of Luke's shoulders and guided him back into an upright position. 
"Your spine will thank me later," he said. 
Luke shifted, then opened his eyes with a groan. He didn’t seem to register Vader’s presence at first. One arm stretched up over his head, and the other came up to rub at his eyes.
“What time is it?” he yawned.
“Nearly noon,” answered Vader. The meeting with the Council had taken far longer than he would’ve liked. “Are you hungry?”
With a garbled sound, Luke waved a hand from side to side. “Don’t know yet?” he said in a still sleep-slurred voice.
After a few more seconds, he finally noticed just who had woken him. Instinctively, he straightened his spine, and looked a little bit nervous.
“Oh,” he said, very quietly. “H-hello, Father.”
“Hello, son.” Vader sounded amused. “Was your choice of reading that dull?”
After a moment, Luke nodded. He made a face. "I know there's supposed to be a famous musical made from this or something. But a whole chapter on how the sewer system of Ryloth's capital city works doesn't seem like good song material."
He jumped when Vader laughed. It was a warm, rich sound, utterly at odds with his austere appearance. 
"Poor boy!" He gently took the book from his son. "That was required reading for our literature studies when I was a boy. I loathed it. Very few of my peers sought it out voluntarily."
"I guess I can see why," Luke admitted. "But it seemed like it was going to be a good story."
"Then you are better served finding an abridged copy, I think," Vader chuckled. "Come. You should eat something."
Luke pushed himself up out of the chair. “Do I...need to put the books back?”
Vader leaned back on his heels. He looked at the books, then at the shelves. “I...will leave that to your best judgement. I do not know where you got them from.”
It was such a normal sounding conversation! Why?! 
Why did you have to be like...like this?! Luke fought a surprising burst of frustration. I have no idea how to talk to you! 
Serious and formal one moment, then laughing the next? Vader? Laughing?! It was as if the man he’d met on Cymoon and the man idly examining his stack of books were two completely different people.
Luke set the books on the console with the Holonet terminal eventually. Vader had suggested that he learn the cataloguing system of the room at a later time. At least that seemed to mean that he would be allowed to go back to the library again. Luke thought about his conversation with Artoo. Perhaps his father was trying to be kind to him. Whether that kindness would extend to anyone else was a different matter.
“I thought you were still meeting with dignitaries or something,” Luke said.
He trailed along behind Vader up an ornate staircase with his hands in his pockets. He was still uncomfortable walking too closely to the man. For all that he acknowledged that the new emperor was, indeed, his father, he was still a force to be reckoned with. 
Luke took a moment to internally groan at his unintended pun. Han would probably have elbowed him in the ribs for saying something like that. Chewie would think it was hilarious. 
Luke’s attempt to stay safely out of range failed quite suddenly. Vader deliberately slowed his steps so that Luke couldn’t hang back without being extremely obvious about it. He didn’t want to offend the emperor, so he tried to ignore his fight or flight instincts shaking his insides and kept pace with his father.
“I have several more meetings to endure today,” Vader said casually. “But the most onerous of those has been dealt with.”
This was not quite true. The Ruling Council was too full of Palpatine loyalists. Just intimidating them into compliance would only work for so long. They had connections, and they had money, and that could prove to be a headache if not dealt with sooner. Vader needed to replace at least three of them.
He had almost considered appointing Luke as Vizier in Amedda’s place, but had quickly thought better of it. Such a position would almost guarantee that Luke would never have time to fly again. Cutting a Skywalker off from the stars for good seemed too cruel. 
His son had not had the childhood he could have had if his mother had lived. If Palpatine had died much sooner. Let him enjoy his youth while he could.
But the problem of finding a Ruling Council that Vader could trust would still be waiting.
“The stupid hat club, right?” Luke asked.
He was unsettled by Vader’s proximity. Vader could sense that. He understood: the armor had been made to terrify. Perhaps one day he would have the option of seeing his son with his own eyes, but for now the boy would have to acclimate himself to the sight.
It was not often that Vader found himself cursing the cold, impersonal nature of his mask. He would have liked to smile at his son.
“Yes. The...stupid hat club.” He settled for letting his amusement be clearly heard in his voice. “That is not an inaccurate description. They run the day-to-day matters of ruling an Empire. But as they were all close to the former ruler, I find that I’d rather not trust them in matters of delegating governance.”
Luke grimaced. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” he agreed.
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searidings · 3 years
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....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !
hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:
1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril
2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3
-
The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.
The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.
If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.
It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.
What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.
Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.
Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.
Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.
“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.
“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.
Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.
Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.
-
For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.
Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.
For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.
Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.
“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”
The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.
“Her veins were green, Alex.”
An eternity passes.
She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.
Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.
“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”
Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.
A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.
But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.
-
Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.
She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.
“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”
Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.
And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.
-
When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.
When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.
When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.
But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”
Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.
When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”
The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.
Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.
Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.
The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.
It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.
Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”
A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”
But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.
But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.
Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.
The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.
When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.
“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”
Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.
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earthlyyan · 3 years
Text
Taming a Cicin (Platonic!Yan! Albedo x Cicin Mage!Reader)
Sorry if Albedo is OOC here, I haven’t written him before and he’s quite a challenge as I have come to realize. 
Warnings: Human Experimentation, taking advantage of amnesia? Drugging. Violence, Needles.
________________________________________________________________
Hot, searing, pain.
Arms outstretched and bound to the table, you waited for the man to return.
‘Patrol the Liyue-Dragonspine boarder’ they said, ‘it would be easy’ they said.  
You had finally grown powerful enough as a Cicin to be trusted with tasks outside of Snezhnaya, and of course you had to be compromised on your first mission outside of your home. You had finally grown useful enough to be placed elsewhere, and they were expecting results. Too bad you were too incompetent to actually complete the job.
Something in the bindings were preventing you from being able to use your abilities. Your delusion had been removed when you lost consciousness. And when you awoke, you were burning. Something foreign was pumping through your body, significantly weakening you. The side effect seemed to be intense pain. Or it could be the other way around, who knows what the man was up to.
You’d seen the man before you were knocked out. He humored you with a fight, but you were easily disarmed and defeated.
His clothing seemed to be that of Mondstadtian origin. Light and flowy, like the anemo god protecting their city. It’s safe to assume he is a knight of Favonius.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
His voice drew you from your contemplative stupor. It was smooth, and calm. During any other circumstance, a voice like his would be a blessing upon your ears.
“What’s going on here? What are you—”
“My name is Albedo.” He said. His footsteps were near silent as he walked towards the table. “I’d ask your name but,” he stood beside you, his face mere inches from your own. His hot breath fanned your face. “I don’t think you’ll be around much longer, so I don’t think bothering with the formalities past this point is important.” He’s going to kill you. Oh archons.
He pulled your delusion from his pocket and brought it up to the light. It didn’t shine in the way a vision would, it was matte, and muddy, like dirty frosted glass. He took it over to a table and scribbled down some notes.
“I already tested its reactions to you while you were unconscious. I wasn’t about to risk you getting the upper hand.” He said, making a show of placing it next to a crafting table.  “I had been trying to get my hands on a delusion for quite some time. But all the other fatui agents and mages had been smarter about spying around here.” He scoffed. “I suppose finding someone daft was key.”
You scowled and tried to defend your wounded ego, but the look he sent you silenced any protests you had the stones to make.
He turned back to the table and began shuffling through cabinets, grabbed a few brightly colored vials, and began working over a crafting table.
“You’re researching delusions?” You cleared your throat. You needed to play nice for now if you wanted to survive. “You could easily just ask me and I’d be happy to—”
“I’ve gotten what I need to know about how they react with the body.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What I’m researching is… well…” He hummed. “Well, how to figure out how they are assembled. And I highly doubt a lower level Cicin such as yourself would have that sort of information.”
He was right. But your face flushed at the notion.
“So you’re going to kill me?”
“No.” He gave you a quick glance. “Well, I suppose in a way I am. But you’ll still be very much alive.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“You will.” A small puff of smoke came from the table as he lifted a brightly colored liquid to his lantern. He hummed and squinted at it. “Or you won’t. That’s not my problem.”
You struggled lamely against the restraints. The burning ache in your veins made it harder to protest.
Albedo approached with the vial in his hand. He placed a cold hand to your forehead. It was a welcome relief to the scorching pain within.
“Alright, mage.” He swirled the concoction in his hand. “We can do this one of two ways. Either you open your mouth and drink this and behave yourself, or I hold you down and inject it directly into your blood stream. What will it be?” His indifference with the situation was chilling. Was he even human? Even Il Dottore had some sort of emotion when experimenting on his victims. Sadistic glee, yes. But it was better than cold and calculating. You felt like a butterfly pinned to corkboard.
You wanted to see him make a face. Some sort of small victory before you’re forced to partake in this bright green liquid.
So you spat on him.
The clear saliva slowly dripped down his cheek before he wiped it away with his hand. He gave a disappointed sigh. “Seems I was correct about dealing with a fool.”
His arm was on your bicep in seconds as he pulled a glass syringe out of his coat pocket. He sucked up the fluid from the glass and tapped it a few times before abruptly stabbing you with it.
It was a practiced precision, though somehow aggressive enough to draw blood, the sickly green vile was emptied into your arm.
The burning stopped.
Though something much worse filled its stead.
Your head felt like it was splitting apart, being torn at the seams. You swore your brain was leaking out, staining the table under you, but the dryness of your body proved otherwise.
Albedo pulled out a notepad and pen, he looked expectedly at you.
“How are you feeling?” His voice was impassive.
All you could do was scream. Albedo sighed and scribbled down something on his note pad.
“If you focus on nothing but the pain your suffering will only get worse.” Albedo pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Now, elaborate.”
You tried to conjure thoughts other than the extensive pain encompassing your body, anything at all. You grit your teeth and shut your eyes, concentrating. “Hurts—my head—splitting—”
“Yes?” He walked forward and placed a hand on your forehead. His cold skin against your burning flesh was a welcome distraction.
“Dizzy—Its hard—” “You’re doing much better than I had anticipated. I was under the assumption you wouldn’t be able to hold your mind together enough to speak.”
His hands covered your eyes, soothing more of the blazing pain temporarily. You could feel the edges of your vision darkening. You tried to reach out to the alchemist, but your restrained hand only tugged weakly at the binding, before flopping down unceremoniously.
You saw the man above you sigh as your body slowly began to loose feeling.
*
Bright. It was bright and cold.
There was a chill in the air, you reached to hug yourself for warmth. Coming to realize your body wasn’t sufficiently covered. Nothing but a thin white sheet covering you. Where were you? … Who were you?
You scramble to your knees, bringing them to your chest. You wrapped yourself in the sheet to help keep your warmth close.
“Ah, you’re awake.” A voice startled you, sending you scrambling to cover yourself further with the cloth. “No, no. You’re alright. I’m here to help you.”
“Who are you? Where am I?”
A man with sandy blonde hair entered your frame of vision. He held a bundle of clothes in his hands before placing it gently on the table. He took note of how you trembled more in his presence than had he not made himself known. He lifted his hands in an act of surrender, he wasn’t planning on hurting you.
“My name is Albedo. You are in Dragonspine, a mountain in the country of Mondstadt. I happened to find you in the cold. You were absolutely soaked. I feared you’d freeze to death.”
“Oh…” Your head swam. A thick fog wrapped around it, keeping wandering thoughts at bay. “I don’t—” “Remember much? Your head seemed to have taken significant damage when I had found you. I ran a few tests and it seems you’ve gotten yourself a case of amnesia.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to let you go until I know for a fact that you aren’t a danger to yourself.”
“I don’t know where I’d go.”
“That’s also a problem.”
Albedo smiled at you. Had you known any better you would’ve considered his smile a sinister one. But to the naïve, it was as right as rain.
You didn’t think anything of it when he offered to help you change, your body was still sluggish and you were dreadfully cold. You didn’t think anything of it when he offered you a room, seemingly prepared already, nor did you bat an eye when he would look at you and write things down on his notepad.
Your body would start to ache after a while, a headache creeping up your neck.
“Mister Albedo?” “Just Albedo is fine.” He said. His nose buried in his notes.
“My head is spinning.”
He looked up from his notes, meeting your gaze. “Ah, let’s get you to bed. I’ve got some medicine to take care of that.” He smiled, his hand resting against the small of your back as he led you to the room at the end of the hall.
He tucked you gently under the covers and placed a cold hand on your head. You sighed at the welcome touch. He sighed and walked out, only to return with a small vial of green liquid. He held it to your lips, which you dutifully swallowed. You were out in a matter of moments
He looked at you with a sense of swelling pride. He had done it.
He not only gotten his hand on a delusion, but he also got his hand on a body fit to wield it.
He had tamed a Cicin.
His hand went to caress your cheek, which your body eagerly responded. A smile crept up his face. You were his. His little mage. His little pet project.
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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years
Note
elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕
elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.
read on ao3
As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance. 
His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”
The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.
He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.
That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.
Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.
It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.
But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.
He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.
And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.
He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.
“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”
His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.
“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.
“Have you guys talked about getting married?”
It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.
“Sort of,” he settles on.
“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”
“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.
“So what’s the problem?”
He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”
Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”
“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”
“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”
He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.
Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”
Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand. 
“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”
Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.
“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”
~~~~~~~~~~
In the end, none of the lists really matter.
Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.
He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.
The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.
“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck. 
“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.
“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.
Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out. 
Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.
The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”
Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.
And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.
Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.
“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.
Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”
Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.
Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”
It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well. 
Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.
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